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Shane was mad at Laney, but Dustin didn’t know why. And Laney seemed to think it was funny.

She blew out the birthday candles on her ice cream cake, cutting enormous pieces for everyone that gave them all brain freeze, and then Jerry said it was time to go.

Dustin expected Laney to sulk or put up a fight. It was probably the only night of the year she could get away with not coming home and not risking getting in trouble for it, so he’d assumed they’d be spending the night. But she packed up her things, put on her coat, and climbed into Shane’s truck without a fuss.

Shane drove them home without a word, his stony silence starkly contrasted by All I Want For Christmas playing on the radio. Laney’s hands clutched Shane’s arm as she laid her head on his shoulder, shifting slightly every time he changed gears.

“Shane, come on… don’t be mad…”

“I’ll be mad if I want to be mad,” he grumbled, shaking her off his arm.

“You sound like a baby.”

“You acted like one.”

“Oh my God, you were there too you know!”

“Why is it always up to me, huh? Can’t you just not push me for like, one minute?”

“If I didn’t push you we’d be playing checkers and holding hands,” she yelled.

“ Maybe we should be!”

“Tell me that again the next time your fingers are in my –”

She stopped, and they both glanced in the rearview mirror. Dustin stared out the window, trying to make himself invisible.

“I’m sorry, Shane,” Laney said, blowing out a breath. “I… got carried away. Okay? I won’t do it again. I’m really sorry.”

Shane huffed but didn’t say anything.

“Please?” Laney pouted, “Please forgive me? It’s my birthday…”

It got quiet, and Dustin could tell they were speaking silently, but he didn’t understand what passed between them – he didn’t understand a lot of what passed between them, anymore – but clearly Shane forgave her because he begrudgingly lifted his arm and she tucked underneath it, snuggling in tight.

As they pulled around the corner and onto their street, Dustin’s heart sank.

All the lights were on, and Ma’s beat up Jetta was parked haphazardly in the driveway blocking the sidewalk.

“Happy birthday to me,” Laney muttered.

Shane sighed. It was a long, deep, tired sound that made Dustin think of old people. He parked the truck on the curb, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and got out with them.

“Don’t come in,” Laney said, eyeing the front door. “It’s not worth it.”

Shane rubbed the back of his head with both of his hands. “You sure?”

Laney nodded at him, and Dustin scowled and looked away as she kissed him, the smacking sounds and weird little sighs she made grossing him out.

“Call me later, okay? Let me know… how it goes…” Shane said to her. Then he offered Dustin a fist bump. “Merry Christmas, my man…” he said.

“Merry Christmas Shane,” Dustin said, looking at his shoes.

Shane got in the truck and drove away.

“Well fuck me,” Laney said, running her hand through her hair. It reminded Dustin of Shane, like she’d picked up the habit. “Ma has blessed us with her presence for two Christmases in a row…”

Lucky you, Dustin thought.

Laney snickered and took his hand as they walked up the steps.

Lucky us, she corrected.