“Hi.”

Too friendly.

I frowned at my reflection and tried saying it again with less cheer.

“Hello.”

Too casual…how about…

“Oh, hey!”

I rolled my eyes at myself.  Yeah, that really sounded like it wasn’t practiced.  Not.

Maybe I could—

“So, hi!”

No.

Think flirty Lana-flirty!

“So, like, hi!”

Alright, nevermind.  I obviously wasn’t quite cut out for the sorority flirtation sound. 

“Hey…”

And not the breathy sound either.

Frustrated, I grasped my hair between my fingers.  Maybe I should just forget speaking altogether.  I was obviously getting nowhere.  But could I do something else?  I stared at my reflection solidly for a moment.  Maybe…

Maybe my hair was too…brown? 

I don’t remember the last time I saw Nick with someone that wasn’t platinum blonde, and that wasn’t sporting their natural hair color.

Fingering my brown locks, I lifted it up and against the back of my scalp, letting small tendrils fall against my face and questioned the shade. 

Maybe if I went lighter?

Then again… Like that would help any.

My hair could be blue and I wouldn’t even make a small bleep on his radar screen.  Blonde.  Brunette.  Redhead.  He wouldn’t look twice, I was almost positive.  There had to be something else I hadn’t tried yet…

Yeah, right! 

I fell flat, face down on my bed, and heaved a huge sigh.

Who was I kidding?  I’d practically tried everything!

Rising up on an elbow, my free arm flailed downwards towards my floor in search of the magazine I had just discarded.  I could have sworn there were new tips in that Cosmopolitan Hannah lent me…

“Lana!”

I stopped my search momentarily and lifted my head.

“Yeah, mom?”  I answered absently. 

I heard some footsteps down the hall, before my bedroom door opened and my mother’s head popped around the corner, the rest of her body following as she fastened a bracelet around her wrist.  “Sweetie, would you do me a favor and sort out the groceries?  I was supposed to meet your Aunt Janet at Bailey’s five minutes ago-” 

I plopped my head back down onto my pillows.   “Sure, mom,” I replied indifferently.

My mom walked further into the room, situating herself at the edge of my bed.  “You feeling sick?” she questioned, a hand on my forehead. 

“No.”

“Hmm…” She moved her palm and brushed aside my hair.  “Are you going to the Carter’s later with Brent?” 

Shit.  I’d completely forgotten that was tonight!  I didn’t have anything to wear and...

“I don’t think so,” I immediately disagreed.

“Why not?  You used to like hanging out with them,” she reminded me. 

“I did not!”

Chuckling my mom smiled at me. 

“Mom!” I whined.

“What?  I remember you three playing all the time,” she protested.  “You were as close to Nick as Brent was.”

Blowing the hair out of my face, I sat back on my knees.  “I was not!” I vehemently protested.  “Remember when he and Brent put a snake in my bed when I was eleven!” I pointed out.

“They were young, and didn’t know any better.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “Like, that’s an excuse?”

“Be nice Lana,” she remarked astutely.  “You could at least talk to Nick.  You’ve hardly said a word to him since he got back.”  She kissed my forehead and stood up.  “If I didn’t know you any better I’d think you were ignoring him.” 

Ugh!  Like I didn’t know that!  I'd never admit that- but still...

“I am not.”

My mom eyed me condescendingly.

“I’m not,” I repeated.

Shaking her head, my mother moved away from me and headed towards the door.   “Leave the chicken out to defrost.  And remind your brother when he gets back that he promised to drop off that letter for your dad.  And Lana-” My mom paused in the doorway.  “Don’t stay cooped up in your room all day.  It’s unhealthy, and besides its summer.”

“Yes, mom,” I obliged, but as that door closed behind her, I flopped back down on my bed with a huff.

Dang it all!  Why did I get the feeling that I was so going to need that Cosmopolitan magazine?

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