Page 102 of Badd Baby

Rune covered her face. "Lindsey."

"What? You do and you know it, hooker-beans! You just can't—"

"I told him I did, Lindsey!" She yelled. "Move on, please!"

“Oh." She looked from Rune to me and back. "Cool, cool. Moving on. Reason number two: LA traffic. It sucks. There are barely even roads in Alaska, let alone four-hour traffic jams straight out of Satan's butthole."

When I opened my mouth to protest the Alaskan roads comment, she once again glared me into silence.

"I know, I know, Alaska has roads. Just…you shushy-time." She let her expression go serious, then. "Rune, all jokes aside—which you know is hard for me—you belong with Duncan, and Duncan belongs in Alaska, ergo, you belong in Alaska. He even looks weird here. He's clearly a fish out of water. His inner light is dimmed by the oppressive Angeleno heat and smog.”

Rune sighed. "I thought you said it was all joking aside."

"Who's joking? Look at him!"

I frowned. "I'm…fine? What are you ever talking about, woman?"

She frowned back. "Don't woman me, man. I'm trying to help you."

I held up both hands, glaring at Dane, who was having trouble containing his laughter.

"Look, Rune,” Lindsey said, “I’m serious. If your parents are leaving LA temporarily, maybe even permanently, what's keeping you here? I hate LA. I've been looking for an excuse to move literally anywhere. If you move to Alaska, maybe I will too. You'll need a buddy to keep you company during what I hear are some super epic Badd Clan parties." She glanced at Dane sidelong for some reason, and then back to me. "Don’t stay here for me, or for your parents. If you move, we'll come to you. Maybe not permanently, but regularly. You love Dane—I mean, Duncan, sorry. You love Duncan. He loves you. You belong together."

"What about my job?" Rune asked.

Lindsey stabbed a thumb downward, raspberrying again. "You mean your entry-level job that in no way uses your degree or offers any kind of job security or advancement? The job that has you literally making copies and taking notes? That job?"

Rune frowned. "It's not that bad."

"Do you love it?" Lindsey asked. "Does it fulfill you?"

"I mean…it could. In time."

Lindsey rolled her eyes. "It's a job, babe, not a career." She got up and crossed the room, jamming herself between Rune and me. “Go sit with your brother," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered, going over to sit beside Dane.

"So, Lindsey?” I whispered to Dane.

"If it were me," he stage-whispered back, "I'd be more focused on the conversation that very well might dictate my entire future."

"But there's a thing," I said.

"There's not not a thing, but don't worry about it." He pointed at Lindsey and Rune. "Pay attention."

"Rune, I say this with love, but you've never had a very clear idea what you wanted for your future," Lindsey said. "You majored in business because it was an easy path. You're good at school. But you know as well as I do that you had a whole vision for your future that had nothing to do with where you worked."

Rune dropped her gaze. "Linz, don't."

"I'm gonna, babe, so pucker that butthole."

"Gross."

Lindsey took Rune's hands. "Your vision for your future was all about Hayes. The house. The kids. I know you remember the conversation we had about that as clearly as I do."

"We were drinking when we had that conversation, and I hadn't realized what a cheating puddle of pond scum he is," Rune said.

"You're missing the point, Rune," Lindsey said. "I think you had the right vision, just with the wrong guy."