“To the motel I told you about yesterday.”
“Tonight we’re going to Bennett’s for our first party of the year,” Lewis interrupts, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “You coming?”
“No, thanks, I’m exhausted.”
I wriggle free from him and turn back to Lane, who seems delighted I turned down the offer. “So?”
“It would be my pleasure! Did you download the Campus Drivers app? Only the first ride is free,” he adds snippily.
I fish my phone out of my bag and tap at the screen for a few minutes, but Lane’s huffing is distracting me, and at his twelfth sigh, he snatches the phone out of my hands.
“I’m linking your account to your Venmo,” he explains.
Just as he’s shoving my cell back at me, his own phone starts to beep. I peer down at the username he’s chosen for me.
“?‘HeartBreak04’?”
“Apparently, you’re not the first.”
“?‘CaptainLane,’?” I read out, and shake my head.
“At your service!”
He jerks his chin toward his car, and before I follow him, I cast one last look in Kirk’s direction. He’s gone, and there’s a weight nestling in my heart again. I had forgotten all about him while chatting away with these four weirdos.
Lane lifts my bag away from me and places it alongside the ones I left behind, and I slide into the passenger seat without a word.
“We’re coming with you!” Lewis chants as he settles himself in the back seat with Donovan. “Adam will see us at Bennett’s, he’s got a ride to take care of.”
I blanket myself in silence, my foot tapping on the floor as I scratch at the stitching on the seats.
As the miles fly by, I can feel the panic rising. I’ve never slept in a motel before. The one small comfort is knowing it’s not too far from Kirk’s place. It’s stupid, but knowing he’s nearby makes the surprise breakup feel less real. Deep down inside, I think that’s why I letmyself crash at Lane’s. I sneak a look at him, and he glances back at me, unsmiling, when suddenly he slams down on the brakes, and I focus back on the road in front of us. There’s a traffic jam, and that’s unusual in this part of town.
The minutes tick by. We’re not budging.
One of the guys pipes up behind us. “Bucket seats are the worst, case closed—you can’t beat a good bench seat! How do you manage to screw any girls with this setup, Lane?”
I pull a face, priming myself for a reply that thankfully never comes.
Donovan leans over between our two front seats. “Anyway, Lois: what are you studying at SHU?”
“Sports PT.”
“Seriously? That’s awesome!”
“Why?”
“Me and Lewis are on the basketball team! You’ll be rubbing down our bulging muscles.”
I grimace and shift around to press my back to the door. “Why are you phrasing it like that? It’s disgusting.”
“I know.” He snickers, pleased with himself. “You better get used to it. The Cardinals aren’t exactly known for their manners.”
“Kirk isn’t like that,” I say, too loud.
Lane’s eyes drift off the road for a split second, and he glances at me.
“Who?”
