LANA MASON
"My, this song seriously blows, change it," Jackie says from the backseat, leaning forward so we can hear her better.
"Oh my God," Maya makes a double take at her in the rearview mirror. "Jackie, you can't say that about Beyoncé. You're lucky it's just us here."
I start laughing because Maya is so serious. She takes her love for Beyoncé incredibly seriously, but Jackie doesn't like her music. It's caused a rift in their friendship since the day Maya found out.
"Lana, back me up here," Jackie taps my shoulder in the front seat.
"I'm not getting in the middle of this," I pop a gummy bear in my mouth and stare out the window at the little gift shops and cafes we're passing on my side.
"What do you wanna listen to?" Maya counters. "Hannah Montana?"
"Hannah Montana slaps and you know it!"
Maya and I both start cracking up and it feels good to laugh with them. Jackie has been so busy between traveling for the holidays and working that we haven't been together as a threesome since before Christmas, and I can't express just how excited I was when Maya suggested we go up to her parents' house in Montauk on the beach. Granted, a beach trip in mid-January in New York is less than ideal, but there's something special about going in the winter. It's cozy in a way that a summer beach trip could never be.
"Okay we have to go back to that bar with that giant moose on the wall," Jackie speaks up again. "We need to recreate that picture of Lana praying to it."
"Stop, that scared me," Maya whines, and I almost choke on a pretzel M&M.
"Isn't it that one?" I point at the windshield.
"Yes!" Jackie laughs. "The Cabin."
"Don't say it like that or we won't go," Maya mutters as Jackie reaches over into my lap to steal a few gummy bears.
"You're such a baby, My," I laugh and lovingly pat her cheek, and she panics and asks me when was the last time I washed my hands.
"Not since I licked the gummy worm sugar off my fingers."
"Ew!" She laughs and uses her knuckle to try and wipe my germs away.
After ten more minutes of bickering, we finally make it to the modern-style home. I remember thinking it was massive when we came here the first time and that hasn't changed. Most of the place is made of tinted glass and black wood, and although it seems smaller since it's only one story, it goes deeper toward the water in the back. The beach is quite literally their backyard and every time we come here, I always think that this would be the dream—living on the beach, I mean.
"Wait, this brings back so many memories," Jackie coos as we step down into the living room, lit up by the natural grey light coming from the large square sunroof above us.
"I know," Maya pouts as we all drop our weekend luggage down on the rug. "We really should come here more."
After we pick our rooms and get settled for the weekend, I take it upon myself to make a short list of food we'll need for the weekend. Our plan is to only make breakfast in the house and then eat dinners out so we don't get too much food that we won't be able to finish.
Because Maya can't be bothered to get back in the car, she places the order for delivery and we all grab blankets from the bedrooms to get cozy on the couch while we wait for the snacks to arrive. We only just got here, but I'm already dreading to leave as I rest my head on Jackie's lap so she can play with my hair, and Maya is ranting about some girl on Instagram who copied her makeup look. I love listening to her tangents, honestly.
