“That sounds fun, but you’d hate being me.”
“What? Never. You’re totally fun. And nothing about you is boring. You read fifty books a week, you eat healthy, you stare at the stars every night—”
“Stop mocking me,” I warned with a shake of my head and a small laugh. “You wouldn’t make it one day being me.”
“You’re probably right.” She grinned. “But if we’d switch for just a day, I’d definitely try my luck with Buster Ace. I’d let him fuck me. Just once, you know? Just to be able to say that I had sex with an actual porn star.”
“Fair enough,” I said under my breath. “Pass me the plates.”
We ate breakfast slowly, talking about random things, and when the plates were empty, I stood to rinse them in the sink, and that’s when my phone started buzzing on the counter.
I picked it up and groaned. “It’s my mom.”
Holland perked up. “Ooh. This will be fun. Put her on speaker.”
I shook my head, but when I answered, I decided Holland was allowed an insight into how crazy my mom was. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey.” Her voice was cheerful as always, and it put an immediate frown on my face. “How are you?”
I knew she didn’t really care about how I was doing. As soon as I answered, she’d ask about Callan.
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, good. Listen, I heard Callan is working on a new movie. Has he done the casting yet?”
My eyes flicked to Holland, who was staring at me wide-eyed and in disbelief.
I sighed. “Mom, you should ask him that yourself. I’m not his assistant.”
“But you’re there every day. I know you know what’s going on. Come on, tell me, Lana.”
My brows furrowed even more, and my gut twisted when I realized that she was slurring her words. Not too much, but enough to notice. “It’s ten in the morning,” I said, my voice tight. “You’re drunk.”
“Oh, please, don’t start with that shit, Lana. Where’s Callan?”
“I don’t know,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Holland’s face tightened. She didn’t look pleased with how my mother was talking to me. “Hang up,” she mouthed.
I wanted to, but then my mother spoke again. “You’re both under the same roof. You should know what he’s up to.”
“I don’t care about what he’s up to, Mom. I never have.”
“You’re a liar. I didn’t raise a liar—”
“You didn’t raise me in the first place.” My words hung heavy between us, and while I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, I definitely hurt mine with the truth.
“You’re a little brat, you know that? I did so much for you. I gave everything to give you a good life, and now look where you are, and where I am!”
Great, now she was blaming me for her problems. I was at a loss for words, and my chest felt like it was being stabbed with a large knife.
“You live in a huge house and get everything for free, and you have the audacity to tell me that I didn’t raise you? You’re a witch, Lana. A selfish, arrogant witch. Now get Callan on the phone so I can tell him just how disrespectful you are. He needs to punish you for talking to me like that.”
“Lana, hang up,” Holland told me. I had never seen my best friend look so angry.
My eyes watered, and I gripped my phone tighter. “He’s not here.” My voice was shaky, and so was my hand when I lowered the phone to hang up.
Holland stood immediately and came to hug me, holding me while I let my emotions settle.
