You Must Be Layla

by Yassmin Abdel-Magied

  Layla’s stomach dropped, past her feet and into the ground. It fell so far, it pretty much hit magma.

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry. ‘Oh …’

  Her throat closed up, and no more words came out. Layla started fiddling with the edge of her scarf. How was she going to tell these people that she had made such a big mistake – another huge mistake? She was definitely going to get kicked out of MMGS now!

  Baba, who had been standing to the side listening, stepped up to the table. ‘I’m sorry, but it would appear that my daughter hasn’t actually completed the paperwork required. Is there a way she can participate anyway? We’ve worked very hard on the project, and it’s quite a novel invention: edible actuators!’

  For the first time since they’d arrived, both administrator’s faces betrayed a sign of emotion.

  ‘That does sound quite interesting,’ the female administrator said, exchanging a glance with the other.

  Layla’s heart skipped a beat – were they impressed enough by her idea that they would let her compete?

  Apparently not. The second administrator shook his head. ‘That may be so,’ he said, ‘but if you haven’t registered a team, you can’t compete. The only option is for you to join another team from MMGS and somehow combine your projects.’

  The woman nodded, consulting her clipboard. ‘Yes. It looks like the other teams from your school have the maximum number of members except for …’ her fingernail traced down the list on the page ‘… except for Mr Peter Cox’s team.’

  ‘You have until the beginning of round two of judging to make your decision. You either join Mr Cox’s team, or you forfeit your chance to compete at GDT.’

  With that proclamation, both administrators spun on their heels and walked away, leaving Mr Gilvarry standing in front of Layla and her father. All three of them were in stunned silence.

  ‘Ya-nhar-aswad, no, no, no, no …’

  Layla’s voice broke, and tears started streaming down her face. No! How could this have happened? How could it have come down to this? How did she miss something so obvious like MAKING SURE SHE REGISTERED?!

  Layla’s mind felt like scrambled eggs, and she thought she was going to vomit. Again. This was it. This was the end of the line. Slowly, Layla’s legs gave way, and she sunk to the floor, burying her face in the skirt material covering her knees. She took a deep, shuddering breath in, and then let out a high-pitched wail. It sounded like the whine of a motor warming up, so nobody in the room even blinked at the sound.

  ‘Layla!’ Baba crouched down next to her and started rubbing her back, comfortingly. ‘It’s okay, habibti. We will figure this out.’

  Standing back up, Kareem addressed the tech teacher standing in front of him, hands in pockets. Gilvarry looked down at the table, almost forlorn.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Baba said to him, and Gilvarry shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Aie, I did say to the lass that she needed to register, but I should have checked. She’ll have to join the Cox boy’s group.’ Gilvarry pointed to a table a few rows down, where the maroon blazers of MMGS were visible. ‘Otherwise, you’re both going to have to pack up and leave. That’s simply how it is. I’m really sorry, because I really love your daughter’s work, sir, but this one is out of my hands.’ Gilvarry scratched the back of his head and shrugged, then walked away, bus driver socks and all.

  Layla was still down on the floor, crouching and refusing to acknowledge what was going on around her.

  ‘All right, let’s go outside and get some fresh air,’ her father suggested, and she looked up at him, sniffling and nodded. Baba handed her his pocket handkerchief, a grey cotton square he always kept neatly folded in his trousers. ‘Wipe your face, blow your nose and let’s go.’

  They found a bench across the road from the exhibition hall. Baba bought them both an ice-cream each from the nearby shop, and so they sat side by side, father and daughter, eating their cones in silence.

  Once Baba finished his cone, he folded the cardboard packaging it had come in and threw it in the bin next to the bench. He then turned to Layla.

  ‘Okay. You’re going to need to figure out a way through this. You made a mistake by not checking what the registration process was when you got involved in this project, right?’

  Layla nodded. She was going to have to accept that she wasn’t great with responsibility like that, especially because it seemed Mr Gilvarry had tried to remind her to register and she’d just tuned him out.

  ‘But you have worked really hard on your idea.’

  Layla nodded again. ‘It’s a bit silly now, though, isn’t it?’

  Kareem tilted his head, considering. ‘Not necessarily. I mean, there were lots of things throughout history that I am sure would have been weird when they were invented, but when you find the proper use for them, it seems very obvious that they are important items for our everyday life. You don’t quite know the value of what you have invented yet, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value,’ he said.

  ‘But that’s not the biggest problem. Your biggest problem right now is how you are going to be a part of this competition, and secure your future, without your own team.’

  Layla dropped her head into her hands. This was a complete nightmare. She’d worked so hard to get into a school like this, all on her own, and now she’d ruined that so quickly. She’d got suspended, she’d been rude to teachers, she’d invented something super weird and she couldn’t even keep on top of the paperwork she needed to do. How had things got so out of hand? She was so tired of feeling angry and exhausted. She just wanted it all worked out.

  All of a sudden a freckly face framed in red curls popped into her mind. Ah, Ethan … what would Ethan say in a moment like this? Layla wasn’t sure if she knew Ethan well enough yet, but she had a feeling he would echo what so many people had said to her over the past few weeks. Find a way to make it work with the boy she hated. Peter Cox. Swallow her pride. Channel the Jamel. Be a Queen.

  Layla lifted her head out of her hands and looked at her father. ‘I need to talk to Cox, don’t I?’ she said.

  Her father shrugged. ‘It might be your only chance,’ he said, ‘but I understand it will be difficult. Just focus on what’s important to you. Is it winning the competition, or beating Peter? You might not be able to have both.’

  Layla walked back into the hallway and bumped into Matty from Cox’s group. He looked slightly frazzled and distracted, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

  ‘Hey, Matty, how’s it going?’ Layla asked, hoping to get his help in finding a way to join the team.

  Matty’s eyes, which darted from left to right, finally focused on Layla in front of him.

  ‘Oh, yeh, um, fine,’ he muttered. ‘Yeh,’ he swallowed. ‘Good, good.’

  He blinked, taking a deep breath in and then rubbing his hands down the front of his jacket, smoothing it down. ‘Yeh, it’s all going good. The robot is working, so we’re excited. We find out if we make it through the first round pretty soon, but I mean, ha! Of course, we will!’ Matty laughed awkwardly.

  Layla nodded. ‘So, what is it that your robot actually does?’ she asked, curious. She’d seen the thing move around on the table on those wheels, but the iPad face was a bit weird.

  ‘Oh, it’s like a portable telepresence robot – so it can help kids who can’t get to school learn via the robot – it cruises around class, and you can Facetime with the iPad face. It’s also good for, like, old people. It can help them around the house and stuff …’ Matty’s voice trailed off and his eyes focused on something behind Layla. ‘Hey, sorry, I’ve gotta run,’ he said, abruptly pushing past Layla and sprinting into the exhibition hall.

  Hmm, that was a bit strange, wasn’t it? Matty was very distracted. Layla’s eyes widened as she remembered the scene from the senior students’ tech room she’d walked into last week. They were playing with robotic hands and it looked like they were having a big discussion! And Matty hadn’t men
tioned hands at all. Maybe there was something there …

  Layla started running too. She looked at the large digital screen on the wall above the doors, which had the schedule of the day. The first round was now complete and the second round started in half an hour. If she was to join Cox’s team, she needed to convince him to let her help in the next thirty minutes! Bismillah!

  She spotted the group’s table across the hall and ran over. As she got closer, she could hear them having an argument.

  Okay, go in gently, she told herself.

  Slowing down, she walked over to the table. Peter looked up and spotted her, his mouth twisting venomously.

  ‘What do you want?!’ he snarled at her.

  Layla’s heard skipped a beat. She just wanted to punch this guy! Who did he think he was, talking to her like that? But she couldn’t, so she breathed in, deeply, and thought of Nelson Mandela. If he could work with people who hated him, she could too.

  ‘Hey, Peter,’ she said tentatively, approaching the table with confidence. Matty moved aside to let her in. ‘So, here’s the thing. I didn’t actually register my team, so I can’t compete.’

  Peter chuckled disdainfully.

  ‘But a little birdy told me that perhaps you could use my help. And since I don’t want to go back to school today, rather than sit around and be bored, I thought I’d come and offer my services.’

  Peter laughed mockingly, but paying more attention, Layla could see that his eyes were also nervous. ‘What on earth could you offer that we would need?’ he asked. The rest of the group shuffled, uncomfortable with the dynamic.

  ‘Well,’ Layla hoped this punt was going to pay off, ‘I heard you were having a few problems with your hands.’ She looked pointedly at the ends of the arms of the telepresence robot.

  They were bare.

  ‘Damn! Who told you?’ Peter burst out, his voice clearly betraying his frustration and embarrassment.

  Layla put her hands up, reassuringly. ‘No one told me, Peter. I figured it out on my own. Now, I think I can help you, but I have two conditions.’

  Peter looked at her suspiciously. ‘What conditions?’

  ‘Well, firstly, I join the team. And I need to join the team before the second round, otherwise I’m disqualified.’

  ‘If your plan fixes our hand problem, then you are part of the team,’ Peter said, his voice cautious. ‘What is the second condition?’

  ‘I want you to admit what you did that first day at school and tell the principal and your dad.’

  Layla felt the group around her stiffen. Clearly, this was a big ask, but on her way here, Layla figured that if she was going to bite her tongue and forgive, Peter should at least have to acknowledge what he’d done.

  The bully stood in front of her, frozen. Layla studied his face. He looked like his mind was racing. She’d taken a big gamble with asking him to swallow his pride, especially in front of his team – she knew this wasn’t the way that all the famous people in history worked. What was it that Ms T said? Don’t challenge someone’s ego …

  ‘And don’t say they won’t believe you. I’ve got video to show what you did.’ Layla pulled out her phone and started playing the video that Leesa had sent her. Although Layla and Leesa didn’t hang out much, they’d started seeing each other at the pick-up area after school, and soon become friends via tumblr and Snapchat. When the young Syrian-Aussie had realised the video she’d recorded could help Layla in some way, she sent a copy straight over. Layla hadn’t wanted to resort to using this video (it felt a bit shady), but at the end of the day, this competition was her last chance to keep that scholarship and stay on the path to her dreams. Queens do what they need to do, and sometimes, their hands get a little dirty. Ya Allah, forgive me! Layla prayed silently.

  The entire group craned their heads to watch the video on Layla’s phone, and collectively gasped as the image of Peter pushing Layla over and over again until she fell into the ground played out in front of them. Peter wasn’t watching the video though; he was staring right at Layla, who was staring right back. The Sudanese teen saw something strange flicker behind his pupils, like the young man was troubled. That couldn’t be possible, Peter was the bully here.

  ‘Fine, I did it. You can join.’ As the video ended, he finally spoke. His voice was short, clipped. But there it was. Wow, that was quick. So much easier than Layla expected. I wonder why …

  Layla held his gaze. ‘Thank you. But I have one more thing. Can you apologise to me now? Here … so we can both forgive each other and move on?’ Layla spread her arms wide, motioning to everyone standing around them, watching closely.

  Peter scrunched up his face, scowling. ‘Get out of here. That wasn’t one of the conditions! Plus, you owe me an apology! I had a bruise for weeks!’

  Layla had seen how quickly he’d acquiesced to her conditions and realised this project was just as important to him as it was to her. And now that she had the floor, she was going to set the record straight.

  ‘Peter, you’re right. That wasn’t one of the conditions, so you don’t need to do it now. But you need to understand how hurtful your comments are, and how hard you have made life for me.’ Layla straightened her spine, threw her shoulders back and channelled her inner queen. ‘You need to understand that your actions hurt others, in the same way that other people hurt you. I’m sorry for being mean to you, headbutting you and calling you names. It’s not cool. But that goes for both of us. I dunno what’s going on with you, but we can’t just spray our pain on everyone else. So, here’s a chance to set it right.’

  Matty and the other boys were all starting at Layla during this monologue, then they turned to look at Peter. It was like a tennis match, the ball the elephant in the room.

  Peter was looking down at the table, his hands balled into fists, knuckles down on the desk. A muscle twitched in his jaw. The tension was as thick as gummy goo.

  Layla was just about to say something when Peter lifted his head and looked Layla straight in the eyes.

  ‘Look. I dunno what voodoo stuff you’ve got going on, and how you’re getting into my head? But fine. I’ve got my own stuff going on, okay? My dad goes on and on and on about GDT, how it’s the best competition in the world and how the Cox’s are destined to win it. Do you know what that pressure is like?’ Peter’s voice cracked. ‘After my brother’s team failed, I just had to win, okay. I just had to. And you come up in here with your huge skirt and loud laugh and wild headscarf and are all “Look at me, I’m Layla!” and you think you’re the best? And then you want to be in this competition and take it all from me? Do you know how much my dad would hate me after that? Do you know how hard I’ve had to fight for him to even notice me? God, it makes me hate you.’ Peter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. ‘But I know it’s not really about you. Whatever, okay? Fine. My bad. SOR-RY.’

  Layla stood in front of Peter, slightly stunned by the boy’s confession. The monologue rang out, loud and clear in the large, quiet hall. Layla almost felt for Peter. Who knew that he was under so much pressure? Ethan was right. Everyone really is fighting their own battles. Janey Mack, this was so intense.

  ‘But. That’s enough about mushy stuff. Let’s get this damn thing fixed ASAP!’ Turning around, Peter punched the desk, his words also like jabs in the air, ending the emotional conversation. It was all robot from here.

  Layla smiled to herself. For a moment, Peter was a different person. And although his yelling and aggressive manner were right back, that moment of humanity had given her something to work with. In so many ways, he really was just like everyone else.

  Maybe being kind did have its perks!

  It turned out that the problem was quite simple: they wanted to use robot hands or fingers as grippers that would pick up sensitive items like eggs, without crushing them. The ones they were trialling were made out of metal or silicon, but they were all using too much force so would crush the delicate items they tried to pick up in the demonstration.r />
  ‘What PSI are you using for the silicon hands?’ Layla asked.

  ‘Like, 25?’ was Matty’s response, who was in charge of the air hose operation. ‘They don’t work at any lower PSI.’

  Layla smiled and fished the Huggy Bear arms from her pockets. She thought these might come in handy.

  ‘How about trying these? I made them for my project, but since I can’t use them, perhaps we can attach them onto your robot.’

  ‘What are those? They look gross as!’ Peter’s face, always full of expression, looked slightly revolted.

  ‘They’re gummy worms all melted together to make edible actuators!’ Layla said proudly. ‘And they work at about 3 PSI! Perfect for lifting an egg, yeh?’

  By combining forces, the team made it to the final round of the competition, eventually winning second place. That meant they would progress to the national finals to be held in Sydney. When the awards were presented to first, second and third place at the end of the day, Layla stood proudly on stage next to Peter, laughing quietly to herself, enormously relieved. She had made it to the national competition. She had proven that she belonged. She had made amends – kind of – with the boy who had caused her so much pain, and now, well, they were working together! They weren’t the happiest family, but they were now family. Her father beamed at her from the crowd, waving and taking photos on his phone. Almost everything had worked out. Alhamdulilah.

  Definitely not the way she expected, but isn’t that what life was about?

  CHAPTER 21

  THAT night at dinner, Layla recounted the drama of the day to her family. Baba helped by adding bits and pieces to the story. He also shared how they had bumped into Peter’s father, the chairman. It was just after the awards ceremony, when all the family members were gathering around the students.

  ‘Mr Cox!’ Kareem had said, with a strong handshake. ‘It seems my daughter saved the day for your team!’

  The tall, broad man looked at Peter, confused. Peter, resigned to the circumstances, relayed the story. ‘Yeh, Dad. We wouldn’t have got past the second round if it hadn’t been for Layla’s invention. And we probably can’t go to nationals without her either.’ Peter rolled his eyes, not totally excited by the situation. ‘I know it’s a drag, Dad, and I’m not joining any Layla fan clubs, but she is pretty good at what she does. She deserves the scholarship.’ Peter looked over at Layla standing next to him, with a strange glint in his eyes. ‘And I guess I shouldn’t be so mean to you. ’Cos it never feels nice when someone tries to put you down.’ Layla nodded sagely but didn’t reply.