I can see she’s typing, but a minute later, I’m still hanging, when suddenly my phone starts to ring.
“Well, this is a first. I was so shook I almost didn’t pick up.”
“It’s taking too long to write it all out.” She laughs.
I don’t tell her, but I’m so happy to hear her voice.
“How’d it go?”
She sighs. “So, obviously, they already knew.”
“They did? The whole story?”
“Kirk’s parents spilled. Guess that makes it easier for me, in a way. But something tells me their golden boy didn’t tell themeverything.”
“Why didn’t your parents ever ask about it? Weren’t they worried about where you were living?”
“I’m the eldest, Lane. They trust me to just figure my shit out. I gotta say, my dad did flinch a little when I told him about you, though.”
“That’s on you. You should never have told them I’m hot.”
She bursts out laughing, and I grin, pleased with myself. On the other end of the line, I hear a door creak open, and I picture her throwing herself down on the bed.
She yawns. “What are you doing?”
“I’m in bed.”
“Oh, really? I thought you’d be desperate to hit the couch.”
“That’s the plan for tomorrow.” I prop a pillow behind my head.
We spend a while chatting back and forth, until I hear soft snores over the line.
“You asleep?” I whisper.
Silence. I smile.
“Night,” I say to nobody in particular.
I shoot her a message to read tomorrow morning.
LANE: Just a heads-up: your snoring is worse than Lewis and Don combined!
The next night, we have another call. And the night after. And the evening after that. Every night, Lois falls asleep first, and I catchmyself hanging on the other end, listening to her breathing. Slowly but surely, our bedtime calls become the one part of the day I actually look forward to.
CARTER: Just passing through—figured I’d swing by!
I’m tempted to say no, but that’s all I’ve been doing this entire break. Days have drifted by, and I’ve stayed holed up at home, alone on my couch.
The buzzer goes off, and I drag myself across the room to fling open the door. Carter’s standing there staring at me like I’m some exotic animal. I run a hand over my beard. It’s been a while since I shaved.
“Sorry to bother you, sir. It’s just—I could’ve sworn my best friend used to live here.”
“You coming in, or what?” I turn back to the couch.
“Lane?” he yells as he follows, looking from left to right. “Lane? Where are you, buddy?”
“What iswrongwith you?” I collapse onto the cushions.
