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Laney seemed off today.
It’s not like she was lying in her own grave or puking all over the place. Just off, like all the furniture in her brain was moved a few inches to the left.
Which meant that it felt like all the furniture in the garage was moved a few inches to the left.
Corey tried his best to carry on with practice like normal, but he couldn’t help but wonder what was up with Laney.
Maybe she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.
Maybe she was doing homework all day so she was bummed out.
Maybe he was imagining it. She was never a hyper-happy camper to begin with.
Maybe he was the one with all his brain furniture upside down.
When they took a break from practice, Corey sat on the stage tuning his guitar while he watched Laney on the couch out of the corner of his eye. Chilling, strumming her bass. It seemed normal. So why did he feel weird?
Suddenly Laney’s hands fumbled, rocketing her pick across the garage. She made an ugly scowly face before leaning her bass against the couch and getting up to get her pick back.
As soon as she got up, Corey saw it.
A dark red stain where she had been sitting.
Immediately his eyes flicked to where she had been walking. Another stain on the back of her shirt, where she had been sitting on the fabric.
Oh no.
Panic struck as he whipped his head to the other side of the stage. Kin and Kon were distracted. Gotta move fast.
In the blink of an eye, he grabbed an old sweatshirt and had it tied around Laney’s waist.
She looked down at where the sweatshirt had suddenly appeared and looked at him like he was a weirdo. “Uh, thanks, Core?” she said slowly. “What’s this for?”
“It’s, uh, a fashion statement, Lanes,” he replied with a dramatic wave of his hand. “I wanted to see if it would look good on you.”
“A ratty, old sweatshirt around your waist is a fashion statement?”
“Yep! And I was right, it looks great on you!” He gave her two thumbs up. “You should keep it.”
“Well , Core, as much as I love being a dress-up doll,” she started, as she started to unknot the sleeves, “I think I’ll---”
“No! ” Corey grabbed her hands and she jumped. Cool it, cool it, cool it. “I-I mean, it looks so good on you, Lanes, you should wear it for the rest of the day!” he insisted and he draped an arm around her shoulders. “Besides, ratty old things are super comfy! Like a grandpa!”
She was frozen at first, and Corey raised a brow in confusion until she stuttered out, “O-okay, Corey.”
Well, that was weird. But it’s not important right now.
“Well, uh, should we start practicing again?” Laney suggested as she started walking back to the couch.
Corey's brain glitched as he remembered, Crap, the stain!
In two movements, Corey grabbed a tarp and threw it and himself onto the couch (in the coolest, most chill pose ever).
When Laney finally reached him, she stood there for a few seconds and they had a staring contest.
Before he could ask: “My bass , Corey?”
He had thrown the tarp over her bass. “Oh! Right.” Very carefully, he pulled her bass out from under the tarp without it flapping up. “Here you go.”
Once again, Laney looked at him like he’d grown a second head but she didn’t say anything. She just took her bass up to the stage for practice.
Okay, so both of the stains have been covered. But unfortunately for Corey, it wasn’t a permanent solution.
As they played on the stage, Corey couldn’t help that weird feeling in his gut, the kind that he got when Trina threatened to destroy his axe. His eyes kept going back and forth between Laney and the couch with growing anxiety.
Did Laney notice yet? What if she doesn’t? What would happen? What if she melts and turns into a lake of blood and guts?
He wasn’t sure if he could cover that up.
This whole inner monologue ran around his head like a dog for probably hours until Corey perked up when Laney excused herself to use the washroom. Now’s my chance!
The second she said that Corey slapped his hands together and announced, “Wow, practice sure works up a sweat! I could use a drink. You guys want drinks? I’m gonna go get us some iced tea,” before skipping to catch up to Laney.
“Aren’t there drinks in this fridge?” Kin asked, pointing to the fridge that lived in the garage.
“The stuff in the house is better!” Corey shouted as he and Laney left the garage.
The two walked side by side. Anxiety made Corey grip and ungrip the fabric of his shirt. If he kept following her, it would look like he was following her to the washroom and it would be weird.
Taking a deep breath, he lightly tapped her shoulder. He didn’t look at her as he slightly leaned in and whispered. “There’s stuff for you in the cabinet under the sink.”
Whether or not she heard or acknowledged what he said, Corey didn’t know. He had scampered off to the kitchen to get the iced tea so he didn’t look like a liar.
Wielding a pitcher and a handful of cups, he carried himself back to the garage.
And had a heart attack when he saw Kin and Kon messing with the tarp he threw over the couch.
For the second time, he launched his body onto the couch, nearly spilling the iced tea everywhere. And smashing his nose because he landed face-down.
And being the recipient of not one but two weird looks from the twins because he just threw himself onto the sofa like a torpedo. “I’ve got iced tea!” he cheered, as though everything was right in the world and he wasn't being weird.
As he poured each of his friends a cup, he heard the house door open and saw Laney return.
She still seemed like all of her furniture had been rearranged, but before it was like the lights were off so she kept bumping into everything. Now the lights were on and she realized her house was a wreck.
For a moment, when Corey was sitting in the exact spot where she had been, she stood there staring at him, and he stared right back.
For all intents and purposes, the problem had been resolved. Sure, Corey still walking on eggshells because the evidence was still there and he was going to have to figure out how to get blood stains out of his couch, but it was fixed now.
But things didn’t go back to normal like he had hoped. Actually, it might have gotten worse. Before Corey was just sitting in a bucket of his own anxiety, no one else was bothered. But now Laney knew, she knew he knew, and the rest of practice was flooded with a suffocating awkwardness between them.
What was worse, though, was the way his heartstrings were pulled and squeezed whenever he looked at her.
Practice wrapped up when the sun started setting. To Corey’s relief, Kin and Kon were eager to get home. Something about a time bomb in the kitchen that will end all life as they know it, he didn’t know the details. So it was just him and Laney.
Unsurprisingly, Laney seemed just as desperate to leave. She already had her bass packed and quickly called a “OkayCoreyseeyoulaterI’mgoinghomenow---”
“Hey, wait!” Corey hopped off the stage and rushed to her side, grinning despite the painful awkwardness. “Mind if I walk you home?”
She hesitated.
He waited.
She finally sighed. “Okay.”
The early evening sun bathed them in orange light, casting ten-mile-long shadows against the ground and the houses they passed on the way to Laney’s. Laney was hunched over, and from the way she stared at the sidewalk, it wasn't because she had back problems.
To be honest, Corey wasn’t much better. He wasn’t super comfy about any of this either.
But Laney probably felt worse, and that was why he was here.
“... Are you feeling okay?” he finally asked, breaking the painful silence between them.
No response. He caught a glimpse of her maybe glancing in his direction before looking away.
“... My dad says it can be painful,” he offered. He found himself snickering, “I remember when Trina got hers, she was all, waaa! I’m so disgusting! No one loves me! ” He faked a gag and pretended to puke all over the sidewalk, making noises like bleugh! and blech!
He gagged and laughed until he heard a giggle. When he looked up, he saw a smile more precious than playing the biggest stadium in the world.
“... Does she turn into a bigger jerk than she is now?” Laney asked, still smiling but still not quite making eye contact with him.
“Hard to say,” Corey shrugged. “She just locks herself up in her room all day. Mina is the only one she lets in. Me or Dad try to talk to her and she’ll bite our heads off. Well, my head anyway. She’d never do that to Dad.”
“Doesn’t sound any different than regular Trina,” Laney commented snidely.
The pair continued to joke and laugh all the way to Laney’s house. For the first time in hours, she seemed like her usual self, and that was all Corey wanted.
When they reached the front porch, Laney stood there twiddling her fingers. She still didn’t face him. “Um…” she started. “…thanks.”
Corey’s face lit up with a grin. “No prob, guy!” he cheered as he gave her a friendly pat on the back.
She tugged at the sweatshirt around her waist. “Uh, do you want this back?”
He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Nah, it’s cool. I don’t wear it much, so you can keep it. Hey, you should try wearing it normally some time. It’s really comfy,” he suggested.
Laney gave a little chuckle. “Because old, ratty stuff is comfy?” she guessed.
“Yep, like a grandpa!” He threw his arms around her in a tight squeeze. But he paused. “You okay?” he whispered.
“... it hurts... a little,” she finally replied.
A final pat on the back and he let go. “Well, I’ll let you go now. You probably want to go lie down for a while,” he said.
“Yeah,” Laney agreed and started up the steps to the door.
Just as Corey turned to leave, he heard her speak again. “Thanks again, Core.”
He looked at her and smiled.
“Any time, Lanes.”