Keith apparently had other ideas. "Connor?" he called out quietly while he rapped on the door with his knuckles. "It's Lauralynn."

"Uh calla back latuh," Connor mumbled into his pillow.

"Lauralynn? Yeah, I did. He said he'd call you back later. Hey, don't... that's what he said! He's asleep. Okay, mostly asleep. I tried already! Fine, whatever." Connor heard a blip as Keith hung up the phone, and then Keith spoke again. "Hey! Hey, Connor, I don't know if you're still awake or what, but if you are, you should know that Lauralynn's on her way over."

"Shit!" Connor exclaimed as he bolted out of bed. Keith jumped back, startled, but Connor had no time to care. Whatever Lauralynn was on the rampage about now, he didn't want to have to deal with it while still semiconscious. And it had to be something big. No decent person woke up somebody at the ungodly hour of... Connor rubbed his eyes and blinked at his alarm clock... at the ungodly hour of 10:45 AM unless something serious was eating at them. Connor had a feeling that he didn't want to hear what this one was, but since he had no choice, he really wanted to face this latest crisis with a fully working mind.

He found some clean clothes, took a quick dip in the shower, swallowed a bowlful of bran flakes (although he really wanted something toasted, like waffles), and felt sufficiently clear-headed by the time the doorbell rang. Keith buzzed her in.

"I'm going to the post office," he informed Connor as he did so. "Unless... I mean... you don't want me to stick around, do you?"

"Nah, I can handle her myself," Connor said with more confidence than he felt.

"Are you going to do it today?"

"I'm thinking ab--"

Connor was interrupted by a sudden bang as the door whipped open and hit the wall, narrowly missing poor, diminutive Keith. Lauralynn, her eyes narrowed in a fiery glare, marched into the room and gave Connor a shove that would have been comically ineffective if he'd been expecting it. "You creep!" she roared. "You filthy, back-stabbing, manipulative creep!"

Connor stumbled two steps backwards and caught his balance. "What?" he asked innocently.

"How long have you been talking about me behind my back?!"

"Huh? Now wait a minute..."

"DON'T you DARE deny it!" Lauralynn shrieked. "How STUPID do you think I am? It's bad enough you've been stringing me along, but did you really think you could tell everyone without me finding out?!"

Connor tried to look helplessly at Keith, but discovered that Keith had slipped out without being noticed. Damn, he was in this by himself... if only he knew what was going on.

"Finding out what?" he asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, you rat!!" Lauralynn punctuated her rage with several swings at his chest and upper arms, a lot more forcefully than Connor had ever suspected she could hit. He resisted grabbing her arms and instead settled for blocking the blows as well as he could. "You loose-lipped, half-witted, big hulking oaf!"

"Hey!" Connor objected, genuinely hurt.

Lauralynn stepped back, an extra touch of smugness in her expression indicating how pleased she was to have fazed him. "You've always played like you were the good guy, all honest and perfect and loyal. You really had me going, Connor, but I'm smarter than that. Now I know you've been walking all over me this whole time, and I'm not going to put up with it anymore."

Funny, Connor thought, he'd thought it was her walking all over him this whole time. But he didn't say so out loud.

"I wish you could have been as honest as you make yourself out to be, and just let me go a long time ago. You know what gets me the most? It was Matt Burch who told me you were done with me. You actually told that little weasel before you told me. Or were you never going to tell me? Were you just going to keep me as your pretty trophy girlfriend until somebody better came along?"

"I..." Connor struggled to find the right response. "It's not like that, Laur. It's not like that at all. I do care about you, and..."

"You're still denying it. Don't play games with me," she warned.

"I'm not! I just didn't want to hurt you."

"Ah." Lauralynn glared at him cynically. "You wanted to dump me but not hurt me. Tell me, how was lying to me for the past few weeks, or months or however long you've been doing it, supposed to accomplish that?"

Connor recalled some advice he'd gotten a while back: when in doubt, take the blame. "Okay, I was wrong. I'm sorry. I screwed up."

"Yeah, you screwed up all right," Lauralynn growled. "You should be in the Guinness Book of World Records for the world's longest screw-up. You don't get off the hook that easy, shrugging it off with just a little, 'I'm sorry.'"

"But I am sorry!" Connor insisted. "I really didn't want to hurt you, Laur. I was just..."

"Stop calling me Laur. Only my friends call me that. Look, just give me my stuff and I'm out of here."

Connor blinked at her, and then scanned the room for her belongings. Several of the CDs in the CD tower were hers, as well as a couple of books he'd never finished reading. He checked the bedroom and kitchen, but that seemed to be all. He was surprised at how few of her things there were to return.

He put the items in an old grocery bag and presented it to her. "So, do I get my Grand Theft Auto CD back, and the afghan I let you borrow?" he asked humbly.

"Yeah, sure, you can have your stupid game and your stupid afghan," she said dismissively, making Connor wonder whether she really intended to return them. "And I'd appreciate it if you stopped blabbing shit about me all over campus. I'm not going to sit around and let you ruin my life."

"I won't," Connor promised. He hadn't in the first place.

She gave him a disgusted look. "I shouldn't get my hopes up. You didn't respect me while we were together; why should I expect you to start after we break up? Look, just do whatever you want, but try to learn some of that maturity you're always going on about."

She slung the grocery bag over her shoulder and headed down the stairs. Connor watched her go, and when he heard the outer door slam, he shut the apartment door. He stood in the middle of the living room for a while, letting the solemn silence envelop him.

Then he jumped up, punched the air, and whooped. "I'm free! Yes!" he shouted to no one in particular. This deserved a celebration. He decided on lunch at the Mesa Grille... all by himself.