Work Text:
After Brad, it takes a long time for Syd to be okay again.
There are therapy sessions and police interviews and countless people asking, 'Are you okay? Are you okay?'
Every time someone asks, she wants to scream. Except for when Dina does, sometimes hanging off her arm and staring down at her with limpid eyes. Other times, her warm breath on Syd's face in the early hours of the morning, Syd reeking of sweat while Dina reeks of her.
She feels bad about making Dina smell like white trash, until she doesn't because at least Dina smells like her.
Not blood. Not Brad. Her.
She's sure that the police will figure it out, that she'll be dragged off to a lab, drugged out of her mind, and lobotomized before she can even scream, but none of that happens.
Instead Stanley saves her from herself twice. First, by literally pulling her from a ledge and then by burning the diary, the only thing linking her to Brad's spontaneous combustion.
"You can't tell Dina," Sydney had hissed, her mouth coppery with blood and tears. "You can't. If you do...I'll...I'll..."
What? Blow his head up too?
She has to cover her mouth so she doesn't puke.
It's stupid. At the time she's sure Dina wants nothing to do with her, she's a fucking murderer after all, but it somehow seems like the most important thing in the world, making sure Dina doesn't know what she almost did.
She can never find out just how pathetic Syd really is.
"I won't," Stanley promises, cupping her face with both hands even though her cheeks are painted with blood.
Brad's blood.
She starts to cry, going blind from the mixture of hot blood and tears. Even in death, Brad is fucking her over.
"I promise I won't, Syd."
He holds her for a long time, hushing her like a baby when her cries turn into panicked wailing.
Fuck, she doesn't think her own Mom has ever soothed her as well as Stan did that night, baby or not.
Still, they never talk about it, which Syd is grateful for. Not when the investigation wraps up or when Stan gets into UCLA in the spring.
Dina gets in a few days later. Syd is sure she won't, so she settles. She gets a shitty job bagging groceries at the local corner store and plans to work there for at least a year until she saves up enough money to follow Dina and Stan to California. At least until her own acceptance letter arrives in a manila envelope a day before August.
Dina squeals and climbs into her lap, pecking her all over. "I told you you'd get in Syd!"
Syd has to dig her nails into her palms for a solid 20 seconds before she can kiss back, loosely wrapping her hands around Dina's waist.
"I mean, it's whatever." Syd shrugs, trying to downplay how red her cheeks are, how her face hurts from smiling.
"It's not whatever!" Dina says, shoving her so hard she almost knocks her over. She's the only person Syd allows close enough to do that. "I know you worked really hard for this."
And Syd had, forcing herself to study for her SATs, staying up late with Dina and Stan to pore over prep books and notes so she wouldn't get stuck in Brownsville while her best friend and girlfriend left her behind.
"Hey," Dina says, grabbing her chin so Syd can see how fierce she looks, "I am so proud of you."
She kisses her and leans forward until Syd falls back with an oomph, Dina's curls forming a halo around them.
Sunlight and warmth are plentiful now that they live in California, but back in cloudy Pennsylvania those days were as good as gold. That's the memory Syd cherishes the most, Dina's sun-warmed body on top of hers and light leaking through the curtain of her hair.
Dina would have been mortified if she knew Syd's eyes were open ("I hate when you do that, it's so creepy - Syd! Syd!") but Syd likes watching Dina when she thinks no one's watching.
She's so different from Syd, so good and proper and clean. So good that it's tantalizing to watch who she becomes when no one is watching. No one except Syd.
That day, Syd sees her and thinks, she looks like an angel.
Today, they live in a shitty bachelor apartment twenty minutes from UCLA.
Stan lives in a house share in Westwood (He'd swung it months before, back when he thought Syd wasn't coming to California. Syd assures him it's okay and tries to hide just how okay she finds it.), Dina serves at a diner near campus, and Syd works at a record shop down the street.
Everything has changed, but the things that matter the most have stayed the same.
Stan, Dina, and that goddamn halo Syd's been seeing since she met her.
It's still there, even when Dina comes home after a long shift and her hair is more bird's nest than halo.
"Ugh," Dina whines as her greeting. She kicks off her flats and shimmies out of her stockings, all so she can drape herself on top of Syd like an oversized cat.
"Uh, bad day?" Syd forces out, strained.
They've been dating for almost a year but she still can't get used to it. The easy intimacy that Dina allows her now that they're together. This morning it was Dina standing in the kitchen in her underwear, all so she could scrub the ketchup stain out of her uniform before work. Last week, it was Dina wearing one of Syd's old tees because the washing machine in their building was broken.
Today it's the soft weight of Dina's breasts pressed against Syd's chest, one of her long legs hitched around her.
Syd can barely look at her body without knocking out the power on their block or destroying her phone. It happens so often Syd eventually just buys a Nokia brick instead of replacing another fucking iPhone. It's not a fashion statement at all but Stan thinks it's very rad.
She thinks she's spent every day since they moved in together digging her nails into freckled skin and biting her lips bloody because God, she wants. The worst part about it all is that she can tell Dina wants it too. She hangs off her shamelessly just like she did with Brad, glossing her lips when they're just hanging around the house and solely wearing dresses now that she can use the weather as an excuse.
And Syd almost wants to give it to her, at least until she blinks and remembers Brad's head going off like a cherry bomb.
That could have been Dina's head, she thinks, That could be Dina's head.
That's usually enough to cool her down. That and some peanut butter.
Even though she knows the risks, Syd feels ashamed sometimes. Like right now.
What kind of girl can't fuck her own girlfriend? A girlfriend that she lives with.
She can't even be a dyke right.
So she supplements the truth with her favourite Porn Hub bits, making sure to tell Stan aggressively and often that her and Dina scissor each other like, all the time. She doesn't think scissoring is a real thing outside of porn, but Stan doesn't need to know that.
"Bad week," Dina sighs, resting her arms on Syd's chest so she can look at her, "Boone has been riding my ass since Monday, trying to make me take more shifts. It's exhausting being around him. And I know we need the money but-"
"Hey, it's fine," Syd cuts her off, running a hand down her back. Dina actually cares about her grades, unlike Syd, but she also cares about keeping food in their fridge because LA isn't cheap. "He can go fuck himself, we don't need the money that bad."
Syd barely gets 10 hours at the record shop because business is shit, but Dina has the opposite problem. The diner is always bursting with students and Dina is so pretty and personable her manager keeps asking for more, sometimes almost 40 a week on top of classes.
"Come on, Syd," Dina rolls her eyes and her neck, eventually resting her cheek against her chest to look up at her.
"I'm serious!" Syd says, "You moved here so you could go to school not so you could work yourself to death."
"We," Dina stresses, leaning in to nudge Syd's nose with hers, "moved here so we could go to school."
"I mean...yeah," Syd says, trailing off at the end. It's hard to focus with Dina on top of her and smiling, eyes crinkling around the edges.
"We are so boring," Dina suddenly says, "18 and worrying about bills." She rolls off Syd and on to the floor before resting on the balls of her feet.
"We should go out," Dina says, clapping her thighs.
"Today?" Syd says, sitting up on her elbows. She just spent the last three hours in a lecture hall, and then an hour after that smoking pot and judging people with Stan. She's too tired to go out. And honestly, all she wants to do is put on a movie she's not going to watch and put her head in Dina's lap.
"Yes, today! It's Friday!" Dina says, standing up in a flurry of limbs. "Come on, Syd. We never do anything fun." And it's true. Living in LA is expensive but going out is worse. Because of it they've spent most of the last few months sequestered in their shoebox of an apartment, trading quick kisses before one of them has to run to class or work.
Selfishly, Syd likes it, having Dina all to herself. She knows that if Dina wasn't weighed down by her job and Syd she'd be one of the most popular girls on campus. Another plus is that because Dina so busy or tired, she has less time to wonder why they haven't fucked.
"Please," Dina whines, dropping to her knees so she can loom over Syd. "For me?"
And how is Syd supposed to say no the that?
"Fine," Syd says, "Fine, fine, fine!"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Dina mimics, punctuating each thanks with a kiss. Syd digs her nails into her palms until Dina pulls away.
"God," Dina says, "Going out around real people. It's been so long, I don't know what I'm going to wear."
"Come on," Syd rolls her eyes, smiling. "You could wear my Salvation Army classics and you'd still-" She cuts herself off, worried she's said too much.
Dina smiles, but it's smaller now. Sweet and private, even though they're alone.
Dina leans in to kiss her again and it's anything but sweet, her lips parting, tongue sliding into the seam of Syd's mouth.
When she leans back and rests her forehead against hers, Syd can feel her phone start to burn a hole in her pocket.
She doesn't move to take it out.
"That was almost smooth, Syd," Dina whispers, low and intimate against her mouth before she stands.
She pulls her top off first, draping it over one arm. Then she unzips her skirt, letting it hang off her hips.
Syd doesn't move from where she's sitting on the couch, even though her thigh is on fire.
"I think I'm gonna take a shower before we go. Wanna join?"
Syd desperately tries not to think about Dina, all naked and wet. She's sure the burn on her thigh is third degree at this point.
"Thanks, but I'm good," Syd lies through gritted teeth.
Dina shrugs and opens the door before stopping.
"Actually babe, could you throw my stockings in the laundry? Totally forgot about them."
"Sure, uh, babe," Syd replies, fumbling over the word. This is something they do now, call each other babe. It was disgusting when directed at Brad, but Syd thinks she likes it, being Dina's babe.
"Thanks," Dina says, slipping into the bathroom.
As soon as she's gone, Syd rips her phone out of her jeans with a yelp, hissing when it hits the floor.
"Fuck!" Syd curses, shaking her now burning fingers.
The Nokia brick doesn't even blink, fried and lifeless.
Well, there goes another one.
Syd picks up Dina's flats, placing them by the door in a straight line. Then she picks up the bunch of her stockings.
She called her Mom tacky for wearing them - tacky and lame and so so 90s, Mom - but Dina makes them look sexy. They're the only reason Syd leaves early for her classes on Fridays, so she can catch a glimpse of Dina in her stockings and mini skirt before she flies out the door.
The shower is audibly running but Syd still looks both ways like a criminal before she brings the stockings to her face and inhales.
A few seconds later, curled up on the floor and with Dina a door away, she slides her hand into her pants.
I am such a fucking freak.
"Syd," Dina says, crossing her arms, "You cannot wear that. We live in LA now."
"So?" Syd says. Stan and Dina like saying that a lot, 'We live in LA now,' like because they live in LA they have full license to turn into fancy hipsters.
She fails to see what's wrong with her outfit. A pair of baggy jeans and a hoodie would have been perfectly fine in Brownsville.
"Okay how about, we're not in high school anymore?" Dina says, with a raised brow.
"Come on." Dina tugs on her hand pulling her to her side as she skims through her closet before settling on a top and some dark jeans.
"Here." Dina pushes the clothes in her arms, "Wear this, I promise you'll like it."
Syd doubts that but she heads for the bathroom anyway.
"Where are you going?" Dina asks.
"To change...?"
"You can just change here," Dina says.
"I...okay," Syd says and even though she's blushing, she pulls her hoodie over her head.
She pulls the satin top on next, and then the jeans. They bunch up at the bottom because of their height difference but it looks...
"Good," Dina says, surprisingly breathy, "You look hot Syd, what the hell? Keep those jeans."
"But they're yours-" Syd tries to say before Dina comes at her, wielding lipstick like a sword.
"No, no, no" Syd says, dodging her, "Absolutely not."
"It's just a tinted lip balm," Dina promises, "Don't be a baby."
Syd sighs but stays still as Dina applies it for her, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Her eyes widen in surprise when Dina kisses her right after, smudging her work.
"What was that for?" Syd laughs, her face burning, "Now you're gonna have to do it all over again."
"Maybe that was the plan," Dina teases, already applying the lip balm again, "I like doing this for you, you know. Dressing you up."
"You mean making me pretty?" Syd says, sarcastically.
"You've always been pretty," Dina says, "I just want you to know it too."
Syd doesn't believe her but she still has to bite her lip so she doesn't smile too hard.
They go to a bar in Santa Monica, and it's a confusing mix of fairy lights, sombreros, and cacti, all set to a soundtrack of Spanish music that makes Syd's head hurt.
"Kat and Dan said this place is great," Dina yells over the music, as they settle on bar stools and page through sticky menus.
"Oh, that's cool," Syd says, like she gives a fuck about who Kat and Dan are.
Fuck, I hate it here.
But Dina makes it better. They're both tipsy from cheap tequila they'd downed in the parking lot and it makes Dina giggle, clasping her hands with Syd's and swaying.
"I love this song!" Dina squeals, shaking her shoulder, "Dance with me, Syd."
"Okay-" Syd starts but Dina is already dragging her to the dance floor, wrapping her arms around her neck.
"And I can be needy," Dina sings along, "Way too damn needy."
"Is this Ariana Grande?" Syd asks. She pretends to gag, making Dina laugh and roll her eyes.
"You know, you talk a lot of shit about hipsters but I think you might be the worst of them all."
"Did I say ugh Ariana Grande? I meant yes Ariana Grande, this is actually my favourite song."
"Haha," Dina yells back.
They dance for a long time, Dina screaming lyrics the entire time. Eventually, Syd stops pretending she doesn't know Ariana Grande's entire discography by heart (It's completely Dina's fault, she swears.), and joins her.
Somewhere along the line, Dina kisses her, her hips still swaying lazily to the beat.
It tastes like tequila and Dina's lipgloss.
If Syd was a little more sober, she'd pull away. But it's like the booze and the tacky fairy lights have cast a spell that makes her feel safe and warm.
The bar is tacky and the drinks are overpriced but they're not in Brownsville anymore.
California is safe. Dina is safe. She didn't realize it at the time, but even back in Brownsville, Dina made her feel safe.
I might love you, Syd thinks, but she's not brave enough to say it yet.
She is brave enough to pull Dina closer, two hands on the small of her back, for once uncaring of who sees.
They're both hot and sticky with sweat from all the dancing and it makes the kiss feel dirtier, like they're under the sheets of their bed and not a too-small bar crammed with undergrads.
"Mmm," Dina moans into her mouth, before burying her head in the crook of Syd's neck.
Syd can feel her eyes flutter when Dina presses a kiss there, and then another behind her ear.
I could die like this.
She doesn't get a chance, because they're both shoved forward, Dina almost falling on top of Syd.
"What the fuck just happened?" Syd asks, disoriented.
She gets her answer when she sees a sweaty frat boy draped on Dina's back like a jacket, hips jutting against her ass.
"What the hell? Back off," Dina says, shoving the guy away.
"Oh come on, you don't wanna give me a kiss like your little friend?"
Syd bristles at being called little, her ears starting to ring with anger. She knows exactly how this guy sees her - small, pale, and weird looking next to Dina. Not a threat, but a hindrance to getting in her pants. That's how Brad saw her too, at least until Syd blew his brains out all over the gymnasium.
"She's not my friend asshole, she's my girlfriend."
Dina grabs Syd's hand to make a point, elbowing the man away with her other arm.
She tries to get back to dancing but the man won't let her, grabbing her elbow and making the ringing near scream in Syd's ears.
"Come on, quit playing. A girl like you? There's no way you're a dyke."
Syd's eyes zero in on his meaty hand on Dina's elbow and within seconds, he's not touching her anymore.
The man drops like a stone and starts to scream, so loudly that even the drunk college kids notice, the DJ turning off the music with a screech.
Without the pop soundtrack Syd can hear every snap of his hand, his cries getting louder and louder.
Before, she stood back and gaped. Now, she steps forward, eyes twisted as she stares down at him so he can see just how little she is now.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!
She thinks she hears Dina say her name but the ringing in her ears is louder, the crunch of the man's bones overlaying it all.
"What the fuck!? Syd, Syd - stop it!"
The ringing in her ears stops.
"My hand...my fucking hand!" the man screams, writhing on the floor. His hand is purple and mottled, the fingers twisted at an impossible angle.
It's objectively disgusting but Syd isn't scared like she was with Brad. She's satisfied, because he thought he could touch Dina.
Serves you right, fucker.
As her rage ebbs away, Syd remembers Dina, the crowds, and the fact that cops are a thing that exist.
Most of the people in the bar have run out or given the man a wide berth, a few hovering over him with their iPhones, probably so they can put him on their Instagram story.
Dina stands with her back to a corner, eyes red rimmed and cloudy from tears and booze.
"Shit, Dina are you okay?"
Dina flinches and presses further into the wall when Syd tries to touch her.
"Dina," Syd repeats but she stops when she sees the realization in her eyes, and then the horror.
The frat boy getting his hand crushed without Syd lifting a finger.
Brad.
Fucking, Brad.
It's an impossibility, being able to hurt people with your mind. That's why the cops never figured it out. But Dina's just seen the impossible and once you can accept that, everything becomes possible. Even spontaneous combustion.
Dina claps a hand over her mouth like she's about to puke, turns on her heel, and runs.
"Dina, wait!" Syd screams.
She chases after her but Dina's legs are longer so she sprints out the door and down the street before Syd can catch her.
Syd shoves through crowds of drunk college kids, knocking over more than a few with her powers, but by the time she gets out of the crowd Dina is just a pink dot in the distance.
"Dina!"
Dina is gone for three days.
Syd knows she's at Stan's, because he texts her and lets her know, but she spends the entire three days in bed, curtains drawn.
Somehow, it feels like her Dad has died a second time.
She's not coming back, Syd thinks, and the room gets a little smaller.
She's not coming back, she's never coming back.
She's saw who I really am and she ran.
She's never coming back.
It makes her want to sink into the floor and stay there.
Just let me die, Syd thinks, but she doesn't move. She doesn't have the energy for that.
Syd is so in her head, she misses the soft click of the front door until Dina speaks.
"Hey," she says.
Syd sits up quickly, eyes wide.
She looks good, in a loose pink dress with her hair freshly curled.
It's like that night in Santa Monica didn't happen at all.
"Hey," Syd croaks, conscious of the grease in her hair and her sweat soaked clothes.
Dina steps forward slowly before climbing into bed next to her.
Syd lies down again, cautious, but doesn't look at her. At least until Dina turns and curls into her like she's done a thousand times before.
"So..." Dina breaks the silence, "Brad."
"...yeah," Syd says, "Brad."
"I need to know...did you do it on purpose?" Dina asks, her voice breaking.
"No! God, no, Dina you have to know I didn't, I would never -" Syd says, "I hated him so much I wanted him dead most days but I would have never done it on purpose, I swear. It's just this thing inside of me that I can't control, I can't -"
"Hey, hey," Dina grabs her face and Syd realizes she's started to hyperventilate. "Sssh, you're fine. I'm here, you're fine."
It really is like Dad died a second time.
Dina had comforted her the same way back then too.
Syd breathes through her nose and calms down. Not because of Dina's words but her touch. Her hands on her face and her weight against her side.
She's not afraid of me, Syd realizes, and she's suddenly so happy she could run a marathon after three days in bed.
"I know you didn't mean to do it," Dina whispers, "I don't know why I even asked when I know you. I know you, Syd."
Syd nods and blinks back tears, because she does. Even when Dina didn't know about this scary thing inside of her, no one has seen Syd more clearly than her.
"Why aren't you more mad at me?" Syd asks, voice quiet, "You should be calling the police, screaming, doing...something. You loved him didn't you?"
Dina stares at her for a long time, her face unreadable.
"He hit me sometimes," she finally says.
The ringing in her ears has never started so quickly.
"He..." Syd trails off, shocked.
Dina nods, avoiding her eyes.
Syd almost wishes she hadn't blown his fucking head up just so she could kill him again.
"That fucking-"
"Syd," Dina covers her mouth with one hand. It's soft and smells like her lilac hand lotion, and Syd is suddenly struck with how much she's missed her. "Can we not do this now? Please?"
She thinks back on high school, on bruised knees and limbs. Dina always had an excuse back then from PE to sucking dick and Syd had never questioned it because why would she?
Dina was a badass. Dina was golden. Even now, she can't imagine how someone could want to hurt someone so bright. It makes her want to break something, how useless she is at protecting the people she cares about. From Liam to Stan, and now Dina.
The questions are on the tip of her tongue. How many times? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone? But Dina is pleading with her, so she nods stiffly.
Dina's hand trails down Syd's face, curling under her own head like a makeshift pillow.
"Can I ask how it works?" Dina says, "Stan said you had superpowers but that's all he told me. He said it wasn't his story to tell."
"He makes it sound a lot cooler than it is," Syd sniffs, pawing at her gross face. "It's...power for sure. But I can't just use it whenever I want. It only comes out when I'm angry, upset...horny," Syd whispers the last word, embarrassed.
Dina's eyebrows rise, in surprise at the last one.
"Oh...oh!" Her mouth hangs open, like she's just realized something.
"That's why we haven't done it yet!?" She looks excited and Syd doesn't understand why.
She nods, sheepishly.
"Wait, why did you think we hadn't done it yet?"
Dina shrugs, "I just thought you were asexual or something. You don't exactly talk about sex, Syd. Or me."
She's not wrong. Dina calls her hot so often Syd's lost count, pouring out her affection through constant compliments and kisses. Syd must seem frigid in comparison.
"Trust me, I am not asexual," Syd says, indignant. She's spent enough nights with her hands in her pants to know that. "You thought I was asexual and you were okay with it?"
Dina shrugs and smiles.
"I'm okay with anything when it comes to you. And I'm not like, sex-crazed, Syd. "
Well, I am, Syd thinks. They were literally just talking about her offing Brad, and all she can focus on is the dip in Dina's dress that shows off her tits.
I'm a fucking menace.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met and I want to have sex with you like, all the time," Syd blurts out.
Dina stares at her with wide eyes, pink now staining her cheeks.
"Oh. Okay."
Syd wants to die.
But then Dina scoots closer, so close Syd almost goes cross eyed to keep looking at her.
"I want to have sex with you like, all the time too," Dina says, with a toothy smile.
Then she kisses her. Syd knows she must taste like shit after three days in bed but Dina moans into it like she's the best thing she's ever tasted, and Syd wonders why she didn't tell her the truth months ago.
She's tempted to make a joke about Dina being turned on by honesty, but she feels it too. It's like all the invisible barriers between them are gone, everything unsaid, now said.
Dina rolls on top so she's on her lap, and Syd is reminded of that day in her room. When they were in the exact same position and the room was full of so much light.
The memory fades when Dina straddles Syd's thigh because that definitely hadn't happened.
Dina rolls her hips on to Syd's thigh as she kisses her, panting into her mouth and tugging on her greasy hair.
When her thighs seize up, clinging to Syd's so she feels just how hot and wet Dina's cunt is against her bare thigh.
Holy fuck.
"Holy fuck," Syd says.
Dina giggles, but it turns into a moan when she grinds down on Syd's thigh again.
"Oh my God," Syd says. It feels like she's malfunctioning, her hands twisting uselessly at her sides. After months of peanut butter and 3am masturbation sessions, she doesn't know what to do with herself.
"Touch me," Dina urges.
Syd might not know what the fuck she's doing, but she does what she's wanted to touch for months. She pulls the already falling collar of Dina's dress down, tugging at it until Dina's breasts are spilling out.
Syd cups one with one hand, tugging on the bud before kissing it, and pulling it into her mouth.
Dina groans, high and wanton, clinging to Syd's head like a limpet.
Her skin is salty but sweet on Syd's tongue and it makes her wonder what her cunt must taste like.
"Oh my God, Syd!" Dina suddenly yells.
Wow, I'm like, really good at this, Syd thinks. She can't wait to finally tell Stan some real sex stories.
"Are you coming?" People ask that a lot, in porn, so it sounds like the right thing to say.
"No, Syd!"
And that's when Syd realizes the bed is fucking floating.
"Holy-"
Before she can finish her sentence, the bed frame falls to the ground with a bang.
They both lie there in shock for a long moment, listening to their neighbours below slowly wake up. A dog starts barking. A baby cries. Mrs. Sanchez one floor down starts cursing so loudly Syd's sure the entire building can hear it.
And then Dina starts to laugh.
I've broken her, Syd thinks, I actually broke Dina.
"Are you okay?" Syd asks, trying not to laugh herself.
"Yeah, I'm," Dina nods, laughing too hard to answer her properly, "Oh my God, Syd. I get it now, I really really get it."
"Stop laughing at me!" Syd says, slapping Dina's thigh that's still wrapped around her. "This is why I was holding back for so long! I'm a menace."
She's laughing until she isn't, because it's the truth isn't it?
"Hey," Dina says, grabbing her face, "You're my little menace."
Dina kisses her hard, and it's one of the few times Syd meets her with the same fervour, bursting with how grateful she is, that she has Dina in her life.
Thank you for understanding, Syd thinks. Thank you for still wanting me, despite it all.
Dina squeaks in surprise when Syd's hand slides down to grab at her ass.
"Woah," Dina laughs, grabbing her hand, "Easy. I think we both need a shower after that, you more than me."
"Besides," she adds, tucking Syd's hair behind her ear, "We've got all the time in the world, right?"
They've never talked about the future before, but Syd has thought about it. A bigger apartment in a less expensive city, with sunny yellow paint, and maybe even a dog, something her Mom never let her have. She thinks Dina would, though.
Syd smiles, and nods.
"Right."