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Laney
“It’s over, Houseman. Your Grand Man Band Gesture is officially our last post.”
“You’re killing the page?”
“Nope. Just passin’ the torch. Our legacy will live on, baby, but I’m done with it.”
“Why am I suddenly afraid? Who exactly are we passing our torch to?”
“Let’s just say I found someone more than capable of taking over. She’s got the personality for the job.”
“Laney?”
“She’s, uh, well-qualified. Over-qualified if you ask me.”
“Uh huh, and who is she?”
“Don’t get mad.”
“What did you do?”
Laney slowly lifts her phone as a picture of Courtney dressed in her Penn State garb complete with her bedazzled tutu comes into view.
“Are you serious? You gave this woman a hundred and six thousand people to terrorize?”
Studying the picture closely, I see Courtney is lifting a beer, in toast—to herself. The cherry on top is her hashtag.
#somuchbetterthanboysperm #getreadyforepic #youaintseennothingyet #livingmyrealestlifetwopointoh #itson #staytuned #wearepennstate
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Nope. She was all too happy to take it on, and I was all too ready to let it go.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“When our posts stopped, I was made to feel like I owed everyone an explanation, and it wasn’t their business. They just knew. That’s why I said screw it and posted that I missed you. Some of the comments they made really hurt. But some of the support was overwhelming too. They totally fell for you.”
“They fell for us. And I’m sorry that hurt you too.”
“Well, you’re a stupid man.”
He scowls.
“See how that can cut both ways, like crazy does for me?”
“Yes,” he says dryly. “I like it much better when you say it naked on top of me in the middle of a tornado.”
“Me too, minus the tornado.”
He leans in on a whisper. “We should run practice drills often, just in case.”
“Mmm, we can go run one now, if you like.”
“First things first. I have a date to make up to y
ou.”
“Right,” I say as he threads our fingers and kisses the back of my hand.
