With a heavy sigh, Lana climbed out of bed and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a banana, a glass of orange juice, and a blueberry muffin. She chewed as she paced the room. Her faithful dog, Patrick, lay at her feet, watching her go back and forth and back and forth. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She unlocked it; read the texts.
Sanjit: "Hey, good morning. How'd you sleep?"
Quinn: "Good morning beautiful(:"
Lana sighed again and looked at Patrick. He sighed in return. She nodded at him. "Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'."
The thing was, Lana still did like Sanjit. Sanjit was still the kind-hearted, dorky kid who could make her laugh whenever she needed it. But truth be told, the distance of him living in Malibu, his parents being multi-millionaires, and just the simple fact that now the FAYZ had ended, she no longer felt attached to him. She no longer felt the need to have someone in the Cliff Top with her, handing her cigarettes and helping to keep her sane. And what was more, Sanjit no longer needed her. He had his money and his fancy house with his rich parents.
Lana had a crazed mom and a careless dad. They still treated her with guarded reserve and a tight leash. They still didn't trust her and they sure as hell didn't sympathize with her. And she had a dog. She still had Patrick. She always had Patrick.
But Quinn. Ever since leaving the FAYZ, he had grown. She could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he talked to people, and in the gleam in his eye. He was no longer the fool who bounced from side to side. He was a good guy who knew what he wanted when he wanted. So, during their months of legal fighting and hours of interviews, he had taken her to lunch a few times and when she had to return to Vegas and he to L.A. with Sam and the gang, they exchanged numbers. And they had been talking ever since. Flirting, spending countless hours deep into the night talking about their favorite foods, games, etc.; they had once spent a whole night talking on the phone that before she knew it, Lana could see the sun rising behind her curtains. Quinn had a way of making her forget. But, he also had a way of making her remember everything too.
She texted back. To Sanjit, she said: "Same old. Morning to u." To Quinn, she wrote: "Good morning, Quinn. What's up?"
And thus began her day.
Lana spent a lot of time doing nothing. Her phone buzzed. Quinn: "Nothing, just got back from surfing with Sam. Waves were a bit choppy. I was also kinda distracted so..." She replied with a question mark. Quinn knew that she was asking him to explain. Sanjit always took a lot longer to reply. He was always doing something with his siblings- going to Disney Land or working with a personal trainer or swimming in their personal cove. Rich kids.
"C'mon Patrick." She whistled for her dog to follow her and she took him outside. She let him do his business and chewed her muffin thoughtfully. Her stomach grumbled thankfully.
Lana looked good, better than any of the Perdido kids had ever seen her. She had curves- nice ones- and her hair was healthy and sleek. Currently, she had it braided and it hung well past her developed breasts. Her skin was tan and healthy. She was in shape- she ran at least three miles every two days and ate healthy. But she pigged out too, sometimes. She had personally grown addicted to Pocky and Cactus Coolers.
And she still longed for that cancer stick. She longed so bad for it that it sometimes drove her nuts.
Patrick ran around the yard a bit, smelling here, raising a leg there. And her phone went off. Quinn had explained why he was distracted. He had been thinking about her. She told him that was sweet.
Everything was so routine, so bland. She had felt so stagnant for these six months. She enjoyed no longer being capital h Healer, but she missed her friends. Yes, bad ass Healer had friends and yes, she missed them.
She was bored here and she was miserable. She hated it in Vegas. She hated it here as much as she had hated the gaiaphage. It drove her nuts. This place- the normal, everything- drove her nuts.
Which is why, when Quinn teasingly asked for the 700th time "so when are you coming to visit?" She had looked up the next flight, purchased a ticket, and lied- telling him that she wouldn't be coming for a while and that she needed time to get used to the normal.