I had no idea this would hurt so bad, and I suddenly understand how Lois must have felt, back when I found her on the stairs, nursing a broken heart. I stroll over to the bar and pour myself a beer from the keg. I almost feel like crouching down and drinking straight from the tap, but out the corner of my eye I see movement to my left, and my fingers tighten around my cup. I know it’s Lois without looking. I can feel her presence like the sun. My pulse quickens. I need a little more liquid courage before I can go speak to her. I drift over to a group of basketball players, listening to Lewis and Don debate their chances ofwinning the championship, batting back niceties, fending off a gaggle of wasted girls.
Time ticks by, and I still can’t find the exact right moment to go and talk to the only person I can think about. I swirl my beer around my cup, until somebody staggers into me, and half my drink goes spilling over my feet. I look up. When I see who just trashed my best sneakers, anger hits me square in the third eye.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Kirk glares at me without so much as a “sorry.”
“Not my fault you’re always in my way, man.”
“Asshole,” I growl, all my pent-up rage rushing out of me in two easy syllables.
The more I stare at him, the more I want to smash his face in—and he knows exactly how I feel, because he takes a few steps back. Before I know it, I’m striding toward him.
“Easy, Laney.” Don muscles his way between us. “Beating up Lois’s boyfriend is definitely not the game plan.”
My friend has a point. I know that. But now that I’ve got Kirk right here in front of me, I know exactly how I feel. There’s no way I can stand by and be secretly in love with Lois. I’ve already lost her. From where I’m sitting, I have nothing left to lose.
“I’ll be gentle with him!” I protest.
“He’s on the team.” Don frowns, weighing up his options. “And I’m the captain.” He glances over at Lewis. “It’s your birthday, man—what do you say?”
Lewis pretends to think. “Go easy on him. We need him fresh for the games.” He winks at me. “Just make sure he can still run.”
Placing his hands on my shoulders, Don leans into me and gives the performance of a lifetime.
“Lane! Don’t do this!”
I smile.
And a second later, my fist lands square in Kirk’s face.
His hands shoot to his nose. “Are you outta your fucking mind?”
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” I say calmly. “It’s almost as good as I imagined.”
He clenches a fist, ready to swipe back.
“Come on, Kirky-Poo,” I taunt, bouncing from foot to foot. “Just do it already.”
“Lane O-Fucking-Neill!”
I whip around to find Lois standing there, quivering with rage. Kirk seizes his chance to land a blow to my cheek, and I rip off my sweater and lunge for him, my whole body powered by pure, unbridled anger. Before I can make contact, I feel arms snaking around me.
“We said one shot, dude.”
Don and Lewis drag me over to the bay window and lock me outside, and while the fresh air does nothing to cool my temper, at least it’s helping to settle my mind. I may have gone a little too far. There’s a commotion stirring inside the house, and so I make a beeline for the garden couch, sitting myself down to listen to the trickling fountain, when suddenly there’s another sound.
Clap, clap, clap.
I glance up and my stomach flip-flops. Lois is striding toward me, slowly clapping as she goes.
“You’re quite the showman, aren’t you? Knowing Adam and Lewis, I was expecting a stripper.”
“Did I break his nose?” I ask.
“No idea. Kirk’s nose was always kind of weird.”
Didn’t stop you from loving him, though.
