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"...Yeah."

"And…?" she huffs, already annoyed. "Jeff, you suck at gossip."

"I’m staying with Jamie. We made up."

"Uh-huh, okay...And?"She’s practically vibrating with impatience.

I roll my eyes, tone dripping with exasperation. "Damn, Lucy, what else do you want?"

"Did you do it?"

"...Do what?"

"Jeff! Did. You. Do. It?"

"...Yeah. There’s been a lot of doing it, actually—"

I pause, waiting as Lucy dissolves into laughter, absolutely losing it. Why is she like this? She always has to turn everything into a big deal.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You have no idea how proud I am of you—"

"I might be coming here to visit more often," I interrupt, shrugging like it’s no big deal. "I think this is finally... a thing."

The words feel hollow the second they’re out of my mouth. 'A thing.'That’s what I just fucking called it?

It’s not just a thing.

I should’ve told Lucy the truth—that I’m in love with Jamie. That I can’t stand the thought of not seeing him for days, weeks, months at a time. That I have a boyfriend now. But instead, it came out like… that. Jamie wouldn’t like it if he heard. He’d be pissed. Or worse, sad. I can already picture that look of disappointment he gets, like I’ve let him down. My stomach twists.

"Well, I’ll miss you..." Lucy says, her voice softer now. Then, after a beat: "Wait, you’re not moving, right? Jamie’s not moving?"

"Nah, that’s not happening right now," I reply, shaking off my thoughts as I refocus on my game.

"How long are you staying?"

"I’ve only got a few more days. Jamie already had to go back to work," I say distractedly, then something hits me. "Hey..."

"Yeah?"

"...Do you talk to Jamie? Like, on the phone?"

The silence on the other end says everything I need to know.

"Fuck off, Lucy. Are you serious?" I pause the game, pick up the phone, and bring it to my ear.

"What?! Is that bad?!" she fires back, all defensive.

I can’t believe this. Lucy’s supposed to be my best friend—we tell each other everything. Or at least, we’re supposed to. She’s my version of Jamie in LA. Grounded, level-headed, minus the constant urge to make out. How could she keep this from me?

"Lucy, you didn’t tell me?!"

"Did Jamie tell you?"

"No! I put two and two together, Lucy. I can’t believe this—"

"He’s my wingman."

That throws me. "...What?"