“Back off!” I shove him back. “Nothing to see here.”
He shrugs and slinks back to the others. They came over to spend the evening at my place, their arms weighed down with snacks.
“What’s going on, Laney?” Don flips his baseball cap around. “Did Lois break her curfew or something?”
“Shut up, dude.”
Adam straightens. “Is that why he’s so pissy?”
“Oh, for sure!”
“Fuck off.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t care less what she’s doing with her life.”
“She’s probably with Becca,” Don says, taking a swig of his beer.
“No, Becca is at Carter’s,” I reply too fast, and I swear I hear them snicker.
“Still, though.” Adam checks my watch. “It’s pretty late.”
I sigh. “Considering the face she made when Lewis said you’d be heading over to our place this evening—”
“?‘Our place’?” Lewis interrupts me, laughing.
“I didn’t say ‘ourplace’!”
“Uh, yeah, you did. Right, guys?”
“Right!” they reply in unison.
Why are they so annoying?
“You know she’s avoiding you guys,” I say, ignoring their dumb grins.
“More like she’s avoidingyou,” Don corrects me, waving his bottle in the air. “Carter told me what happened the other night…”
I am going to kill him…
“What happened?” Adam pipes up.
“Lane brought one of his actresses back and nearly screwed her on the couch, except Lois was on it. Collateral damage. I would’ve paid good money to see that!”
They all burst out laughing, and I can’t help but do the same. That’s one memory that’s probably going to live rent-free in my mind for eternity. Lois has hardly said a word to me since, though, and I almost miss her comebacks.Almost.
“Superwoman must have felt super awkward.”
“Super pissed, you mean.”
“You guys done?”
“Lois Lane, buddy,” Lewis calls over. “It’s super funny.”
I roll my eyes and move away from my outpost to slump against the kitchen island, unlocking my phone, glancing down at the screen. Every time it flashes off, I repeat the process, and it’s so stupid because Lois doesn’t even have my number.Shit, why am I so worried, anyway?She’s been here all of two weeks, and she’ll be leaving soon enough. Theoretically at least, because as far as I know, she hasn’t come up with a solution yet. I’m struggling to picture dropping her off at astreet corner and waving her good luck through my car window.This is so messed up.
Just when I’m about to turn to the fridge to top off my drink, the Campus Drivers app beeps.
“Who’s that for?” Adam asks.
I tap the icon. “Me.”
