“No, you know what she’s like—Lois never spills her guts. You’re the only one who really knows what’s going on in that head of hers.”
There are a million things Adam could’ve said, but this—this right here is the hardest to hear.
“You should talk to her.” He glances at me, concerned.
“It’s kind of complicated, man. She did something, and I’m really pissed about it…”
At least, I think I am. The weird thing is that now I’ve seen her again, I don’t feel so sure. I’m still mad—but I’m not so sure it’s her I’m mad at.
We stock up on booze, and Adam drives me home, leaving me alone with my thoughts in my empty apartment. I spend the next ten minutes staring at my couch, playing back all the times Lois made me feel glad I wasn’t alone.
I drag out a stool, settle down behind the kitchen island, and turn on my laptop, pulling up a new document and letting my fingers loose on my keyboard. I need to get these past few months down on paper, starting with the morning Lois fell asleep on my couch. Maybe seeing it all written down in black and white will give me some perspective. Or maybe not.
I SIT ON THE FLOORagainst the front door, drafting the lines, deleting them, reworking and rewriting over and over. I’ve been on this new screenplay for a week, and while I started out strong, I’ve been stuck on the same scene for days now—the part where Lois stepped into Mike’s room and everything went wrong.
The screen strain is making my eyes burn. I can’t even bring myself to read back over what I just wrote. It feels like none of it makes sense—like I’m missing something just beyond my reach.
I want to just stand up and throw my laptop out the window, but every time I’m about to give up, something pushes me on.
Suddenly, three loud bangs come pounding above my head. I push the laptop to the side, and open the door to find Carter standing there, frowning at me.
“You going to level with me, or what?”
I take a deep breath in, rubbing at my eyes. I’ve been pushing back our work sessions, telling him I had too many assignments due, and he looks pissed.
“I’m a student, Cart. I have assignments.” I lean against the doorframe.
“That’s funny, because I haven’t seen you around campus much lately. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. I know you like I know my own dick—you can fool the others, but I’m not buying it.” He shoves open the door. “You better start talking. Maybe start with the part where Lois has been staying at Becca’s for almost a month now, avoiding everyone—even her friend.”
“What do you say we just grab a few beers?” I try.
“Hmm, let me think about that.” He pretends to consider. “No. Not when you look as shitty as you do right now.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You look like you did when your brother died.”
I don’t like talking about Mike’s death with him—or anyone. I know he feels the loss as sharply as I do, but he’s so much more resilient than I am—every time we go there, I end up feeling small.
“You know me—what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is you were solid for a while. Then shit started getting weird again when you met Lois.”
The sound of her name makes me wince.
“So that’s it!” he crows. “Listen, buddy—you can playact in front of the others, but that shit doesn’t work with me.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“You guys lived together for a few months. So it makes sense that your rela—”
“Dude, enough,” I snap. “There was no relationship. It was supposed to be temporary, remember? Now she’s gone, and it’s better that way.”
“You sure about that?”
“She was all up in my face…”
I start churning out the sentences, the same words I spat Lois’s way that fateful day. Hearing myself now, the excuses sound alien.
