“Looks like you’ll be spending the night alone, Don.” Lewis points over at Becca.
She’s been draped over the kitchen island chatting to Carter for more than an hour now, and considering the way they’re looking at each other, I’m willing to bet they won’t be hanging around much longer. I realize that Lois, meanwhile, has vanished.
I stretch. “Okay, guys, party’s over. Get the hell outta here.”
Carter and Becca don’t need asking twice, and as soon as they leave, the others follow suit. I walk them down to the sidewalk, hoping to get a little fresh air.
“Happy birthday again,” Adam says when we get to his car. “Say good night to Lois for me.”
I shrug.
“Try not to be too much of a douche to her, Lane. Put yourself in her shoes for a minute. This is pretty raw. She bumps into her ex with his new girlfriend, I mean—”
“Hey, you want to be her shoulder to cry on?” I force a smirk. “I’ll swap her for Dexter Drake.”
“Who?”
“Forget it.”
“I know how you operate, dude. You’ve got no tolerance for sadness unless you decide it’s justified. But people are allowed to suffer for all sorts of different things. Even a breakup.”
I stare at him without flinching, and he knows what I’m telling him without me saying a word. He’s smart enough not to push it.
When I get back upstairs, I slam the front door shut behind me.
“Coast is clear!” I yell.
Nothing. I stand there, unmoving. Silence. I scan the room for a sign of Heartbreak.
“Lois?”
She’s not in the kitchen, and she’s not on the couch, either. I swipe up the last remaining bottle of vodka from the coffee table and take a swig as I move down the hall. When I get to the bathroom, I slide open the door. Bull’s-eye!
She’s sitting on the tiles hugging her legs, knees tucked up beneath her chin, gently rocking back and forth. Despite the music pumping in from the living room and how she’s doing her best to hold them back, I can hear the sobs from here.
I clear my throat, but she doesn’t look up. I take another swigand slouch in the doorway. I instinctively want to tease her—not in a mean way, just to take the edge off the situation—but she opens her mouth before I can speak.
“I’m sorry, Lane.”
The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard. “For what?”
“I know it’s your birthday.”
“Yeah, now that you mention it: Where’s my gift?”
My joke falls flat.
“And I know she’s your best friend’s sister,” she continues, “but I hate her.”
She sounds so sad, I don’t know what to say.
“She’s beautiful, she’s totally snatched, and to make it worse, she’s funny, too. Super confident, amazing hair.” Lois shakes her head. “I bet she has the softest skin. Bet she’s wild in bed.”
I’m about to break into laughter when she bursts into tears, covering her face with her hands. The way she was wallowing in self-pity pissed me off earlier, but now I actually feel sorry for her. I think back to what Adam said, and I hate to admit it, but he’s right. While she’s spent days in full-blown depression mode, her ex was already out banging someone else. I feel myself soften, and I roll my eyes. Since when do I give a shit about girls and their sob stories?
“I can’t compete,” she mumbles.
That throws me off, and I suddenly decide that though I might regret this, I need to spill some of the secrets Juliet made me swear I would always keep. I’ve known Carter’s sister since we were kids, and she’s definitely not leagues ahead of Lois.
