“Ok, you have three minutes to snap out of it or we’re leaving. You’re the one who wanted to do this thing, Bennett. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Laney. I swear to God, this has never happened to me, ever. That Tate, he literally just short-circuited my brain.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“NO! I want to stay, and lick him...well, maybe not really, but I want to stay. Please help me; cover the odd for me. Please kick in and be my wing girl! I know you can do it, for meeeee?”
If I’m her only hope for wing girl, she’s obviously desperate, so pity for that alone takes over. Debating internally for a minute, I give her a confident nod. “Yup, I got this. I’m Laney Walker, all grown up and all alone. Well except for you, B, but you’re not really here right now. I got your back; let’s go!”
I have no idea what I’m saying, but even I’m getting sick of feeling sorry for myself and acting all “sheltered bitch” with everyone, so what the hell. Bennett needs me! And for different reasons altogether, I need her. She’s upbeat, jovial, loving life...the way I was when I was little, before I second guessed everyone’s motives and intentions. I remember it being fun. I know how to hang out with people; I’m not a leper or shut-in...and these people seem cool, right?
I walk out of the bathroom determined; I’ll be damned if I give these guys any reason to suspect I’m not a pro at this. The boys appear to be bartending, and Stars of Track & Field is playing, heck ya—I love this song. Sawyer’s glance screams “You two freaky chicks gonna make it?!”
“Hey, guys, sorry. Soooo love this song.” Oh hell, I am so bad at this.
“Oh yeah, what’s it called?” Dane smirks.
“‘End of All Time.’” I shoot him a know-it-all grin.
Don’t even try it, boy, music is my thing.
“Very nice.” He winks. He’s a winker. I know someone else who does that, smiling to myself at the thought.
“This is a great song. I’m Whitley Thompson, by the way,” she puts her hand out to me, long red nails coming at me like daggers.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Laney.”
“Are you a freshman here, Laney?” The way she just sneered freshman and my name lets me know she’s not trying to be friendly. So why even introduce yourself? I so don’t do catty, and am unclear exactly what the hell her instant problem with me is, but I’ll sure solve it for her if need be.
“Sure am.”
“Well, welcome. I’m a junior, captain of the Lovely Larks.” What the heck is a Lovely Lark? She must read my expression because she continues. “It’s the award-winning girls’ acapella performance group.”
That is pretty cool. “That’s awesome. I actually watched The Sing Off and Pitch Perfect and really liked them both.”
“Really, are you a singer?”
She doesn’t care, why is she asking? Why am I still tolerating this conversation? “Oh, God no, I’m a terrible singer,” I laugh. “I’m on the softball team here.”
“Ohhhhh, you’re a softball player?” So snide...and I’m officially done.
“I am, wanna see my bat?” I step closer to her, dead calm in my eyes.
Dane doubles over laughing and Sawyer spews beer all over the place while Whitley turns the color of her lipstick.
She opens her mouth to say something else, but Bennett cuts in. “Come on, Laney, let’s go.”
I move to go with her, but Dane speaks up. “Oh no, you guys aren’t leaving, she is. Take off, Whitley. Now.”
Whitley’s mouth falls open but Dane’s cold stare silences her and she moves to the door. He walks her to it with no words spoken between them. He turns around to us, slightly red-faced, and offers a weak smile.
The tension in the room is thick, so I try to break it. “I’m really sorry about that. I wouldn’t really take a bat to her. I could always just tie her up and force her to listen to me sing.”
Dane’s head falls back and he laughs with his whole body, Tate and Sawyer joining him.
“Damn, Laney, you’re my new favorite person,” Sawyer chuckles.
“Well, I’m glad I’m somebody’s favorite. I’m sure as hell not Whitley’s...and I’m all torn up about it,” I say, sticking out my bottom lip in my best fake pout. “Enough about me, though.” I change the subject. “So, boys, wanna tell us about yourselves? I mean, maybe not as much as Bennett chose to share.” This gets laughs all around, even Bennett. I’m seriously doing a really good job running this show. Bennett needs to make me a wing girl badge or something.
“Shut up, bitch. I was nervous.”
And now I know we’re really friends.
“What were you nervous about, Bennett?” Tate flashes a beaming smile. He knows the answer. “Very cool name, by the way.”
Bennett blushes, and she’s a redhead, so it’s noticeable. “I guess I’m keyed up from all of this tonight; feels a little like speed dating.”
“Good call! It does feel like that,” he agrees with her.