I thought making her come would break the spell, but now all I want is a repeat session. I want to do much more than that, to be honest. I’ve had to take care of myself more times than I’d care to count, and it’s… difficult. Luckily for me, I’m pretty good at pretending I’m okay and suppressing that kind of shit.
We get out of the car, the way we’ve done for weeks now, and make our way up the stairs to the main building.
“I’m gonna grab lunch with the others later. Want to come?”
She stiffens, searching the ground for answers. Since I crossed the line, she’s been shakier, somehow, the light in her eyes dimmed,and I can’t help but feel a little sad. She’s quieter than usual—a shadow of the superconfident Lois I met way back when. Everything I was scared would happen,hashappened, and despite it all, I still can’t bring myself to try and clear the air.
“Yeah,” she says after a while. “Sure.”
I’m weirdly relieved. She smiles at me and disappears down the left wing without glancing back. I head to my workshop, and three hours later, I’m back in that same spot waiting for her.
I see Kirk bobbing along, but as soon as he notices me, he turns on his heel and vanishes.Damn, I hate that guy.Every time I see him, my fists automatically clench. I want him to pay for being such a dick. He’s the reason I did what I did, and that only makes me hate him harder: My life was so chill before he came along. I force myself to breathe out, and as I spy Lois coming toward me, my face breaks into a smile.
“I feel like I missed a whole semester in just two days,” she says, shaking her head. “This morning was really bad—I’m totally out of it.”
“Winter break is tough,” I agree, pushing open the glass doors to the dining hall.
We load up our trays, and it doesn’t take long to zone in on my friends.
“Lois!” Lewis waves us over. “You survived!”
When he goes to hug her, she freezes.
“Are you still icky?”
“I’m super contagious.” She ducks away from his embrace. “You better stay away from me. Like, really far away.” She steps back, flapping a hand. “Farther, Lewis.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Trust me, it’s for your own good. I’ve honestly never been sicker in my whole life. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone—not even you.” She pats his chest.
“She’s so goddamn caring,” says Don through a mouthful of chips.
“How about you, Lane? Are you infected, too?” Adam pulls a face at me.
“I’m Teflon, man—nothing sticks. I made direct contact with her puke and lived to tell the tale.”
Adam points a trembling finger at me. “A survivor!”
“Oh, give me a break!” Lois is blushing.
Becca waves a spoon at her soup. “Guys! Kinda trying to eat here.”
“I genuinely didn’t think a human body could contain that much barf. I’m pretty sure the neighbors all heard, including Kirk.”
Everybody starts laughing. Everyone, that is, except Lois, who sits there glaring at me.
“Good one, Lane,” she snaps. “I should’ve spat in your coffee and taken you down with me.”
“Not sure that it would’ve changed much,” I snipe without thinking.
She widens her eyes at me. Luckily, none of the others seem to catch my slip-up, and the conversation flows on, me playing the good old Lane they know and love, pushing my feelings out of mind. What I said was true, though: considering everything we did on the couch, if whatever she had was contagious, I’d definitely have caught it by now.
Stop thinking about that fucking couch, man.
I dunk a chicken tender into my ketchup and take a bite to distract myself. The table is chatting away happily when suddenly Lois’s phone rings and I tune out of the group conversation, my eyes locked on her.
“Uh, sure!” Her face lightens. “Okay, I’ll be there. Great. Thank you so much.”
