A/N: I once said I wouldn't come back to fanfiction and that I was completely done with it in favor of writing my own stories. I created a fictionpress account, then deleted it, then created it again and now I'm actually uploading things on it (if you want to check out my original stuff—and I beg that you do!—the link is in my profile). I remember mentioning a few years ago when I gave my farewell note that I might continue Excuse Me because I really liked the characters. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but recently I went back and reread and just like you guys, I hated the cliffhanger. Bella and Squid deserve a proper ending.

So here I am, almost 5 years after I last updated this, willing to give them that.

I was hesitant to write this because I can't promise you tons of updates. I think I may be doing this, honestly, just to avoid finishing my homework. Either that, or it's to exercise my ability to write fluff because my original story needs it, and needs it to be good. But I know back in the day a lot of people were committed to this fic and I should have been just as committed in return.

Granted, it's highly probable that the original people who loved this fic also outgrew fanfiction as well, so I bet this update will probably attract a new crowd of readers as others may not bother to come back. If so, hello new readers! And this chapter probably won't be that long; I'm mostly trying to gauge the amount of interest to see if I should definitely continue.

For the record, my writing style has grown a lot, but hopefully it won't be too much of an awkward transition.

Without further ado, here is the long awaited chapter 11.

11. Long Time No See

I kept thinking about what Squid said—or didn't say, actually—as I woke up the next day. I didn't feel like getting out of bed, mostly because I didn't want to leave the beautiful invention that was AC, but also because I figured maybe if I stared at the ceiling long enough I would forget all about stupid Fish Boy and his stupid need to defend me and his stupid habit of fighting people.

Stupid.

When I finally did get out of bed and get dressed, I meandered into the kitchen where Aunt Lou was sitting at the table flipping idly through a magazine.

"Hey Aunt Lou," I started. She 'hmm'd and I took a deep breath. "Can I switch from A-tent?"

Digging with A-tent was not only annoying, but also it made me despise digging even more than I already did. At least with D-tent, I had some kind of conversation to look forward to.

Oh God, she looked up. She looked up and now I hate myself for even asking the question. She's totally going to say no.

Wait, she hasn't said anything in a little bit. She just keeps looking at me. Why is she just looking at me? When someone just looks at a person, maybe it means they're thinking things through? Maybe she's considering my request! Maybe I'll get to dig with D-tent after all!

Huzzah for victory! I have half a mind to just do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight etc. Except not the last two because while that was a catchy song that was now (annoyingly enough) stuck in my head, I feel like if I actually sang it or suggested it to any of the boys, it'd lead to some consequences that would probably be unwelcome.

And if I sang it in front of Aunt Lou, she'd just assume I'd be talking about getting down with Squid and it'd be awkward for everyone involved.

But whatever, I win! I don't have to dig with A-tent anymore! Victory! Now all she needs to do is just stop looking at me and say the magic word—

"No."

Damn it.

"But Aunt Lou—"

"I told you, Bella, I don't like how friendly you're getting with D-tent boys," she said, moving away from the table and walking toward the fridge, looking for something to drink.

"Come on, it's not like I'm going to—"

"Excuse me?" Aunt Lou looked at me with that venomous eyebrow raise thing she does sometimes and I actually took a step back.

"I'm just saying—"

"I don't care what you're saying, to be honest." Jesus this woman can really intimidate when she wants to. "All I know is that before you started hanging out with those boys, you never questioned what I said."

"But Aunt Lou, A-tent is full of—"

"The same kind of boys D-tent is full of!" she snapped, closing the fridge forcefully. "I'm trying to teach you a lesson. There is no good boy at Camp Greenlake. I know you've dated people in the past, Bella. I know you know the difference between boys who are good for you and boys who aren't. What about that Tyler boy? You two used to be very close."

"Tyler was a jerk!" I raised my voice and she looked affronted but I didn't care because what the hell did she know about Tyler?! She and I haven't seen each other in 8 years.

God. Let me explain Tyler. You know those All-American blonde football players who everyone adores at school? That's Tyler. I was on the cheerleading squad back in the day and we dated because how stereotypical.

He's a dick. He cheated on me, we broke up, and that's who Aunt Lou considers to be a good guy? Barring the fact that she didn't even know Tyler—I don't even know why she knew he existed in the first place—I can already guarantee Squid is a much better person than Tyler ever could hope to be.

…Squid? Who said Squid? Not me. I'm just, y'know, using him as an example. Obviously. I mean, anyone could be better than Tyler.

Even his name sounds douchey. Like go away, Tyler, you don't need to set the bar.

"He came from a good family—"

"He was rich, you mean," I said, totally derisively and totally unapologetic for it. Another reason why Tyler thought he could get anyone and anything he ever wanted was because he always had. He was entitled, spoiled and could I make myself any clearer? Why was he still invading this conversation?

"I think you should give him a second chance," was all she said. I glared at her.

"Oh? Because you really believe in second chances apparently," I spat. She slammed her perfectly venomously manicured hand down on the table and I jumped. Shit. I was going to get it now.

"None of these boys deserve one," she hissed. "They aren't good enough. Am I making myself clear? I've seen the way they behave, I've punished most of them individually. They were sent here for a reason! This is a camp for the hopeless, don't you understand? Their character building is—" she stopped and I could tell that she was about to say something that she would regret.

"You don't want to dig with A-tent anymore? Fine." She suddenly became very, very sweet and I swear I'd never felt so unnerved in my whole life. Not even when Mr. Sir tried to shoot me before I keyed his car.

With Squid.

"Fine?" I repeated hesitantly.

"You can just dig by yourself. Twice a week. Starting now."

I knew better than to argue with her. I knew better than to tell her that it was the hottest part of the day and she had no idea if I'd die or if the lizards and vultures would come pick me off. She wouldn't go out searching and if Mr. Sir was the one who was sent, he'd probably just chuckle evilly and push me into my own hole. Listen, if I'm going to die, the last thing on the face of the earth that I want to see is Mr. Sir's stupid chuckling face.

Maybe I should paint my nails for good measure.

X-X-X

I've never hated a hole more in my entire life. The silence was maddening, and the heat was even worse. I could pass the time laughing when I was with D-tent, and I could even pass the time mentally reviewing all self-defense I had ever learned when I was with A-tent, but out here? I was alone with my thoughts.

This was never good. Because here I am, busy reviewing everything that has happened to me ever since I came to Greenlake. Was I turning into a different person? I mean, I was always sarcastic, and I never took any crap from anybody. But I never had a strong desire to hang out with juvenile delinquents, let alone have a preference for one group over the other. I wasn't even sure what they did to get here. Even Stanley, who would have totally won Most Huggable if there were some kind of weird CGL Yearbook with Digger Superlatives, must have done something to get here.

And Squid. What did Squid do to get here?

What would he have won? Superhero probably wouldn't be a superlative, but then again Most Huggable would have probably been the worst thing you could ever be known for in a juvenile delinquent camp. On second thought, he should be christened Toughest or Most Likely to Beat Someone Up. Except Squid was definitely in the running for the second one, so if Stanley got it, they'd probably say the election was fixed and—

Do you see where digging without company has led me to thinking about? Camp Greenlake's potential yearbook superlatives and how Stanley—definitely Most Huggable—should end up with Most Likely to Beat Someone Up just so that he could earn not-at-all-deserved street cred.

Right. X told me not to say street cred.

Whatever.

Five feet wide and five feet deep could not have happened fast enough. I didn't want to go back to the cabin when I finished because I didn't want to deal with Aunt Lou. She would definitely make me pay for giving her sass earlier—as if this wasn't punishment enough already. So I found myself heading to the wreck room, hoping that maybe I'd run into a familiar face.

At least, one I'd want to see.

"Hey beautiful," I heard as I entered. Dear Lord, do they ever stop? I turned and saw Lump from A-tent leering at me and wondered where I.V./Donkey/Rob/Asshole was. I scanned the room. If Lump was done digging, I knew I.V. wasn't far behind.

"Looking for someone?"

But instead, I saw him.

He was sitting on one of the completely destroyed lounge chairs and he tucked his toothpick behind his ear, giving me a smile that I felt myself returning. "Not you, actually."

"I'm hurt," he said, putting a dramatic hand to his chest as though wounded.

"I'll bet," I muttered.

"So who were you looking for?" he asked.

"Probably me."

No way. I knew that voice. I would know that voice anywhere. Squid, on the other hand, clearly did not know that voice. He was looking past my shoulder with a scowl on his face and I turned around, knowing that the owner of that stupid voice was right behind me.

"Who the hell are you?" Squid asked, not even bothering to keep up with your typical 'hello, allow me to introduce myself' greeting. Not that the boy behind me even deserved it.

I felt a hand place itself on my shoulder and Squid stood up quickly in response. I saw in his eye the glint he always got before he was looking for a fight and I shook my head at him. This was going to be painful enough without Squid having to defend my honor again. This was my own personal hell to deal with.

As I turned around, I saw him. He was wearing a polo shirt that looked as though it wasn't meant to get dirty, and had the hands of someone who didn't know what work was. He had the self-satisfied smile of someone who had never been told 'no', and above all else, the face of someone who wouldn't last a day in Camp Greenlake.

What the hell was he doing here?

"Hello, Tyler," I managed through gritted teeth. "Long time no see."