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"You try wearing stilettos for hours. Of course I carry around a pair of flip-flops. They've saved me more times than I can count, and now, they're saving you. So, you're welcome."
"Thank you," I say, apology in my tone. I slide my feet into them and am grateful for the gargantuan purse Nina lugs around with her everywhere.
We step out of Stella's and start walking across the parking lot.
"My place?" I confirm.
The girls nod, knowing I'm within walking distance. The walk isn't nearly as shady as a bus ride at two o'clock in the morning.
Tori hands me my leather jacket, and I happily put it on. "Thanks."
"Parker says we're done," Nina announces.
I try to read the emotion behind the declaration but can't. At least Parker told me the truth.
"Are you okay with this?" I ask delicately.
She shrugs indifferently. "You know he doesn't mean it. But whatever. He's kind of a slut, and he definitely doesn't respect me. So he can go to hell."
I laugh.
"What did Joey do?" Tori asks. "He a slut too?"
"I don't know," I tell them, "but he is a liar."
Tori sighs, shaking her head. "So no more Harrisons." She pauses and bites her lip. "Except ... I'm going out with Lincoln again ... so you may have to tolerate Joey. But I'll try to make sure it's from a distance."
I study her curiously. "You're serious about Lincoln? You really like him?"
A girlish smile emerges. "He's so nice. And his body? Un-be-lievable."
"At least one of us ended up with a good one," Nina says. We round the corner and start down my street. "I think we need to visit the 'party in a bag.' I remember seeing a joint in there, and we could definitely use it."
"Definitely," I agree adamantly, searching my pockets. I pull out the switchblade, wishing I'd had it earlier in the stairwell with Vic. And then I pat the inside pocket and reach for the small plastic bag. Before I can put the switchblade back in my pocket, a car pulls up beside us.
"Lana Peri?" a deep booming voice confirms.
Instinctively, Nina rolls her hand beneath mine, removing the knife from it and slipping it in her purse. A beam of light blinds me just as I drop the bag of drugs to the ground and step on them.
"What was that?" a female voice asks. A car door shuts.
I raise my hands in the air to show that they're empty, familiar with the routine.
"Are you Lana Peri?" the guy asks again.
"Yes," I tell him, shielding my eyes from the flashlight.
"Take a step this way."
With a sigh, I do.
The female officer snaps a pair of rubber gloves over her hands and picks up the plastic bag. "Looks like you've been having an eventful night, Lana."
"Step behind the vehicle," the male officer instructs.
"Are you ladies with her?" the female asks Nina and T
ori.
