CH 6: June 18, 2012

“Don't anybody's , Lani, I'm serious.”

“Langston, stop! You're so annoying!” Langston laughed and Lauren giggled.

“I've heard stuff about this industry, kiddo, goes around.”

“Langston,” I dragged his name out, my voice distorting it as I made one of my ‘noises’ near the end. 

I was supposed to be going to my dorm in an hour. 

Everybody was going to drop me off, Lauren, Langston, Eomma and Appa. It was gonna be like one of our final family road trips. Right now, Langston, Lauren, and I were waiting for Eomma and Appa to finish saying their goodbyes; they were dropping me off then going to the airport themselves. 

“I swear, Langston, if Lauren wasn't separating us, I would claw your eyes out.”

“Well, you won't have to have these urges soon. Just wait, another hour and you get your freedom!”

Though I gave Langston a witty reply, my heart sank inside. This was another ridiculous reality about becoming a trainee; no more of my family. 

No more Eomma to ask for help, no more Appa to soothe me, no more Lauren to confide in, no more Langston to guide me. It was me, myself, and I. I swallowed the lump as it formed. I was not about to cry. 

Eomma and Appa entered the car. They strapped their seatbelts in and Appa adjusted his mirror. He locked eyes with me in it. 

“Ready?” I gave a small smile. 

“Ready.”

And so we were off. 

                    ***
This was the first time I had seen Eomma cry since Lauren was born. She didn't even cry in Titanic, or The Notebook even. 

“Always remember who you are! This is not all you have, there is so much more.” She kept spurting emotional stuff like this. 

“God, Eomma, stop crying. I'll start crying if you don't.”

She tried to suffocate her ugly sobs, making them only slightly less ugly. 

Appa rubbed her back as he guided her away, giving me a chance to talk to Lauren. 

“You have to call me, like, everyday,” she said. “I can't do anything without you.” And then she started to choke up. I groaned. 

“Lauren, please,” I began. “We live in the 21st century. Facetime is a thing. We're not gonna lose touch, I promise. I'll tell you about all the hot guys I see.” I hugged her as her tears ceased. 

She drew back, wiping her eyes. 

“I want you to have this,” she stated. A thin silver chain appeared from under her shirt. I recognized it as the crescent moon pendant showed itself. 

“Aw, Laur,” I cooed as she unhooked it from around her neck. The pendant was something I had given her a couple years ago. It had been mine, until I gave it to her before her first play. A seven year old Lauren had been nearly shaking with nervousness. Even at 10 years old, I knew my duty was to calm her down. 

So, I had given her my treasured necklace, the one I had got from a “witch” when we lived in Venezuela. I told her what the witch had told me; it had powers of protection granted by the Wiccan goddess Selene. That the