Chapter 8 Lois
As soon as I open my eyes, there’s a pounding in my head.
I regret last night so bad. My shoulder is numb from being squashed between the cushions for so long.
I blink a few times to clear my vision, and the first thing I see makes me recoil.
A huge toe is practically sticking up my nose, leading down to a hairy leg lying alongside my body.
I crane my neck, trying to figure out what I’m looking at here.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Lane is fast asleep on my couch, his head at my feet, his skull wedged into the armrest. We’re slotted together in the weirdest of positions, one of my legs laced between his, pulling his T-shirt tight against his chest, my other leg slung over his hip. What the hell is he doing here?
“Hello?!”
I try to wriggle under the weight, but he’s blocking pretty much every movement I try.
The only thing I can move is my left foot.
Lane is so much taller than me, and even when I stretch my leg out, my toes barely reach his neck.
Just a little push, and I kick blindly at his face. He groans, shoving my foot away.
“Lane!”
I try again—this time my heel hits him square on his chin. I mean, I know I owe him, but this is way out of line.
“Okay, that’s enough!” I yell as loud as I can. “Get off my couch! Now!”
He stiffens, slowly lifting his head, taking in my painted toenail, trailing along my calf and hip, his gaze finally meeting mine.
I stare at him with a murderous look. “Sleep well?” I ask.
He squints, shaking his head. I watch as he takes in our tangled limbs.
“Yup, that’s right.” I sweep the air with my hand. “Still here.”
“You’ve got big feet.” His voice is husky.
I open my mouth, but I don’t even know what to say to him. I mean, I do have one idea, but then I remember that for the next little while my fate is in his hands.
“Move,” I snarl.
“You first.”
“I would if I weren’t kind of trapped right now.”
We stare each other down for a moment, and I steel myself for one of his swipes. He flashes me a broad smile.
“I can’t wait until you get your guy back.”
“Finally, one thing we can agree on.”
He stretches, forcing me to shove his foot out of my face, and grabs one of my calves, pushing my leg into a pretty unladylike position. Free, at long last!
While he pours himself a coffee, I stretch out over the full length of the couch, easing my sore muscles. As memories of last night resurface, it doesn’t take long for my inner calm to fade. Fresh tears are welling up in my eyes.
“Don’t, Lois,” I mutter to myself. “Enough of the pity party. It’s time to fight back!”
When I get to the end of my pep talk, I give the cushions a sharp punch and straighten.
“Don’t mind me,” Lane taunts me from the kitchen counter.
I point at him. “You will not ruin this day. You’re dead to me. You’re not even here.”
“Wow. I need some of whatever you’re taking.”
“Who’s that?” I singsong my way to the bathroom. “I can hear distant voices…”
He snorts, and I can’t help but smile as I shut the door behind me.
Before I jump in the shower, I stand in front of the sink, examining my face in the mirror.
I need a change. Something radical. And there’s only one person for the job.
Once I’m done, I step out of the foggy bathroom and get straight on the phone.
“Becca, I need your help,” I say, cutting her groggy “hello” short.
She yawns.
Lane is watching me over his cup of coffee. He hasn’t budged an inch. I drift over to the window so as not to trigger any snark.
“I need you to help me be more…” I think for a moment. “Be better, basically.”
It takes her a while to get the words out. “What are you wearing?”
“What?”
“Right now. What are you wearing?”
“Umm… leggings?”
“Jesus. Get your ass over here.”
She hangs up. I stare at my phone, taking a moment to let it all sink in, before crouching over my bag. It’s still full of stuff. Lane hasn’t offered to share his closet, but it’s not like I have much, anyway. I pull out my sneakers and lace them up in silence.
“Need a driver?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I stuff my earbuds in, connect them to my phone, and wave goodbye to the world’s worst roommate.
I could have taken Lane up on his offer, but today is the first day of the rest of my life, with raw greens, lean protein, and lots of working out high up on the intentions list. I stride toward the campus with a determined spring in my step.
My old sneakers aren’t right for this, and I make a note to stop by the mall as soon as I’m done with Becca.
Pushing open the doors to her dorm, the stairs up to her room are the final nail in the coffin: By the time I arrive, I’m drenched, mopping my forehead with my wrist before knocking at her door three times.
“Come in!”
I hold back a stab of envy as I take in her space. I hate not having my own place.
“Did you walk here?” Becca peers at me. “You look like you’re about to puke.”
“Just last night’s afterglow,” I sigh, letting my bag fall to the floor.
I spin around, taking in the small room. I was right that I couldn’t crash here—the place is tiny, shared between her and some girl named Carrie, who I can hear snoring from the bed farthest away. Lane’s couch is definitely the comfier option.
“Ready for a makeover? Because I’m pretty sure this qualifies as an emergency.” She sizes me up. “Want a Coke?”
“Water would be great.”
She skips her way to the bathroom, returning with a tumbler.
“So what happened last night? I couldn’t find you when I left.”
“Sure you were looking properly?” I wink at her. “It must have been kind of hard to see, what with Carter glued to your face and everything.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Trust me, it was more than just his face.”
“Eww! I thought you were aiming for Donovan, anyway?”
“Nah. I’m crushing hard on Carter now. And no, I don’t get it, either.”
“He’s nice. I have no idea how he can be friends with Lane.”
She shrugs. “I think they’ve known each other since they were kids.”
“That makes sense.”
“How are you feeling, anyway?”
“Hard pass.” I massage my temples.
“I don’t know how you kept your cool last night. I would’ve been ripping the place up.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“True… Okay!” She claps her hands. “Ready for your new vibe? What are you thinking?”
She leads me over to the full-length mirror and stands behind me, chin resting on my shoulder. I take in the loser reflected back at me and sigh.
“I feel like getting tattoos, dyeing my hair blue, and having my nose pierced.” The words come streaming out of me.
“Right… Let’s start with a decent haircut, okay?” Becca tussles my hair and then looks over her shoulder.
“Carrie! Get up!” Becca shrieks, and I pull a face.
The hangover is still pounding in my eardrums, the image of Kirk and Juliet still floating before my eyes.
“What?” a voice groans from the bed.
“I need your hairdresser skills for my friend Lois here.”
I watch in the mirror as a sheet flutters, and a blond head peeks out from under the covers.
“When was your last cut?” She peers at me, yawning.
“Let’s just say it’s been a while…”
“I’m warning you, I don’t do trims. I’m an all-or-nothing kinda girl.”
“Be my guest,” I say, twirling a lock around my finger.
She heaves herself out of bed and goes into the bathroom, reemerging with a pair of scissors, a comb, and a bowl of water.
“Once she’s done, I’ll tackle your skin,” Becca adds. “It’s gross.”
“I’d throw in a little brow shaping, too,” says Carrie as she leans over my shoulder. “I don’t even want to imagine what’s going on with your bikini line.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“One look at the brows, and I know the lawn ain’t mowed! If you get me.”
“She knows her stuff, she waxes half the vajayjays on campus. You can trust her.”
My eyes dart down to my lower belly, and I scrunch up my nose.
“I guessed as much.” Carrie laughs, dipping her comb in the water. “Don’t worry! One step at a time, okay? Let’s start with this haystack you’ve got going on here.”
Nerves shoot through me as I watch her play with the scissors right near my ear. “Have you done this before?”
“Only about a thousand times.”
She rolls her desk chair over to me, and gets me to sit down. I might not cross myself, but in my head, I’m rattling off every prayer I know.
When I hear the first snip, I stiffen and do my best to ignore the long strand of hair that has just floated to the ground. I dig my nails into the armrests and let my eyes fall shut for a few minutes.
Before I know it, the chair is spinning around. A wave of nausea rises from the pit of my stomach, though that could just be the hangover. My tummy starts to gurgle.
“Want some?”
I open one eye to find Becca waving a bag of chips in my face.
“No, thanks. My junk food days are behind me.” I can feel myself blushing.
“That’s a shame. They’re really good.” Becca shrugs. “Why do you want to lose weight, anyway? Oh, that’s right! Because you want your dumbass ex-boyfriend back.”
“Seriously?” My stylist seems shocked. “Am I allowed to say that’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard?”
“I’m doing it for myself, too,” I say unconvincingly.
“Juliet isn’t all that, you know,” Becca tries to reassure me. She shoves a fistful of chips into her mouth. “And anyway, she’s Carter’s sister. It makes sense she has this aura about her. It’s like Lane. There’s stuff that’s just innate.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just the thought of that guy is enough to get me ovulating.”
I shake my head. “Ew. Not me.”
“Praise the Lord!” Carrie claps. “Finally, someone who isn’t obsessed with the Campus Drivers!”
“Ignore her.” Becca sighs. “Her only crushes are guys in books.” She juts her chin toward the enormous bookshelf taking up half the room, wiping her fingers down on her pajama top.
“Anyway, my turn to make you over! I’ve got a whole closet of clothes I never wear.
Lemme put together a few outfits for you. ”
“You don’t have to…”