The Oblivious Mode
Chapter 11

"Guess who?"

It was way too early in the morning for me to be playing a guessing game with someone on the fucking telephone. There were two things I knew: (1) It was a girl and (2) I didn't care who it was, I just wanted to go back to bed. I had briefly glanced at my blinking clock and it said it was only 6:30 in the morning. Who calls this early?

"I don't care."

I figured to be blunt would be a nice way of getting her to get off the phone so that I might catch a few zzz's before having to get on with the regular workday. I could have just hung up, but that would be unforgivably impolite. This frank talk wasn't much better. But to my sleepy logic it made sense.

"Rory, I'm hurt, really hurt."

This didn't sound like any of my customers. Who the hell was this?

"You don't remember my voice?"

It couldn't be… could it? I haven't heard from her in nearly five years. The first year of college we had kept touch, but the different routes we had taken had led to differentiating us until we no longer had the same relationship. It didn't help either that we had met new people either. The summer after was when we'd permanently disconnected. But there was no one else that I knew that would say something like that. No one except her. "Lane?"

"You got it."

It was Lane. The Lane I haven't seen in the past year. The Lane I hadn't heard from in nearly that long. Lane, who at one point had known me as well as Logan. The Lane who was now touring with her band, doing the things she had dreamt of since forever.

"Lane?"

"Rory?"

"How did you get my bloody number?"

She laughed. Her sweet and musical laugh. "I looked it up."

"It's not listed." It couldn't be. It was a mobile number. It wasn't listed in the traditional directories.

"I asked around."

"Who?" I had to ask. Who had she kept in contact with all these years who would have known my number? "Who did you ask?"

"I know one of Logan's friends."

She knew one of Logan's friends? Who? I couldn't think of anyone from Logan's crowd that would mix with a drummer from a band, even a succeeding band.

"Who?"

"Finn."

Duh, of course Rory! It had to be him.

"He told me that he never sees you anymore. It seems when Logan isn't monopolizing your time, you're busy working. I suppose it's your novel right? How's it going?"

Lane still knew me well.

"Yes."

"What's it about?"

A fictionalized retelling of my life. But I didn't want to tell her that. I decided the duo L's would suffice. "Life and love."

"If it's based on your experiences," she murmured, "it would be well worth a reading."

How did she still know me so effortlessly? Was I that easy to know?

"Rory…"

"Yes, Lane?"

"Can you meet me for lunch?"

This was the reason that she'd called at 6:30 in the morning? So that I could meet her for lunch? Why couldn't she have called the night before? It was like Lane to make her plans last minute like it was mine to come late to everything unless I was being propelled to an event by Logan for punctuality's sake. "I have to work Lane." It was a valid excuse. A very good one too. I did have to work.

"If I have to pay for the time, I will."

"Why?"

"Because I want to talk to you."

"All right," I said. I could never resist her.

"When?"

"Does 1 sound okay?"

"I'll be there," I answered.

"Don't be late."

Yes, she definitely knew me.

-

"Who called?" Logan was asking the question like how my mother would have asked it. Both of them were the inquisitive want-to-know-who-I-was-talking-to type. Usually he didn't ask anymore, but he knew for a fact from my constant complaining that Marty hadn't called me back and we both knew that only Marty was crazy enough to try calling this early in the morning.

"It wasn't Marty," I answered.

I knew that pricked his curiosity. "Who then?"

I didn't think I could get him to play a guessing game. "Lane."

"Lane?" he murmured. "The Lane?"

"Yes."

He gulped down his coffee. "Interesting."

He took the news well. He had never really got to know Lane. Both of them had never been more than friendly acquaintances. Though I suppose I wanted him to react in a more oh fashion than he was doing. I sighed, when did I turn into an attention whore?

"What?" he asked irritatingly. "Do I have two heads or something?"

Wooh. Now that was more like it. I smiled a bit. Now that was the exact tone he should have had when I told him that it was Lane. "Rory," he snapped. "What is it?" But wait, something was wrong with this. He was not using the tone in response to Lane but to what… what me? Wooh. That was weird.

"Uh…"

"Uh, what?"

"Uh… you've got no reaction."

He blinked. "To what?"

"Lane."

"Oh," he murmured. "What do you want me to do? I never knew her that well. What am I suppose to say?'

I blinked. "How do you know that I'm going to see her?"

He pointed to his ears. I was still confused. What did his ears have to do with

anything? "I happened to overhear part of your conversation with Lane," he explained with a sigh of exasperation. I stared at him blankly. "You asked her where she wanted to meet you." Oh, I forgot about that. He grinned ruefully. "You've got an awful memory."

I pursed my lips and muttered defensively, "I do not!" He raised a challenging eyebrow. "I remember what I'm writing!"

"Yeah, yeah." He messed my hair up. "If you don't, who will?"

I scowled. "Just because I don't remember what I said…"

"A few minutes ago," he added.

"Doesn't mean I have an awful memory!" I exclaimed, even though as I said it--- I had to admit that it sounded like a weak, weak argument.

"No?"

I smiled sheepishly. "No."

He rolled his eyes. "I still," he began, changing back to the topic we had been discussing before I'd gotten off topic, "don't understand why you think I should have a reaction to Lane."

"I don't know."

"So there," he retorted with a smirk.

Why does he always get the last word in?

"Would you like to come?" I asked to ask something and to say something.

"With you?"

I nodded.

"To meet Lane?"

I nodded again.

He gave me a slow and easy smile. "No."

I rolled my eyes. Logan was so Logan. He could be utterly charming to everyone but me it seemed. Then again, did I want him to turn that suave personality on me that melted the hearts of hundreds of eligibles in NYC? I think not. So I guess I should thank him.

Thank you, Logan.

-

A/N: I realize this is really short, and I'm sorry but at least I updated.