"Friday," I groan, dropping my head onto the table. "Oh god. Friday."
"The interviews," Braiden says.
"The Johnston," I mumble into the Formica. "Less than a week."
"So, how does that work?" Jionni asks. "You're mated now. You're bonded. Biology says you should be glued to each other 24/7. But that internship? It's one slot. One winner. What happens to you two when only one of you can have it?"
I lift my head. "We talked about it. He said we're a team. That we'll figure it out together. That the internship isn't as important as us."
"And you believe that?" Toby asks.
"I want to," I say. "I really want to."
Wes leans forward. "Listen, Sam. Bonds are strong. Stronger than people give them credit for." He points a finger at me. "If Devan is half the guy you say he is, he meant what he said. He wants you both to come out of this okay."
"But what if it doesn't work out like that?" Braiden asks. "What if the interview changes things? What if it pulls you apart?"
"It won't," I say. "We're stronger than that."
Jionni is quiet for a moment. Then he leans forward, elbows on the table.
"Here's the thing, Sam. I believe you about Morse. I do. But that interview room? The people running it? They don't give a shit about your bond."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean Sterling. The hedge fund guy. People like him, they don't see mates. They see competitors. They want gladiators, not partners." Jionni's grey eyes are sharp. "Biology says you're a team. But capitalism? That boardroom? They want to see a winner and a loser. And they'll do whatever it takes to make you fight each other. Not because they care who wins, but because that's how they test people. They want to see what you'll sacrifice."
"Jionni," Wes growls. "Ease up."
"No, he needs to hear this." Jionni doesn't look away from me. "Sam, look at me."
I look. He's not smirking anymore.
"You're Sam Sharma," Wes says, leaning in. "You're the smartest guy I know who doesn't make me feel stupid for asking questions. You deserve that internship just as much as Morse does."
I manage a smile. "Thanks, Wes."
Braiden chimes in. "Maybe you can go in there as a united front? Show them you're stronger together than apart?"
"The interview is about individual merit," I remind him. "Professor Foster was very clear. One slot. One winner."
"Screw Foster," Jionni mutters. "Guy looks like he sleeps in a coffin."
I check my phone.
"I have to go," I say, standing up and gathering my trash. "I have to prep. We're... not studying together tonight. We decided to take the nights off before the interview to get in the right headspace."
"Separation," Toby nods. "Healthy boundaries."
"Yeah," I say. "Healthy."
It feels awful. The idea of not sleeping next to him tonight makes my skin crawl.
I pull my hoodie back up, hiding the mark. "Thanks, guys. I... I needed to say it out loud."
"We got you, Sam," Wes says, saluting with his sandwich.
"Text me if you panic!" Braiden calls out. "I have breathing exercises!"
