by E. D. Brady
Julie started the car and turned to face her friend. “Girl, he is into you.”
“Who?” Layla questioned.
Julie rolled her eyes impatiently. “Jay,” she replied. “Who else would I be talking about?”
“No, he isn’t,” Layla argued, but the suggestion made her smile despite herself.
“Oh, come on!” Julie blurted out. “Are you really that blind? Did you not notice the way he was looking at you after English class? Oh, my God, what will you do if he tries to kiss you tonight?”
“Would you stop it?” Layla scolded. “He’s just being nice to me to make things more pleasant since we have to spend time together.”
“Whatever makes you feel better,” Julie said with a sigh, “but just be prepared. And don’t say I didn’t warn you; he is going to try to lock lips with you before the night is over.”
Layla felt her heart flutter a little, but then her more rational side took control. There was simply no point in getting her hopes up. Even if Jay Logan was attracted to her, the guy was so aloof and detached. He seemed the type that was just too cool to ever truly open up to anyone, and Layla was not really interested in getting her hopes up only to have her heart broken.
As soon as Julie pulled into her driveway, Layla bolted out the door, telling Julie she’d call her later with details.
She walked straight for the kitchen, throwing her school bag on the usual dining room chair as she passed. “Hi, sweetheart,” her mother called out as Layla pulled a diet soda from the fridge.
“Hi, Mom,” Layla answered, walking over to place a kiss on her mother’s cheek.
“How was school today?” Cheryl questioned.
“Good. Listen, I’m going out tonight,” Layla explained. “I have to meet a classmate to work on an English project.”
“Will you be having dinner here?” her mother asked.
“If it’s ready before six,” Layla replied. “He’s picking me up at seven.”
“He?” her mother echoed.
“We’re just working on a project. Honestly, Mom.”
“Is he cute?” Cheryl pushed.
“Very,” Layla said, smirking, “but it’s really not like that.”
“Fine,” her mother said, holding up her hands. “Don’t tell me.”
“There’s really nothing to tell,” Layla responded. “I wish there was, but it’s honestly just a school project.”
After an early dinner with her mom, Layla ran upstairs to change. She chose a pair of faded jeans, complete with stylish holes in the knees and thighs, and a long-sleeved, yellow T-shirt. She applied a tiny bit of mascara and rubbed a dab of lip-gloss across her lips.
“You look really cute,” Cheryl said, eyeing her daughter suspiciously. “Just a boy, huh?”
Layla laughed. “It’s just a tiny bit of makeup,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Whatever,” Cheryl replied. “Be home by eleven.”
“Got it,” Layla said, nodding once. She hurried out the door to see Jay’s car parked at the curb at the foot of their garden. He was standing outside, leaning up against the passenger door facing away from her house; his arms folded casually across his chest.
“Hi,” she called out as she hurried down the driveway.
He turned to face her, a smile spreading across his face. “Hi, Layla,” he said, opening the passenger-side door for her.
“Thank you so much,” Layla said sincerely.
She climbed in and noted an otherworldly, almost heartbreaking whirr of a bluesy electric guitar—the kind of sound that touches deep in your soul and makes you want to cry for no known reason. She turned to Jay questioningly.
“I thought I’d put on a little Led Zeppelin for you. It’s called Tea For One from the Presence CD, which is probably their least famous.”
“It’s so sad or something…” Layla said reflectively. “Can an instrument really sound sad?”
“If it’s played right, I suppose,” Jay said, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, smiling, yet she could feel her face heating up.
“It’s moving, but a lot of people don’t get it,” he said, smiling back at her. “You feel like it’s touching you on the inside, right?”
“That’s exactly how it feels,” she replied quietly.
He continued to gaze at her with a strange expression for a brief moment, then he looked straight ahead and started the car.
After less than ten minutes driving, Jay pulled up in front of a beautiful, white, southern-style house complete with wrap-around porch adorned with a large, white, wooden swing.
He fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, ushering Layla in before him. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.
Oh boy, this was awkward.
“Sure,” Layla replied.
“Coke?” Jay questioned.
“Diet?” Layla responded.
“Sure thing,” he said, chuckling.
Layla walked into a living room that was decked out with a sixty-five inch flat-screen TV, and a caramel colored leather couch and love seat. There were many strange foreign looking ornaments around the room, but they blended perfectly into the décor, giving the room an ultra-modern flare. “This is lovely,” she said, not bothering to hide how impressed she was.
“Thank you,” he replied, handing her a can and a glass of ice. “So do you have any ideas?” he asked.
“Pardon me?” she said, confused.
“In regards to our project,” Jay answered.
Layla laughed, realizing that she had forgotten her main reason for being there. “How about Dante’s Inferno?”
Jay scrunched up his face, gesturing for her to have a seat on the couch. He sat down next to her. “The Divine Comedy,” he said, looking none too thrilled. “Written in the early thirteen hundreds and printed in 1555 by Gabriele Giolito d’ Ferrari,” he added with obvious distaste. “I hated it when it was first…when I was first introduced to it.”
“Oh,” Layla huffed. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows?” he answered bluntly.
Layla laughed. “Be serious,” she scolded.
“Oh, believe me, I was,” Jay said, smirking at her.
“While I don’t doubt that fifty years from now that will be considered a classic, I don’t think it is at the moment.”
“Then we’ll be avant-garde,” he answered, cocking his eyebrows playfully.
Layla swallowed hard. Good heavens, he was gorgeous.
“I think Schultz wants a specific kind of classic, y’know?” she answered. “Besides, I love Dante.”
“Over-rated,” Jay bit back. “Most of the so-called classics are.” He laughed at Layla’s horrified look and held up his hands. “Or maybe I’m just jaded by them,” he amended. “Maybe I’ve just read them all too often.”
“How often have you read them…?”
The conversation went from books, to hobbies, to former homes and experiences. Before Layla could even begin to register that time had slipped by, she and Jay had spent three hours in deep conversation.
Like her, Jay had recently moved there from up north, Danbury Connecticut to be exact. He explained that his first home had been Miami, Florida, but that he had moved around a little due to his father’s work, which had something to do with computers. Like her, he was an only child. And like her, he kept only a small circle of very close friends.
When they finally realized that they’d lost time in their ramblings, it was almost time for Layla to leave.
“I’m so sorry,” Jay said. “I’ve wasted your whole night.”
“No, not at all,” Layla insisted. “It was really fun.”
“Yes, it was,” Jay said, smiling. “But about this project…”
“We have a few weeks,” Layla said, shrugging.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Jay asked then immediately shook his hea
d. “I’m so sorry; I don’t mean to hog your whole weekend, and you probably have plans.”
“Apart from sitting in front of Julie’s TV…not really,” Layla admitted.
“Will she mind if I steal you again for the night?” Jay asked with a sly grin.
“She’ll be fine with that,” Layla replied.
The conversation continued in earnest all through the short drive to Layla’s house. When Jay pulled up in front of her driveway, she turned to say goodbye. “Thanks for a really nice evening,” she said sincerely.
Jay nodded and climbed out of the car. He walked around to the passenger door and opened it, holding out his hand to help her up. “I had a really nice time,” he replied, looking down at her. “Good night, Layla. Same time tomorrow?”
“Sure,” she responded then turned to walk up the driveway toward her house.
Chapter 3
Layla climbed into the passenger side of James’ car. As they drove through their neighborhood, she smiled at the festive Halloween décor adorning the landscape. Pumpkins, bats and friendly ghosts hung in abundance from every house they passed. That had been something she missed growing up in an apartment. If she ever had kids, she thought, this was the kind of neighborhood she’d want them to grow up in, a neighborhood where they could ride their bikes in the street, assured that the neighbors would notice if anything dangerous was happening, a neighborhood that also celebrated holidays to the extreme for the sake of the children. She wondered what kind of man she’d eventually marry. And then a vivid picture of Jay flashed in her mind, and she found herself smiling. ‘Stop being ridiculous,’ she scolded herself inwardly. Sure, they had a good time the night before, but he hadn’t exactly promised his undying love. Still, he did seem eager for her to return the following night. She swooned just a little as she remembered his perfect smile, and the way his razor-stubbled face gave him a breath-taking manliness.
“What?” James asked, staring at her from the side of his eyes.
“Um?” Layla breathed, turning to face him.
“What’s with the girly grin?” James asked. “Or a better question might be: who’s the guy?”
“What do you mean?” Layla questioned. She turned to look at him and noticed his boyish, handsome features animated. With his short, brown hair cut stylishly, and his button-down, denim shirt worn casually over tan khakis, he looked more like a preppy college student than a man of science.
“Layla, I may not be the most observant guy in the world, but I know what it means when a girl sports a smile like that. So who is he?” he asked.
“Just a boy from school,” she replied. Oh great, was she really that obvious?
“Good guy?” James questioned.
“I think so,” she answered. “I don’t really know him that well, though.”
“When do we get to meet him?” he pushed.
“I don’t know if we’re at that stage, or if we’ll ever be at that stage,” she answered.
“Alright, then,” he responded, giving her the sideways ‘yeah right’ look.
When they arrived at the car dealership, Layla made a bee-line for a yellow Volkswagen Beetle. “Look how cute this is,” she gushed.
James walked around the car a few times, acting like he actually knew what to look for. “This is the one you want?” he questioned.
“Well, we just got here,” she answered. “I suppose I should look around a bit.”
They spent an hour and a half looking around the various cars for sale before James looked at Layla and raised his eyebrows. “Well?” he asked.
“We don’t have to decide today, do we?” she questioned.
“I was under the impression that you were desperate for a car,” he answered.
“Yeah, but I can wait another week or two,” she responded. “At this point, another couple of weeks will hardly make a difference.”
“If you want the Beetle—”
“No, it’s cute, but I don’t want to jump on the first car I see,” she explained.
“Okay,” he answered. “But in the meantime, I’ll have my mechanic come over here and check it out, just in case you don’t find anything else.”
“Alright,” Layla agreed.
As they walked back to James’ car, Layla’s phone rang. “Hey, Julie,” she said, putting the phone up to her ear.
“What time am I picking you up tonight?” Julie asked.
Oh crap! She’d forgotten to call Julie to tell her the change of plans.
“I rented some movies,” Julie added, “and got rid of my mom and dad for a while. They’re going out to a party at their friend’s house.”
Layla did a little super-fast thinking. “Would you mind if I don’t come over until around nine?” she questioned.
“Yeah, no that’s fine,” Julie answered. “I’ll get you at nine.”
“I have to stop over Jay’s house for an hour or two, so I’ll ask him to drop me off,” Layla explained.
“So I’m being blown off for Jay Logan?” Julie said playfully.
“Just for a little while,” Layla responded, hoping that would appease her friend.
When they arrived home, Layla gave her mother a full run-down of her experience at the car dealership over a cup of coffee then ran upstairs to gather her laundry and to complete her math homework before getting ready to see Jay again.
His text came at five minutes past seven to tell her he was waiting outside her house. She ran out and smiled, noticing that he already had the passenger-side door open. She climbed into the car and adjusted her seat belt.
“How did it go today?” he asked as he turned the key in the ignition. “Any luck?”
“The only car I saw that I liked was a yellow Volkswagen Beetle,” she explained.
“You would look cute driving a Beetle,” Jay replied.
Layla giggled. “I don’t know about that. Anyway, I decided to wait a while and look around more. Julie says she likes driving me to school every morning. She claims it gives us time to talk before first period, so I don’t think I’m putting her out of the way too much.”
“Has James given you a price limit?” Jay questioned.
Layla was impressed by the way Jay remembered James’ name. She assumed that meant that he’d actually absorbed most of their conversation the previous night. Sometimes boys could be lame in that regard, but obviously not this one. “No, but he really can’t even if he wanted to,” Layla answered. “Half of his company belonged to my dad, so that part is rightfully mine and mom’s.”
“Ah, right,” Jay responded, nodding. “Listen, Layla, anytime Julie can’t drive you to school, I’d be more than happy to. Don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”
“Thank you,” she answered. “Oh, that reminds me,” she said, turning to face him. “I forgot to tell Julie that I was going to your house tonight, and she went ahead and rented movies and stuff for us, kind of made a big deal of me sleeping over.”
Jay raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Do you think you could drop me off at her house around nine?” she questioned.
“Absolutely,” he answered.
When Layla walked into his living room, she spotted a pile of books sitting on the coffee table.
“I thought I’d get the ball rolling,” Jay explained.
Layla sat on the floor and began to scan the pile. He had at least two dozen books set out, one on top of the other, ranging from David Copperfield, Ulysses, War and Peace, The Three Musketeers and many others, but nothing that grabbed Layla’s attention. “No female authors?” she questioned, looking up at him.
“On the bottom,” he answered with a smirk.
Layla grabbed the very last book off the coffee table. “Harry Potter!” she said with a giggle.
“I thought I’d try to slip that in there,” he answered, laughing. “It’s written by a female, isn’t it?”
Layla was mesmerized by his smile for a second. She shook her head to compose herself.
“
What?” Jay questioned, looking down at her.
“Nothing, just thinking about this pile of books,” she lied.
He sat on the floor next to her as they debated the possibilities, the conversation straying to different subjects from time to time until they coaxed it back to the job at hand. Within what seemed like only moments, it was eight forty-five and Layla had to leave.
As Jay pulled out of his driveway, he shot her a sideways glance. “I think it was a mistake for Schultz to put us together for this project,” he said with a grin.
“Why?” she asked.
“I’m having too much fun with you to concentrate on the stupid thing,” he answered.
Layla laughed, delighted by the compliment.
“So when should we get together again?” he questioned.
“Well, tomorrow is Halloween, and I have to hand out candy,” she responded.
“Cute,” Jay mumbled. “I envy those lucky little kids in your neighborhood.”
She shot him a questioning look.
“They get to have a pretty girl like you handing them treats.”
Layla replayed every word of their conversation to Julie, who sat patiently, listening to her friend prattle on excitedly.
“Wow, I’d say someone’s been bitten by the love-bug,” Julie blurted out.
“No, I haven’t,” Layla answered. “I’m just telling you what happened. You did ask.”
“Layla, my friend, you’re practically bouncing out of your skin!”
Was she?
She sat silently, watching Julie put a disk in the DVD player, the latest romantic comedy, happily-ever-after mush-fest that Layla secretly loved. She knew that real life wasn’t really like that, that the handsome boy next door was never going to turn out to be a prince in disguise, eager to sweep the girl off her feet and take her to his far away castle. But it was ninety minutes of easy escapism. In real life, things like that just didn’t happen. Those over-the-top love stories just weren’t real. She was too sensible to believe otherwise, which was why Julie was wrong; she was not bouncing out of her skin. She had everything fully under control.
