Don scoops up my controllers and turns on the console. “I demand a rematch.”
I do my best to focus on each round, but I can’t stop myself from wondering where Lois is.
“Man, you look rough.” Adam glances over at me from the corner of the couch. “You sick or something?”
“Anyone got a status update for Lewis?” I ask.
Adam swipes through his phone. “He’s flagged as ‘off’ on the app. He’s probably getting laid. You know he’s going through a ‘hot girls with glasses’ phase?”
“Hey, by the way,” Don cuts him off, “you didn’t tell us what happened with Lois’s room.”
Saved by the bell: Just as he asks, my phone starts vibrating, the ringtone blaring through the sound system. I glance down at my screen. Juliet. A.k.a. “Not Lois.” Fuck. Where the hell is she? I check off the options. Gym class isn’t tonight, Becca is with Carter… I ignored every one of her calls this past weekend, and now regret is twisting in me like a knife.
My phone starts ringing again, but my hands are busy with the controller. I tap it onto loudspeaker and turn my attention back to the TV as I talk.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, Laney.”
The noise is deafening. Juliet must be calling from the bar.
“Everything okay?” I take Adam down with a bullet to the head.
“Yup.”
“Hey, Juliet!” Don and Adam call out together.
“Oh, you guys are all there? Amazing news!”
“We’re just missing Lewis,” Adam corrects her.
“Yeah, about that.” Juliet clears her throat. “We may have a situation.”
Adam frowns at the speaker. “There a problem?”
“A pretty big one, yeah! He showed up at the bar with his girlfriend—both of them tanked. I need you to come pick them up ASAP, or I’m going to have to call the cops.”
“Lewis is wasted?” I glance at the oven clock. “But it’s not even nine.”
“Is his girlfriend cute?” Don wants to know.
“You know her. Short brown hair. She was at your birthday party, Lane.”
My thumb misses the joystick and Adam guns me down.
“Lois?” he asks for me.
No fucking way. Juliet must have got her mixed up with someone else. Firstly, Lois doesn’t get wasted. And secondly—Lois doesn’t get wasted with Lewis. Like, ever.
“I need to get back to work. I’m counting on you guys.”
As soon as she hangs up, I dial Lewis.
“Yo!” His voice comes blaring through the speaker, and yeah—he’s definitely wasted. “You good, my little chickadee?”
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Don asks.
“Tequila slammers with my Super Friend!”
