You Must Be Layla

by Yassmin Abdel-Magied

  Rahhhhh, I don’t even know if this is halal. Ah well, he’s my friend, and he’s sad. Allah can forgive that!

  ‘It’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay, Ethan. Whatever it is. Let it all out, it’s okay.’

  Layla continued to rub his back and whisper kind words to her friend until she heard the sniffling slow down and eventually stop. After a few minutes, he lifted his head, and Layla pulled both of her hands back to her lap, almost guiltily. She was certainly feeling self-conscious about how close she was to Ethan now. But she tried to keep her mind on the issue at hand. This all couldn’t be about her outburst yesterday. Something else was going on.

  Ethan wiped the tears off his face, using his shirt collar to dry his cheeks.

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said, avoiding eye contact with Layla.

  ‘Sorry?’ Layla sounded taken aback. ‘Sorry for what?’

  Ethan’s voice, still husky from crying, was embarrassed. ‘Sorry for making a scene. Sorry for crying. Sorry for being so weak, I suppose. Boys aren’t supposed to cry and all that.’ As he talked, he faced away from Layla, so she had to lean toward him to hear what he was saying.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Layla admonished, almost annoyed.

  Urgh, she hated rules about what girls and boys were ‘supposed’ to do. Usually she got annoyed when someone told her girls shouldn’t do something, but this was kind of the same thing.

  ‘Dude. What is it, 1950? My dad cries ALL. THE. TIME. He cries in movies. He cried in High School Musical. He cried in Moana. He cried in Happy Feet Two. He cries when I win awards. He cries watching Jake Paul on YouTube, but I think that’s a different kind of crying, to be honest. I don’t think crying is a boy or girl thing. It’s a feeling thing – and boys have feelings, don’t they?’

  She hadn’t meant it to turn out like a lecture, but clearly it was starting to sound like one, as Ethan had turned to look at her, leaning back. His facial expression was a mixture of confused and quizzical. ‘Whoa, I clearly got you going there, Laylz. I didn’t mean anything by it you know, it’s no big deal, you’re always so dramatic …’

  Layla shook her head. ‘No, it is a big deal, Eth! You gotta be okay with, like, having feelings! I did a project about this for school last year–’ in fact, this project got her a national award, but she wasn’t one for boasting ‘–and it was about mental health and, like, suicide, and how, like, boys end up doing terrible things and hurting themselves because they’re depressed, and well … don’t talk about their feelings! I don’t want you to hurt yourself, Eth!’

  Oh, that really had escalated. As the words were coming out of her mouth, she had seen Ethan’s red eyebrows rising, higher, higher, higher … almost disappearing back into his hairline. When she finished, his face was stuck into an expression of shock.

  ‘BRUH.’ Ethan’s eyes were wide open, and his shock exasperated Layla.

  ‘What?! It’s, like, something we gotta talk about!’

  ‘No, I mean.’ Ethan lifted his hand from the grass and gestured. ‘Look behind you.’

  Layla turned around and her jaw dropped. Peter had been standing behind her, flanked by a huge group of Year 8 boys. Peter’s presence was like a dark cloud passing through on a sunny day; his frame blocked out the sunlight and the temperature felt a little cooler in his shadow. His sleeves were rolled up – uniform regulation breach – and he had a bemused look of smugness on his face. The expression made his face ugly.

  ‘Talking about feelings are you, you little worm?’ he sneered. ‘Well, you can talk all about those feelings when you feel what it’s like to be beaten by me in the Grand Designs Tourismo.’

  Layla rolled her eyes. She didn’t have time for Peter right now, and strangely enough, the conversation with Ethan about feelings had planted a seed in her mind about why Peter might hate her so much.

  ‘Whatever, Trevor. Are you going to sit down and eat, or just stand around trying to look like a big man?’ her voice came out flippant, dismissive. Layla then looked back to Ethan again, turning her back on Peter and effectively ending the conversation. A tense beat passed and Layla waited, knowing this was a defining moment. Would he yell at her, push her, try to continue the battle? Or would he decide to sit down and be a part of the group?

  ‘OIIIIII!!’ A yell came from seemingly far away, breaking the tension. It was Seb, running from the classroom to catch up with the rest of the crew. Everyone turned to watch Seb trot up the hill, his trademark brown hair flopping about.

  ‘You guys left without me!’ he said part jokingly, part accusingly. When he arrived at the top of the hill, puffed and a bead of sweat forming on his upper lip, he stopped, and then surveyed the group.

  ‘What’s going on here?’

  He looked between Layla and Peter; Layla, sitting on the grass with her back to Peter, who was standing with his hands on his hips. Seb shook his head and laughed.

  ‘Oh, whatever hey, I just wanna eat! Sit down already!’ Seb pushed his lunchbox into Peter’s arm, rocking him slightly, and then threw himself onto the grass next to Ethan and Layla. Layla laughed; Seb lay on the grass like it was his lounge room. Peter turned around and then skulked away.

  Yeah, go on, get out of here! Layla turned her attention back to the group. Seb was doing his food announcement.

  ‘All right, everyone, we’ve got my favourite lunch – arroz con pollo!’

  The boys groaned, although that was no surprise – they groaned every lunch. Seb twisted the crock pot lid off and then tilted the container so Layla could see inside. There was rice and chicken, and the smell of spice was strong, but delicious.

  Later, when the bell for class rang, Layla looked over at Ethan, who she’d temporarily forgotten in all the hullabaloo. His face was paler than usual, making his freckles pop out like flecks of blood in snow. Even his lips looked white. His eyes stared intensely, at nothing – his stillness was frightening Layla. She hadn’t seen anything like this before and didn’t know what was the right thing to do.

  ‘Ethan,’ she shook his shoulder. ‘Ethan, it’s time to go to class now.’

  Ethan looked up at Layla, unseeing, got up from the grass and started walking down the hill and following the boys who had already headed off. Seb hung back and looked at Layla out of the side of his eyes.

  ‘Yo,’ he said, motioning to Ethan with his head. ‘Figure out what’s going on?’

  Layla shrugged. ‘I dunno, man. Was he like this in the morning?’

  Seb chuckled. ‘Yeh, I noticed you missed first period,’ he said, then his chuckle vanished. ‘He came in this morning like that, man, like he’d seen Casper or something. He didn’t talk all morning, and you weren’t there to, like, make a terrible joke or something to get him to laugh – even if it was out of pity. I was stuck!’

  Layla started walking down the hill, laughing as her walk turned into a skip. ‘Ha! Mate, you couldn’t survive without me. Admit it, I’m the best thing that happened to all of youse!’

  Seb jogged down beside her, shaking his head. ‘Mate, nobody says “youse”. It’s, like, not a real word.’

  Layla glared at Seb jokingly, then stopped skipping and turned around.

  ‘Dude!’ she yelled, pointing back up the hill. ‘You forgot your crock pot!’

  ‘Oh, for the love of God!’ Seb yelled, and started jogging back up the enormous hill. Layla’s cackle followed Seb all the way back up. ‘When you hear that sound, really, it could only be Layla.’

  The bell rang for the end of the final class just as Layla was thinking about her gummy worm design again. Everyone rushed to their bags, and while stuffing her books into her backpack, Layla realised that Ethan hadn’t left his seat. He hadn’t said anything all day either. She walked toward him staring into space.

  ‘Broooo, what’s going on?’ she asked. ‘C’mon, man. It’s home time! Let’s go!’ She waved for him to join her.

  Ethan slowly got out of his chair, tucked it under the desk meticulously and start
ed walking to the door. Layla, ever impatient, walked behind him, then even more impatiently started pushing him in the back to walk faster.

  Ethan spun around suddenly. ‘Get off me!’ he said, flicking her hands away.

  He turned and continued walking, but Layla stood still, shocked. Ethan had never lost his temper or cool – not even in a joking way. He’d always been the really quiet and level-headed one in the group. This was wayyyyyy out of character.

  ‘Ethan, Ethan, wait!’ Layla ran after him, her backpack thudding heavily with every step. The long skirt and backpack combination wasn’t doing her any favours in the aerodynamics department. Standing in front of Ethan, Layla looked down, studying her scuffed brown leather shoes.

  ‘Listen, I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have touched you without asking, and definitely shouldn’t have pushed you. I don’t know what’s going on,’ Layla looked up from her fingers into his face, meeting his eyes briefly before looking back down, ‘but know that I’m here for you when you’re ready to tell me, okay?’

  Ethan sucked his lips in and nodded silently.

  Layla stood awkwardly in front of Ethan, unsure.

  ‘Well, then … I can’t do much, but can I give you a hug?’ she asked him.

  Again, Ethan nodded, wordlessly.

  Layla reached around and enveloped Ethan in a hug – of friendship, of comfort, of … well, she was hugging the guy she had a crush on, so it was a hug of so much!

  Letting go, she smiled at him.

  ‘Okay, I gotta run. Text me, okay?’

  Ethan nodded.

  Layla trotted out of the classroom and toward the front gate.

  Something about that hug had planted another seed in her mind. So at home that night, lying in bed, her mind wandering, Layla held her breath for a moment then sat up with excitement. She had an idea.

  That was it!

  CHAPTER 17

  ‘I’M going to make an edible robot that gives you hugs!’ Layla announced with flourish, the next morning before class. She was in the tech room, sketchbook open, talking to Mr Gilvarry, who had come in to check on her progress.

  ‘It’s perfect, because the only things that have to move are the arms, so I can make a bear or a doll out of anything–’ Layla’s arms were animated, as she excitedly tried to outline in the air what the thing she invented would look like. Her beige blouse was covered with bits of blue rubber that had come off her eraser as she drew and redrew ideas for what the edible robot would look like. The side of her hand was also darkened with lead where it had been rubbing on the sketches she had drawn in the book.

  Mr Gilvarry watched Layla with amusement, and his ginger moustache bristled with pride. Finally, she had connected with an idea that made sense to her.

  ‘Maybe something else edible, like a gingerbread cookie or something?’ suggested Gilvarry.

  ‘Yeh! Like that!’ Layla exclaimed, clapping excitedly and sending the pencil in her hand flying, clattering across the room. ‘And then you attach the arms to the doll or bear and you make the arms so once they’re actuated, they go from being straight to arms that come up and give you a hug!’ Layla looked down at her notes thoughtfully. ‘Or maybe the robot could just give a soft drink can a hug because right now making a big robot is probably a little too much?’

  Her mouth twisted in amusement. This was going to be so dope! No one else was going to have a robot like hers. And she had come up with it all by herself too – being a solo team was the actual best!

  She’d had the idea when she was hugging Ethan. She remembered feeling all stiff and heavy – her backpack felt like it was weighing her down with stones so her upper body couldn’t really move; her long skirt was stiff and heavy and her blazer was almost just as bad. Even then, she didn’t need all that much to be able to give a hug! She just needed to move her arms. And with that small movement, something magical happened – her friend felt better! So that night, as she lay in bed, her brain had joined the dots. Why not create something simple, to copy something that she had experienced joy from in real life! And also show people the importance of hugs, of taking care of each other and of friends. You could even put a little note in the gummy bear’s arms, that would be a nice touch, and, like, wayyyy cooler than one of those weird gift cards that sing. And once you’ve shown people, well, then you can eat it!

  She really loved eating gummy worms. Ha! Ms T thought a gummy actuator would be useless. Wait till she heard about this! Layla had wriggled excitedly underneath her doona, then decided she couldn’t wait until the morning. Leaping out of bed, she fumbled and searched in the darkness for her schoolbag, fishing out her sketchbook and a pencil. Creeping silently back into her bed, the floor creaking slightly, she used the torch on her phone to light up an empty page and scribble at the top:

  INTRODUCING: HUGGY BEAR!

  It would be weird to call it a huggy worm and I really want to make it a play on words of some sort! This will do.

  Singing to herself, she had scribbled a few sketches on her page hurriedly that night; starting with a very basic block with moveable arms, then she’d changed it to the shape of a person, to a Lego woman with silicon/gummy worm arms. The drawings were sloppy and rough, but Gilvarry would be pleased, she knew. It didn’t need to look pretty, it just needed to explain what she was trying to show. And if a stick figure worked, a stick figure worked!

  Back at the workshop, Layla was negotiating the next steps with Gilvarry. She had pages and pages of sketches now and had a fairly good idea of what she wanted it to look like.

  ‘Nice one, young’un,’ Gilvarry said smiling, as Layla showed her teacher the sketches. ‘Just in time too! You’ll have to work hard to get the thing built by competition day next week, but if you put your head down, you should just make it! Phew!’ Gilvarry rubbed his hands together, clearly pleased for his student.

  Layla was sure she misheard the man. ‘Next week?! What do you mean the competition is next week?’ As she saw Gilvarry nod, Layla could barely contain her shock. She hadn’t had a clue the deadline was so close.

  ‘How is it so soon?’ This might be the perfect excuse to get out of the party though …

  ‘Well, you see, most of the project teams start working before the Christmas break, because they know the competition date is so early in the school year. And usually new people join an existing team, so it doesn’t make that much of a difference. For you, however, you’re in a unique position. Didn’t you check when you signed up?’

  Layla absentmindedly shook her head, not really listening.

  Gosh, she really had been stuffing up a lot of things since she’d started at MMGS. Forgetting to go to class, suspension, now almost missing the competition date. She knew this place would have lots of new opportunities, but she had never really thought about all the extra work and responsibilities that came with that.

  Gilvarry also mentioned something about signing up. I should probably find out what he was talking about …

  But before she could even finish that thought, Layla’s mind slipped into Shutdown Mode. It was the phrase: ‘the competition is next week’, that triggered her brain into that infamous method of focus she used at ISB, and the very same one that had helped her study hard enough to get the MMGS scholarship. Shutdown Mode. This wasn’t a normal race any more, this was a hardcore sprint to the finish line. She needed to work hard and fast to ensure she smashed this thing out of the park.

  Since Shutdown Mode was now activated, there would be no time for idle chatter. Mr Gilvarry seemed to be going on and on about paperwork. Layla looked at him and watched his mouth move, but she had totally tuned out his words.

  ‘Just remember to submit your forms,’ he was saying. ‘And the way it works is that there is a first round, where the judges look at the different robots. Only twenty-five per cent go to the next round, and then it’s a bunch of elimination rounds until they pick the winner. You can join forces with people after the first round, if you don’t make it t
hrough …’

  ‘All right, G. I’m off!’ she announced, cutting him off mid-sentence. She was never going to join someone else’s team.

  Gilvarry looked slightly shocked, like he was surprised Layla was leaving at that exact moment, but she didn’t have time to stay around. She needed some alone time – to sit down, make the prototype, and win this competition, proving to everyone that she deserved to be there.

  Layla ran out of the room, feet sliding on the smooth concrete floor, skidding slightly and she bolted down the hall. She just liked breaking out into a sprint sometimes: it gave her a burst of energy and kept things interesting. She sang to herself as she ran, adding a score to her own superhero saga.

  As she hopped down the stairs, no hands on the handrails – because she was risky like that – the bell for the first period rang in the distance. Aiiieee! She was going to have to run to class and finish the drawing of the prototype later. There would be no time for chatting during morning tea or lunch either now, given she was in Shutdown Mode. It was all hands on deck.

  While she ran, she DM’d her best friend, Dina. Multitasking!

  Layla

  Gurl, things are getting hectic. I’m going into SD mode.

  Dina

  SHUTDOWN MODE? Yo, things must be real bad.

  Layla

  Yeh. Imma be offline for a bit.

  Dina

  I can’t c u this w/e? not comin 2mosque on Sun?

  Layla

  Nah boo soz:/

  Dina

  Guess that’s ur excuse for that party too …

  Layla

  Ha. Silver linings?

  That afternoon, sitting back on a stool in the tech room, feet resting on the bar between the stool legs, Layla surveyed the page in front of her and grinned, pleased.

  Perfect.

  The drawing was the seventh Huggy Bear she had sketched that afternoon. She’d started with a plain gingerbread man as suggested by Mr Gilvarry, but she didn’t think that was enough. How could she make it more real? This was supposed to be, like, a robot competition, not MasterChef!