Lovestruck (EDITING)

63: Phase One

"What's the plan?"

Shana gives me a boost over the back gate when we reach her dad's ridiculously large house, before gracefully climbing over on her own.

"The plan is to stop my father from making the second biggest mistake of his life." She brushes her hands on her yoga pants and begins to walk towards the back entrance of the mansion. "The first being letting my mom go."

"Right, but how are we supposed to do all of that tonight?" I follow Shana past the large swimming pool and almost trip over the garden hose in the dark, stopping myself by grabbing hold of her arm.

"Tonight? Oh, no. Tonight is just phase one." Shana turns to face me, helping me up.

"Phase one?" I frown.

Shana is notorious for the elaborate plans she has always managed to conjure against her dad's various girlfriends. She's kind of a genius in that area. An evil genius. From pranks as simple as Nair for shampoo or testosterone for pain killers, to her most recent masterpiece resulting in 'Nancy #2' having to leave the country for unknown reasons, Shana has single handedly destroyed every romantic relationship her father has had since her mother left. I mean, I may have participated here and there, but Shana has always been the brains. When it comes to sabotage, at least.

"We need to get rid of that ring. Like, hide it or something. Where no one will find it." Shana waltzes over to a large plant pot and lifts it to retrieve a key. "That will buy us some time, at least."

I simply nod my head, unable to argue with the genius, as she quietly unlocks the glass side door and we enter the kitchen like ninjas. I roll my eyes when the door doesn't creak a single bit, closing smoothly without a sound. Of course the expensive, well-oiled door hinges don't squeak. I bet the custom-designed stairs are silent and creak-free too.

Shana points through the kitchen towards the entrance hallway where various coats are hanging, before tip-toeing towards them. I watch her, amused, as she stealthily reaches into the pocket of the closest large brown coat and pulls out a small, royal blue box. Her eyes light up with joy - or madness - when she opens it, and I catch a sparkle of the ring as she takes it from its box, returning the case to its original place in the coat pocket and dancing back over to me. She holds the ring out for me to take a look and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at the ridiculous piece of jewelry. It's silver, with a thick band covered in small diamonds and a giant square jewel attached. It's the kind of ring that is designed to look expensive rather than elegant. The kind of ring that only extreme gold diggers and Kim Kardashian could receive. It baffles me how Shana is even managing to hold the stupidly large rock up to me with her thin arms.

"Hey, where are you going?" I frown as Shana opens the side door again to go back outside.

"To hide it." She giggles maniacally and rushes out the door as I hurry out after her.

"We're hiding it outside? Shouldn't you put it in its box? It looks like your dad spent your college tuition on it, Shana." I try to persuade her, following her past the pool once again.

"No." She turns around to face me, a serious expression on her face, and I stop dead in my tracks. "We leave the box in his pocket. Less noticeable. My dad isn't the type to gaze at a ring all day. Chances are, he won't even open that box until he plans on using it. So, we leave the box. And no, we're not hiding it outside."

I shake my head, even more confused than before, as I watch her climb over the gate and stop to wait for me on the other side. She really is crazy.

"What are you waiting for?" Shana calls to me over the fence and I immediately climb over to meet her.

"I don't understand where we're going. If we're not hiding it outside..." I pause, waiting for an answer.

"We're hiding it at your place, duh." She speeds up her pace, leaving me in the dust.

Of course we are.

***

I'm not sure how to feel about our little adventure tonight, but I know that Shana and I will always be friends, despite our differences. We just get each other, I guess. We grew up together. We know everything about each other. Although our personalities sometimes clash epically, we always find our way back to one another. Sometimes she can be poison to me, but just as often she's the antidote.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. Shana spent another hour searching my bedroom for the perfect hiding place - although I doubt it's possible to conceal a rock that big in a room this small - before she finally headed back home. I don't know how she's able to sleep under the same roof as her dad whilst hiding so many secrets from him. She must be really good at acting normal, or perhaps he's too preoccupied to notice. I try to ignore my overwhelming certainty that the latter is true and decide think about other things.

I think about home. Not the house we live in or the town where we grew up, but the idea of home, in its simplest form. The things we inevitably return to at the end of the day. The things that make us feel most like ourselves. The places we feel most comfortable. The people we feel most loved by. I used to believe I could just be my own home. I thought I could lock that feeling of safety within my chest and throw away the keys without having to let anyone else in. I thought I could carry it with me. And maybe that was my biggest flaw. Maybe I just can't do it all on my own.

The thing is, when every home you ever build for yourself is torn apart by natural disasters, you stop having the resources to rebuild. I can't afford to build another home. It takes way too much trust. Trust that I ran out of many hurricanes ago. And so I continue to live alone, as far away from others as possible. You see, you can't win in this world. You become too attached to people and you're bound to have your heart broken. You distance yourself from people and you're not really living at all. Die of heartbreak or die of loneliness.

Take your pick.

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Thanks for reading :)) things got a little deep but that's the way I like it (not even an innuendo I swear)

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