Never Normal Who: Kenzie and Lance Where: Their house When: Late Warnings: Language
Lance was definitely stumbling as he made his way up to the house, drunk on the moonshine in his hand that he’d been sipping on since he’d left Zania and her club. Part of him was wondering if he should have felt bad about what happened. The part where she’d said pretty explicitly that she didn’t do that sort of thing, then he’d gone and done it with her. He was also a little worried she’d want to be his girlfriend. He didn’t do girlfriends. Trainwrecks didn’t do girlfriends. Stumbling up the first few stairs he grabbed the railing just in time to spin himself and land on his butt on the top step, laying back on the porch itself, all the while managing not to spill a drop out of the open jar. Sign of a talented drunk.
His nose caught a sweeter smell in the air, head lolling to one side to see his cousin there. “Tell me that’s what I think it is.”
Kenzie was halfway to high, sitting on the porch, her back up against the door and her legs stretched out in front of her. She had on her frayed jean skirt as a simple black tshirt, her hair a tangled mess as she had tugged her hair bands out earlier and simply shook her head before lighting up some of the weed she had bought off of Skylar.
The joint was nearly gone when she spotted her cousin walking home. If one could call that walking. She giggled silently, her chest heaving with amusement until he landed on his butt, then his back on the porch.
Exhaling a steady stream of smoke, Kenzie grinned broadly. "It is what you think it is. What do you have?"
Lance held out his free hand. He and his cousin had a propensity for anything bad for them, though likely for different reasons. “Hook me up and I will hook you up.” He raised the jar so she could see it. “The good shit. Like we used to get out of Billy’s bathtub, but better.”
"Oh yeah?" Her interest piqued, Kenzie leaned forward an inch or two, as if she could magically see in Lance's cup in the dark from where she sat. "Okay. But it better be good, 'cause I had to spend money on this." She held the remainder of the joint out before rubbing under her eye. "Where'd you get moonshine?"
Lance took the joint and handed the jar over. “Don’t chug it. You don’t have to.” He took a drag off the joint, closing his eyes as he did so. It wasn’t until he exhaled that he answered her question. “Girl I fucked. She’s opening a club.”
Kenzie took the jar and sniffed it once before taking a sip. It was strong, but not unbearably so. She scooted over to sit closer to Lance, her legs crossed as she leaned over and pretend to suck in the smoke he had exhaled. Well, maybe she didn't really pretend. Arching a brow, she looked down at her cousin. "What? You fucked someone? What the hell? No fair." And then she pouted, completely missing the irony of her jealousy. She had fucked a couple people already since coming into the dome, but none had been because she wanted to.
“You’re the one that decided to make that your job,” Lance said, grinning up at her. It was nice being around her. Grounding. He was more himself than anyone else, even if it wasn’t completely himself. He took another hit off the joint, swallowing the smoke until he was coughing it out again. “Yeah, this pixie of a redhead. She was fun. Still deciding if I should feel bad about it.”
“That’s different. Fucking for a job isn’t really fucking for fun,” she pointed out, taking another sip of the alcohol as her head spun deliciously. “I haven’t gotten to fuck for fun since I got here. Mannix went all soft and fluffy ‘cause of some girl. And there’s this other guy, but I don’t think it’s anything big. That’s just kisses.” Kenzie licked her lips and had to resist swiping her joint back from him. “Why would you feel bad about having sex?”
"So I made the right choice in not joining you?" Lance said with a grin. His motivations were off anyway. He just wanted to be closer to someone in particular. It was best to stay away. "Mannix? Soft and fluffy? Do we need to put him down?" He smirked a little, but that did seem out of character. "Who's the other guy?" He took another hit off the joint then shrugged. "Because a she doesn't fuck strangers. She the type that puts the emotional backing to it. It means something. It's intimate. And...she tried to keep up with me drinking." Which was always stupid. He a class-A drinker. Without a doubt.
Kenzie shrugged, already feeling the effects of the moonshine on top of the weed. “I’m the one makin’ all the money, so I don’t know.” She climbed to her feet, swayed a bit and then leaned against the porch railing, still swaying to an unheard melody in her head. “I don’t know ‘bout Mannix. Don’t really care, to be honest. But people change in this place. Skylar’s the other guy. He sold me that.” Kenzie motioned to the joint Lance was finishing off. “He’s a good kisser. Might be fun to have sex with him. For free,” she added with a grin. “And any girl who says she don’t fuck strangers then fucks a stranger is a damn liar. Maybe she just said it to get you all hot and wanting her.”
Lance reached into a pocket with his free and and produced his haul from the crowd at the festival. "I'm not useless," he said. "Skylar who sells weed. I like this guy already, good kisser or not." He propped himself up more. "I thought you liked Mannix. Though, I'm not sure I like the idea of this place changing me. I'm pretty fine as is you know." He wasn't about to settle down, though he did feel safer here. He wasn't going to say that though. "Maybe. Or maybe she just didn't know what she really wanted."
“I like Mannix fine… I just liked Mannix more before he became pussy whipped,” Kenzie explained, feeling perfectly lovely. She drank some more and glanced around the dark street, wishing she were outside the dome again, where she was happy. Happy enough, anyway. “Everyone here is… what’stheword,” she said, slurring her speech slightly. “Judgmental. Except maybe Clementine. She doesn’t seem to care what I’m like, or what I liked to do. I bet if Skylar found out I got money for fucking people, he’d never come ‘round again.” Kenzie stumbled over to sit down on the step by Lance, flopping down hard on her butt. “But you should talk to your girl and make sure she’s not, gonna… like stalk you.”
Lance nodded. “Men are stupid,” he said, though he meant it more than one way. “They are aren’t they? Don’t they get it? The world isn’t what it was. All that bullshit shouldn’t matter.” He grinned as she sat with him nudging her knee with his. “I wonder if she would. I might look into that.”
“Bullshit is bullshit,” Kenzie said before she began to giggle, as if she might have just told an incredibly funny joke. “I bet you’d wanna get stalked, huh? Having a pretty girl follow you around, and you can just sigh and roll your eyes and have sex with her whenever you want.”
“How does that sound like a bad thing?” Lance said, because the stalker bit when she put it like that was awesome. How could that be bad.
“I never said it was bad,” she pointed out, reaching over to poke him in the side. “Better to be stalked than… than being then stalker? Something.” Kenzie shook her head and rubbed at her eye. “I haven’t found anyone I would stalk yet.”
Lance twitched a little when she poked him, but not as much than if he’d been sober. “Depends on who you’re stalking and why. Could be fun.” He looked over at his cousin. “No one?”
She shrugged and rubbed her eye again. Her head was still spinning, despite sitting. It was the best feeling. “Not really. You know it’s easier not to get attached to people, even like that. It never ends well. Ever.”
Lance considered that, then nodded. “You’re the only one I trust.” And he didn’t even trust her with everything. Just most things.
"You're the only one I trust too," Kenzie said, though she wasn't sure how coherent her words were. She lay down on the porch, setting the cup beside her. Then she began to trace her finger over the lines in the wood. "We don't belong here. It's too normal."
“And we have never belonged with normal that’s for sure,” Lance said with a nod. They hadn’t fit into a Hallmark greeting card their whole lives. Why start now?
She laughed a little and rested her palm down on the porch. "Promise you'll never be normal, 'kay?" Kenzie wasn't sure she could handle it if she lost Lance to this place.
Lance laughed to himself. “I don’t think I have a chance of being normal K,” he rolled his eyes towards hers, that darkness, that edge that lingered there and had his whole life was still glinting in them. “So I won’t. Promise.”
“Good.” Neither of them would ever be normal. She knew that, and he knew that, but she still didn’t like the idea of being stuck here very long. What if he fell in love with someone, or liked working a steady job, or living in one place? Kenzie would never like it, and she didn’t want to leave the dome someday without her cousin. She giggled again and reached out to grip his arm, still laying on the porch. “I think you’re drunk.”
Lance didn't seem himself as the type to fall in love and while having a real roof over his head was nice, he assumed he'd get bored. When she grabbed him he laughed. "I think you're stoned."
"Stoned," Kenzie repeated before grinning. "Stoned," she said again, more slowly this time before she began to giggle. "Stoned and drunk. That's us. 'cause what else is there to do in this place? Get stoned and drink and fuck and sleep...nothin' else to do, is there?" Her giggles trailed off. "We should have fun together too."
“There’s never been much else to do,” Lance said, shrugging. This wasn’t a new state for them. Definitely not for him. Her last question had him propping himself up on one elbow. “Fun?”
“Yeah, fun. Like...we should get high,” Kenzie whispered, in case anyone was around to hear something so scandalous. She rolled onto her stomach and rested her cheek on her folded hands. “Or go to your girlfriend’s club! Is it open yet? Will there be dancing? I haven’t been dancing in forever….”
"I think you are high," Lance said with a grin. "Not yet. It's just a room. But there will be dancing. I said no to country music, I'm sure you can guess why." They'd grown up around too many dive honky-tonks. No need to find another. He didn't even comment on the girlfriend comment because it was too laughable to be true.
Kenzie grinned, imagining having to dance to country music. Blech. “I’m not doin’ no two step crap dances, that’s for sure. Hopefully it’s not lame.” She rubbed her forehead against her arms and then pushed herself back up to her knees. It was hard to stay still, apparently. “I think I’m gonna go walk around. I like it when it’s dark. You wanna come with? Or I guess you’d stumble around more than walk.”
Lance shook his head slowly. "Won't be lame. She couldn't do lame." Not with those dreds and curves. As Kenzie sat up he looked at her like she was insane. "No. Staying right here." He'd likely pass out on the porch, but who cared? "Don't get eaten."
“Everyone’s capable of lame,” she countered. Rubbing at her head with the back of her head, Kenzie drew her brows together and looked down at him with an odd expression. “Eaten? What’d you mean?”
"Wolves, zombies, whatever. Everything seems like it wants to bite you." Even cute girls with fangs. The memory filtered through leaving Lance frowning. That wasn't right. She'd had fangs.
“There aren’t any zombies in here,” Kenzie pointed out, as if that should have been obvious. “And haven’t heard any wolves lately.” She grinned and rubbed her eyes again. “Besides, I kinda like being bitten, if it’s the right guy. But I’ll try not to get mauled to death. Who wants to die inside this place?”
"TMI," Lance said, waving her away. "Not a fucking soul. Go. I'll be right here." And he'd likely stay there all night.
Laughing, Kenzie reached over to tousle his hair playfully. “There’s no such thing as TMI between us, remember? I’ll come back.” She turned and took a step down to the yard, only stumbling slightly. “I hope, anyway. If I get eaten, you can have the rest of my pot,” she called over her shoulder as she made her way toward the street.
"Sounds fair," Lance called out, only barely watching her before closing his eyes and just laying there. This was more than enough.