“Thanks. No need to wait for me to eat.”
“Got it.”
“See ya, Carter!”
“Give Becca a kiss from me. Tell her to come to my place tonight.”
She flashes him a thumbs-up and shoots me one last quick smile before slamming the door behind her.
“She’s cool,” Carter murmurs, staring at the door. “Mike would’ve loved her.”
“I know.”
It’s true. My brother would have really liked her, and I’m sure she would have liked him much more than she likes me. He had this way of getting people wrapped around his finger, and… I push Mike out of mind.
“Come on, let’s wrap this up,” I sigh.
But no matter how hard I try, somewhere at the back of my mind, there’s the distant rumble and roar of a motorbike crashing through space and time.
14LOIS
I’m sitting to Lane’s right, watching the streets of Sycamore Heights rush by. The temperature has plummeted, the locals swaddled in their coats, hurrying down the sidewalks. I can’t believe how fast time is flying by. It’s been two months since Kirk broke up with me, eight weeks since I decided to whip myself into shape and get my shit together. I’ve spent sixty nights or so on Lane’s couch. It’s comfy enough, but ever since I found out the room down the hall is a whole ass emptybedroom, the cushions don’t feel as soft.
I honestly thought Lane asked me to go and get the script stuff in that room. And when I entered, the spaciousness of it took me by surprise. Despite the closed shutters, I could make out a large bed, a desk, and two dressers. It didn’t take me long to realize that the script wasn’t there and that Lane never uses the room—no clutter, none of his telltale scent lingering in the air. I stood there rooted to the ground as surprise turned to anger.I mean, really?I’d been stuck on that crappycouchforweeks, while there was a nice plush mattress going spare right down the hall?
When Lane called me back in, I closed the door, ran to the desk in his room to complete my mission, and headed back into the living room, shaken. I was tempted to shoot him down with a quip, but thenI remembered: He’s doing me a huge favor, and one that keeps me within striking distance of Kirk. There’s no way I can have a meltdown over this.
“What’s on your mind, Heartbreak?”
I turn away from the world outside the window to focus on my driver.
“The grocery list I wrote and left in the kitchen.” I shrug.
I could ask him about the room, and in fact I’ve had two weeks to do just that: But something’s stopping me. Probably the prospect of being made homeless, all because I disrespected Lane’s blurry boundaries.
“Considering that lame-ass diet you’re on, you probably don’t need a list.”
“Uh-huh. Tuning out now.”
“Your conversations are fascinating,” Lewis calls out from the back seat. “You sound like my fucking parents.”
I stick my tongue out at him and glance at Lane again. He’s focused on the road, one hand on the wheel, jaw tense. There’s something about the way he’s driving… like he’s starring in some moody indie film or something. I hate that I’m even noticing how annoyingly sexy it looks. The relationship we have is a plot twist, to say the least. I’m not sure I can describe it as a friendship, because we’ve never shared anything too personal, but the fact is, we get on weirdly well. I wonder what will happen to us if Kirk and I ever got back together.
“You’re staring at me, Lois. Don’t tell me the Campus Drivers effect is finally kicking in.”
“Right, that’s me busted!” I laugh, maybe a little too hard. “I’m falling in love with you, Laney. The way you buckle your seat belt… Your hands on the steering wheel…”
“Wait until you see me parallel park.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Oh, yes! Please.” I fan myself with my hand. “Parallel park, parallel park me right this minute!”
“You guys are super weird,” Lewis interjects, leaning between our seats.
Lane glances at him as he waits for the lights to change. “Remind me why you’re coming grocery shopping with us, again?”
IN THE GROCERY STORE, LEWISgrabs a cart and races ahead like a kid. I swing down the first aisle, on a mission to shake off the boys—I don’t need them all up in my business while I buy tampons, that’s for sure. I wander past the shelves, filling my arms as I go, and it’s only once I get to Lane’s cart that I notice what we’ve done. He’s shopped for me. I’ve shopped for him. I laugh.
“Dude, what is this?” Lewis gestures at the cart with the box of condoms he’s holding. “Since when do you eat healthy shit?”
