“Wow.” She smiles widely. “So somewhere under that hard exterior, Lane O’Neill has a gooey marshmallow heart, after all. Or maybe it’s the Christmas spirit.”
“I’m obviously a saint,” I tease. “You should know that by now.”
“True. You’re so unhinged, I sometimes forget,” she says, letting out an exaggerated sigh.
“Need a ride to campus?”
“That’d be great. I’ll be a little early, but I can get one last study session in. I can’t wait until all this is done.”
On our way to our final exams, I’m feeling excited and uneasy, allat once. I can’t wait for winter break to finally start, but there’s something gnawing away at me, and I can’t figure out what.
“LOIS, IF YOU DON’T HURRYthe hell up, you’re going to miss your flight.”
“I’m coming!” she calls out from the bathroom.
I’m pacing the living room, raking a hand through my hair. I’m stressed and I have no idea why. There’s no traffic at this time of day: If we leave now, Lois will make her flight, no problem.
“You’re finally getting your peace and quiet back,” she says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“It’s a Christmas miracle!” I tug on her bag strap, relieving her of the weight. “That all you’re taking?”
“My room back home is full of clothes. At the start of the school year, I was planning on taking them to Kirk’s over Thanksgiving break, but…” She shrugs and takes one last look around her, pulling on her coat, fumbling with the zip. “I can’t wait to get to Fort Myers and lose this thing.”
“You can lose the hat, too.” I yank it down over her nose, so all I can see are her lips pulling back into a smile, the tip of her tongue sticking out.
“Yeah, I won’t be missing that, either.”
“How about me?” I hear myself ask, barely a whisper.
What the hell?Why did I say that? I drop my hand and step back, suddenly tense. She peels the hat off her face.
“Someone’s getting soft.” She arches an eyebrow and puts on a sickly-sweet voice. “But don’t worry: Yes, I’ll miss you, Laney.” She pinches my cheeks. “You’re such a joy to live with—these ten days without you will be pure hell.”
I slap her hands away. “I won’t miss you one bit.”
“Liar! Your life is going to be one big empty black hole without my positive vibes.”
“Oh, really? So all those times you cried—those were tears of joy?”
“Bitch, please!” She glances around the room. “We good to go?”
“I thought you’d never ask!”
“May your Christmas tree be bare.”
“No tree—remember?”
She rolls her eyes, swipes up my car keys, and stalks out the apartment, while I hang back, slinging her bag over my shoulder. Now’s my chance: the perfect opportunity to tuck a gift into one of the pockets, just a little something for her to find once she gets home.
It takes us thirty minutes to get to the airport. Once I’ve parked, I shepherd her through the check-in hall toward the departure gates, until I can’t go any farther.
“Thanks for driving me,” she says, staring at her toes.
“No problem. Message me once you get home, okay?”
“I will. The flight’s around four hours. My dad is picking me up, then it’ll take another hour or so to get to the house.”
I nod, scuffing my feet. I’m not great at goodbyes. I normally just leave people at the drop-off bay, so now I feel stupid as hell, with no idea what to do next.
