Page 156 of Lovers Like Us

Jane snorts. “Oh yes, in your life, bodyguard duties include giving head.” She narrows her eyes at the dark road. “God, could you even imagine? What would I say?Hello Mr. Moretti, I’m in need of some oral assistance. Would you be so kind to spread myknees?”

Someone clears their throat behind us. “Maximoff.”

That’s notFarrow.

Fuuuck.

Jane and I suddenly freeze, her eyes about to explode out of her head. She flushes, fumbles with her cell, and the light blinks on and off. She curses in French before we both turn and face ThatcherMoretti.

“Yeah?” I answer him and glance over his shoulder. The others are further back. Not matching ourpace.

Thatcher doesn’t acknowledge Jane. Just speaking to me. “There’s a small town a mile up. We’re all heading thatway.”

“Alright, soundsgood.”

Jane is radiating embarrassed heat. But where other people tend to shy from it, she steps further into the light. Like that will bebetter.

“Thatcher,” Jane greets. “I’m just going to come out and ask. Did you hear what we were talkingabout?”

His brooding, stern face is exactly the same. But he finally looks at Jane. “Idid.”

Jane crosses her arms, not breaking eye contact withhim.

I’d like to make some posters, hoist them high, and they’d have an arrow to Janie and they’d say:that’s my best fuckingfriend.

“And?” she askshim.

A gust blowsthrough.

Thatcher unrolls the sleeves to his red flannel shirt. “And if you need any kind of oral assistance,” he says, using her words which just entrances her more. “Then I can call someone for you. Nateor—”

“I can make my own phone calls, thank you,” she says breezily. “That’s all.” She rotates on the tips of her toes, facing forward, and only I’m able to see her wide eyes that pretty much shoutwhat justhappened?

Thatcher looks to me. “Yougood?”

“Yeah.” Inod.

He stays an awkward beat longer beforeleaving.

When I turn back to Jane, she says, “He offered to find a guy to go down on me.” She pauses. “It’s actually sweet. Why do I think that’s sweet?” She touches her forehead like she’s running a fever. “Merde.”

I think a lot. How Farrow can’t stand Thatcher. How Thatcher can’t stand Farrow. How I’malwaysgoing to take Farrow’s side in thatrivalry.

But if Jane is into Thatcher, it’d complicate everything. So I just need to know… “Jane, do you have feelingsfor—”

“No,” she denies quickly. “No.” She shakes her head. “We’re on a smooth trajectory, Moffy.” She clasps my hand. “Don’t you feelit?”

There’s a leaker and a stalker out there, and I’m still on a bus with Charlie. “If bysmooth, you meanan asteroid is headed our way, then yeah. We’re on the smoothest trajectory there ever couldbe.”

Jane laughs, but the noise fades fast and she points at the wheat field. Orange speckled light in the distance. “That must be the town upahead.”

37

FARROW KEENE

We cutthrough a dirt path in the wheat field, leading us towards a small Kansastown.

Notifications ping and buzz on multiple phones. Cell signal must’ve returned. As we walk, I check my texts since I sent one to my father this morning. The first time I’ve texted him inyears.