“I cut out early,” he says to her, “wanted to see you. I miss you.”
She lowers her hand, smiles at him. Swear, it’s like he puts all his bullshit in a blender and feeds it to her with a Fuck You money, platinum, handcrafted spoon.
And it’s hard, so hard, to keep my irritation in check. But I do. I say, “I was just telling Laney—”
“Her name’s Lois. Who the fuck gave her that name, anyway? It’s dumb.”
Her hand lowers under the table, probably to his leg, and she whispers his name. She doesn’t gasp like she did when I threw shit his direction, but hey… she loves him. And love is fucking blind. She doesn’t go on to tell him the details of her nickname, that my mom gave it to her and how much she (apparently) loved my mom because it obviously doesn’t compare to how much she loves him. Now I’m being mean. And stupid. And I know she loved my mom and that was a really shitty thing to think. I force a smile, let Laney know it’s okay that she doesn’t want to tell him, and say, “I was just telling Lois that I was having a few people over for New Year’s.” My fake kindness even goes as far as to say, “You’re both welcome to come.” And the bile’s in my throat again.
“We can’t,” Cooper says, picking at the food on Laney’s plate. “My buddies and I rented out a houseboat for the night.”
“You know Lois gets sea sick, right?”
He hates me. I can tell by the tick in his jaw. He hates that I know more about his girlfriend, and I’m smirking at him because I don’t hate him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he stood up right now, in the middle of a packed cafeteria, and asked Laney to get a ruler while we both whip out our dicks for her to measure. She doesn’t need a ruler. I’ve seen Cooper in the shower. I’d win. And when that didn’t satisfy him, he’d challenge me to a pissing contest and I’d win again. But Cooper’s dumb because it’s not about either of those things. It’s about who loves Laney more. And I’d win that, too. Every single time. Because I know she gets sea sick and I know that when she gets sick (even with lady cramps) she likes to have her back rubbed. And I know exactly where to rub it. I’m still smirking, and it takes him eleven seconds to start shrinking. Fuck you, Cooper Kennedy.
I win.
Lane grasps his arm, forces him to break our staring competition.
I win.
She asks him, “You want to get out of here? I have nothing important for the rest of the day.”
She leaves with him, but not before he gives me another one of those pathetic attempts at intimidation. They walk out of the cafeteria with his hand on her ass and he thinks he’s won, but I had that ass first. So…
I win.
Cooper gives me hell during practice and I expected nothing less, so I came prepared and got Garray in on the joke, too. “Yes Sir, Drill Sergeant, Sir!” is our new response to everything. God, I love that look in Cooper’s eyes—the one that says he’d give absolutely anything to be able to sucker punch me in front of everyone but—and this is the best part—this is his “community service” and he’s a “figure of authority” and Garray and I are nothing but cocky high school kids under his watch. It’s glorious, really, to see his anger rise and rise and rise some more. It earns Garray and me an afternoon detention each from Coach Anderman, our real coach, and we pretend like we care until we turn our backs on him and snicker to ourselves like we’re fucking eight, not eighteen. “Totally worth it,” Garray says, bumping my fist because he’s my best friend and he’s on my side, the side Laney should be on. We walk toward the locker rooms and he keeps walking while I stop in front of Laney. She’s always here, always waiting for her beloved. Her glare instantly wipes the smirk off my face. She sneers, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I wipe the sweat off my face with the bottom of my tee and shrug. “It was just a joke, Lane. Christ.”
She steps closer, her tone somewhere between a whisper and a growl. “You think this is a game, Lucas, and it’s not.” Wait, is she about to cry? “He was already on edge after that shit you pulled at lunch, and you keep pushing his buttons!” She pokes a finger into my chest, over and over, harder and harder. Buttons. “You’ve gone out of your way to piss him off, to make him angry, and it’s all well and good for you because you’re not the one who has to deal with him. I am!” Then she storms off, her feet heavy, stomp, stomp, stomping on my heart.
I throw my arms out and shout, late to retort, “If your boyfriend has a problem with me, I’m right fucking here!”
She turns swiftly, wipes at her eyes. “That’s not how it works, Luke! Grow the fuck up!” And she runs away this time. More distance, more space and even though I could close the gap, catch up to her, I’d still know that my actions caused my fate, and somewhere along the way, I lost you, Laney.
Chapter Twenty
LUCAS
It’s 11:49 again.
Different month.
Different day.
A few of my friends are here, Dumb Name included, but there are more of Leo’s friends than mine. We’re drunk. Well, they are. I’m beyond it. I’ve spent the past few days thinking about her and wondering how she is. Where she is. She hasn’t replied to a single text and every time I call, her phone is switched off. But, Cooper is home and Cooper despises me and she loves Cooper and maybe she even loves Cooper enough to despise me the same way.
I don’t normally sit around at my own parties grasping my phone like a baby with their blanky, but it’s called a “security blanket” for a reason, right? I should give up on her like I should give up on my phone, but my phone is what connects me to her, and it’s my security blanket.
It’s not as if I expect her to call, but I want her to. And maybe that’s why Garray’s grabbing my shoulder and telling me to, “Let it go, dude,” while he points across the room to a girl who came with his girl—a girl I’ve never seen before, a girl who’s looking at me with fuck me eyes, most likely because she was promised by Garray and his girl that I would, in fact, fuck her.
11:50 and New Girl has ten minutes to convince me that fucking her won’t fuck over my chances with a girl who’s in love with a guy who despises me.
“She’s probably fucking Cooper right now, and you’re sitting here like a junkie waiting for his next hit. Let. It. Go.”
Dumb Name’s right.
But still, I do nothing. Just sit. Watch the seconds tick by.
11:55 and New Girl sits down next to me. “Rad party,” she coos.
In which decade was “rad” still a word people used? Pretty sure it was pre-Laney and I was walking around in a red eye mask, red knee pads and a red cape Mom made me so I could pretend to be Raphael. Ninja Turtles didn’t even wear capes, but my mom was that awesome.
I smile, look at her properly for the first time. She’s not as hot as Garray’s girl and nowhere near as hot as Laney, but she’ll do because I need to let it go. I casually rest my arm on the back of the couch and lean in close. “Who’s your favorite ninja turtle?” I ask her.
She lowers her hand, smiles at him. Swear, it’s like he puts all his bullshit in a blender and feeds it to her with a Fuck You money, platinum, handcrafted spoon.
And it’s hard, so hard, to keep my irritation in check. But I do. I say, “I was just telling Laney—”
“Her name’s Lois. Who the fuck gave her that name, anyway? It’s dumb.”
Her hand lowers under the table, probably to his leg, and she whispers his name. She doesn’t gasp like she did when I threw shit his direction, but hey… she loves him. And love is fucking blind. She doesn’t go on to tell him the details of her nickname, that my mom gave it to her and how much she (apparently) loved my mom because it obviously doesn’t compare to how much she loves him. Now I’m being mean. And stupid. And I know she loved my mom and that was a really shitty thing to think. I force a smile, let Laney know it’s okay that she doesn’t want to tell him, and say, “I was just telling Lois that I was having a few people over for New Year’s.” My fake kindness even goes as far as to say, “You’re both welcome to come.” And the bile’s in my throat again.
“We can’t,” Cooper says, picking at the food on Laney’s plate. “My buddies and I rented out a houseboat for the night.”
“You know Lois gets sea sick, right?”
He hates me. I can tell by the tick in his jaw. He hates that I know more about his girlfriend, and I’m smirking at him because I don’t hate him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he stood up right now, in the middle of a packed cafeteria, and asked Laney to get a ruler while we both whip out our dicks for her to measure. She doesn’t need a ruler. I’ve seen Cooper in the shower. I’d win. And when that didn’t satisfy him, he’d challenge me to a pissing contest and I’d win again. But Cooper’s dumb because it’s not about either of those things. It’s about who loves Laney more. And I’d win that, too. Every single time. Because I know she gets sea sick and I know that when she gets sick (even with lady cramps) she likes to have her back rubbed. And I know exactly where to rub it. I’m still smirking, and it takes him eleven seconds to start shrinking. Fuck you, Cooper Kennedy.
I win.
Lane grasps his arm, forces him to break our staring competition.
I win.
She asks him, “You want to get out of here? I have nothing important for the rest of the day.”
She leaves with him, but not before he gives me another one of those pathetic attempts at intimidation. They walk out of the cafeteria with his hand on her ass and he thinks he’s won, but I had that ass first. So…
I win.
Cooper gives me hell during practice and I expected nothing less, so I came prepared and got Garray in on the joke, too. “Yes Sir, Drill Sergeant, Sir!” is our new response to everything. God, I love that look in Cooper’s eyes—the one that says he’d give absolutely anything to be able to sucker punch me in front of everyone but—and this is the best part—this is his “community service” and he’s a “figure of authority” and Garray and I are nothing but cocky high school kids under his watch. It’s glorious, really, to see his anger rise and rise and rise some more. It earns Garray and me an afternoon detention each from Coach Anderman, our real coach, and we pretend like we care until we turn our backs on him and snicker to ourselves like we’re fucking eight, not eighteen. “Totally worth it,” Garray says, bumping my fist because he’s my best friend and he’s on my side, the side Laney should be on. We walk toward the locker rooms and he keeps walking while I stop in front of Laney. She’s always here, always waiting for her beloved. Her glare instantly wipes the smirk off my face. She sneers, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I wipe the sweat off my face with the bottom of my tee and shrug. “It was just a joke, Lane. Christ.”
She steps closer, her tone somewhere between a whisper and a growl. “You think this is a game, Lucas, and it’s not.” Wait, is she about to cry? “He was already on edge after that shit you pulled at lunch, and you keep pushing his buttons!” She pokes a finger into my chest, over and over, harder and harder. Buttons. “You’ve gone out of your way to piss him off, to make him angry, and it’s all well and good for you because you’re not the one who has to deal with him. I am!” Then she storms off, her feet heavy, stomp, stomp, stomping on my heart.
I throw my arms out and shout, late to retort, “If your boyfriend has a problem with me, I’m right fucking here!”
She turns swiftly, wipes at her eyes. “That’s not how it works, Luke! Grow the fuck up!” And she runs away this time. More distance, more space and even though I could close the gap, catch up to her, I’d still know that my actions caused my fate, and somewhere along the way, I lost you, Laney.
Chapter Twenty
LUCAS
It’s 11:49 again.
Different month.
Different day.
A few of my friends are here, Dumb Name included, but there are more of Leo’s friends than mine. We’re drunk. Well, they are. I’m beyond it. I’ve spent the past few days thinking about her and wondering how she is. Where she is. She hasn’t replied to a single text and every time I call, her phone is switched off. But, Cooper is home and Cooper despises me and she loves Cooper and maybe she even loves Cooper enough to despise me the same way.
I don’t normally sit around at my own parties grasping my phone like a baby with their blanky, but it’s called a “security blanket” for a reason, right? I should give up on her like I should give up on my phone, but my phone is what connects me to her, and it’s my security blanket.
It’s not as if I expect her to call, but I want her to. And maybe that’s why Garray’s grabbing my shoulder and telling me to, “Let it go, dude,” while he points across the room to a girl who came with his girl—a girl I’ve never seen before, a girl who’s looking at me with fuck me eyes, most likely because she was promised by Garray and his girl that I would, in fact, fuck her.
11:50 and New Girl has ten minutes to convince me that fucking her won’t fuck over my chances with a girl who’s in love with a guy who despises me.
“She’s probably fucking Cooper right now, and you’re sitting here like a junkie waiting for his next hit. Let. It. Go.”
Dumb Name’s right.
But still, I do nothing. Just sit. Watch the seconds tick by.
11:55 and New Girl sits down next to me. “Rad party,” she coos.
In which decade was “rad” still a word people used? Pretty sure it was pre-Laney and I was walking around in a red eye mask, red knee pads and a red cape Mom made me so I could pretend to be Raphael. Ninja Turtles didn’t even wear capes, but my mom was that awesome.
I smile, look at her properly for the first time. She’s not as hot as Garray’s girl and nowhere near as hot as Laney, but she’ll do because I need to let it go. I casually rest my arm on the back of the couch and lean in close. “Who’s your favorite ninja turtle?” I ask her.
