comfort {complete}

29

"Girls are the worst."

Lois shrugs and fishes her hand into my pile of French fries. She and I are sitting on one side of a booth in the corner of McDonald's, and Noah is sitting across from us, dipping his fries in a milkshake and complaining like a baby.

"Aw, why?" Lois asks, pouting sarcastically. "Did she— "

"Ugh, please don't finish that sentence," I say, wrinkling my nose. "I don't know what you're gonna say, but I don't really want to."

She gasps dramatically at me as Noah places his hands on the table and says, "I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of dinner, and when I came back, she— "

"Told you she was impregnated by The Force and she had to go into hiding to protect herself and the baby?" I suggest.

"Ooh, good one, but I bet she was taking selfies. Like, really unclassy selfies, too," Lois adds. 

"I hate you both," Noah tells us, voice dry. "So much."

I shrug and sip my sweet tea. He continues, "She was making out with the waitress, okay? Goddamn."

"Wait, waitress, like, girl?"

"Yes, waitress— "

"You're dating a lesbian?" I say, eyes widening as I lean forward.

"Not anymore."

Lois snorts a laugh and leans into me. She laughs until Noah throws one of his fries at her, and then a little bit after that. Noah looks at me and furrows his eyebrows.

"You okay?" he asks, tilting his head.

"Yeah," I assure him, and I laugh to drive the point home.

a/n: ughhh.