by Eden Butler
“I remember. First pint.”
Sayo laughed. “First buzz too.” She shook her head, letting her smile fall a bit. “I mean, I just miss all of us being together. Autumn and Declan will be married before you know it and Mollie and Vaughn…”
“Are too busy with naked time to pay attention to the outside world…”
“Exactly.” Something seemed to come to Sayo then. She pulled Layla away from the sidewalk, near the alley that ran between McKinney’s and the cold sub shop. “I’m such a shit.”
“Not especially.” Layla waved her off, dismissing Sayo’s self-deprecating admission.
“I just realized that you and I are sort of odd women out. Our best friends are coupled off and you’ve been completely on your own while I’ve been… distracted this semester.”
“Sayo, no. It’s not a big deal. You have your family.” That quick glare was severe and Layla shrugged, silently apologizing for her small slip before Sayo could yell at her. “You know what I mean. I’ve been fine. I’ve been…”
“What? Finally getting hot and heavy with Donovan?” Layla should have expected the slight. It was their way—poke at the most ludicrous, the most offensive insult that could reap the loudest protest. Sayo didn’t have a clue what Layla had kept hidden from all of her friends these past couple of months, Layla was certain of that, but when the teasing jab caused her to gasp involuntarily, then stand there blinking with her mouth gaping open, she knew she’d given herself away.
And she knew suddenly, with a certainty, that there would be no lying to her friend. They knew each other too well. Not about anything this significant—and yeah, Layla falling into Donovan’s bed over and over again was the single most significant thing that had happened to her all fall.
“Oh my God. I was joking. I was… I mean, are you?” Layla couldn’t look at her. That guilt, the shame she still felt anytime she thought about being with Donovan came back heavy and she could only look down the sidewalk, avoiding the hard stare she felt Sayo leveling at her. A small gasp that matched the one Layla had just made and Sayo pulled her further away from the sidewalk traffic. “Honey, what the hell?”
“How did you find out?”
“I didn’t know.” She held up her hands, surrendering, promising that no one had outted her. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I just, I was just teasing because of the prank and Autumn told me he kept staring at you, touching you at Thanksgiving.” Sayo’s voice lowered and she sounded awed, amazed. “I was making a stupid joke, but… you and Donovan?”
They both paused, attention pulled toward the group of rugby players who had stopped near the musicians across the street. Layla absently scanned their faces, seeing the familiar smiles but not the one she knew best. Finally, with Sayo’s gaze back on her profile, Layla closed her eyes, inhaled deep to strengthen herself for the confession she was about to make. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Are you shitting me? It’s the biggest deal ever. Come on, Layla, I’ve been stuck around a horny Irishman and a bunch of sick kids and sad people.” She grabbed Layla’s arm, making her face her. “You have to give me details. Are you two…”
“No. God, no.” The denial should have been old hat by now. It certainly felt familiar since she’d told Mollie the same thing. And she meant it. At least, she thought she did. “It’s nothing like that at all. We’re just… enemies with benefits.” Layla shrugged her shoulders and moved her head in a weird half nod, half shake.
“Huh.” Sayo didn’t frown, and the tension that had shaken Mollie’s features that night on Joe’s patio didn’t come close to matching the mild humor on Sayo’s face. “I guess I lost the bet.”
Head tilted, Layla stepped back from her friend, automatically defensive. “What bet?”
“Oh Autumn and I have had an almost year-long bet going that you and Donovan would start with the naked time before you graduated.” Layla wanted to yell at her, but that smile returned, followed by a quick laugh and Layla determined she’d keep the mood light, give Sayo a reason to smile that night. She couldn’t hold on to her irritation. Layla would let her friend tease her and managed to not roll her eyes when Sayo’s smile widened and the beautiful Japanese girl’s face lit bright and happy as she continued to laugh. “I thought you wouldn’t do anything until he was off your father’s squad. Autumn will be so damn smug.”
Good humor or not, Layla stopped her. “Sayo, no, please. You can’t tell her. Please, I’m begging you.”
Suddenly, the air in her lungs felt thick and Layla grabbed onto Sayo’s arms, hoping that the worry in her eyes would make her understand how very bad it would be if Autumn learned the truth.
“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” she asked when Layla looked around them, eyes stretching over the crowd as she pulled Sayo close, fingers squeezing into her arms as though she would keep the blonde grounded on that sidewalk. “God, Layla, did he, he didn’t force himself on you, did he?”
“No.” Layla closed her eyes, shook her head as though that small movement would keep the memory of her and Donovan together from her thoughts. “God. Most time he gets me so worked up I’m this close to begging for it.” Sayo flared her nostrils and Layla cringed at herself for that admission. “I’m sorry. It’s very, um, well, it’s a lot hotter than I thought it would be, but honey, you can’t tell Autumn. Not yet. Please.”
“Layla… she’s my best friend…”
“I’m asking you to keep this secret for me.” The frown returned to Sayo’s face and Layla could tell she was annoyed that she’d put her in the position of keeping anything from Autumn. Layla was desperate, anxious about the redhead finding out. She loved Autumn, she really did, but God, the woman had a big mouth. Trying to keep herself from truly freaking out, Layla took a breath and folded her arms, blinking once before she spoke. “I’m calling in my favor.”
Those black eyes of Sayo’s grew round, and as soon as Layla noticed how quickly her friend’s features shifted, moving through surprise and shock, straight back to unguarded annoyance, she knew Sayo wouldn’t say a word to Autumn. She also knew that Sayo didn’t appreciate how dirty she fought. “Layla, we were seventeen.”
“Uh huh and you didn’t study because you were hung over from Leslie Anderson’s party. It was my mom that got that covered for you, remember and that test was the single most important one of your life. At least, as a senior in high school, and I caught so much shit for faking that seizure to give you a diversion.”
Sayo looked down, worked the tip of her boot into the cracks in the sidewalk. “I had to pass that test, Layla. It was the only time.” She looked back up at her, annoyed still, possibly hurt. “It’s the only time I ever cheated and Sister Allen was shit at remembering to lock her office. It was the only time I didn’t work my ass off in class and I’ve repaid that little karmatic screw up a thousand times.”
“I’m sorry. I feel shitty for asking, Sayo, but Autumn would tell Declan, you know she would.”
They watched each other for a moment, quiet, still and Layla only released her held breath when Sayo lowered her shoulders and grunted once. “Okay, she’d totally tell Declan.”
“Yep and he’d kick Donovan’s ass. It would be very bad.”
Sayo shook her head. “Last semester you would have paid money to see Donovan get his ass kicked and now you’re trying to avoid it. I knew you liked him.”
“I like how hard he makes me come, Sayo. I have zero problems with him getting his ass kicked, but Declan doing it would be damn inconvenient not only for the drama it would cause between our group but because my dad would bitch for weeks.” Layla closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking at the idea of her father’s loud, annoyed voice. “I hate when he does that. Besides, Autumn has her classes and Declan and Donovan have Conference coming up, the whole squad is stressed out and there is just too many stupid things that could happen if they find out about me and Donovan.” She took Sayo’s hand, hoping she’d made her see reason. “Just let it go for now.”
>
“Find out what about you and Donley?” Walter said, standing right behind Layla.
Layla let her head fall back, cursing her luck, cursing herself for having this conversation with Sayo out on a public sidewalk. Walter stood four feet from her, dressed in that stupid campus police uniform with his walkie talkie on his hip. She half expected him to be pouting when she turned toward him and had to force herself not to laugh at the scowl he gave her. He looked like a violently hacked off puppy dog.
“Walter, what are you doing here?”
“I know this shithole is your favorite place to get loud and drunk,” he said, nodding toward the pub behind them. Then, he touched her shoulder. She hated when he did that. It made her feel like a kid. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s going on between you and Donley?”
“That isn’t really any of your business.” Layla appreciated Sayo. She loved that she automatically came to her defense even when she was annoyed and frustrated by what Layla had asked of her.
But if Sayo hoped to be a threat to the over-tall, too lanky Walter, she failed miserably. He barely glanced at Layla’s friend, looked, in fact, like she was a distraction he couldn’t be bothered with. “Sayo, would you, um, give us a moment? Please? If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Woah,” Layla interrupted, grabbing Sayo’s wrist so she wouldn’t walk away. “I mind. She isn’t going anywhere.”
“Layla, please. I’m miserable here. I just need… please. I need you to answer my questions.” God, she hated how whiny he could be. His voice was too high, and those baby face features of his prevented her from taking him seriously even just a bit threatening.
Layla elbowed Sayo when the girl covered her laugh with a cough. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say it in front of my friend.”
“Well, I mean, that’s not… that is to say…” When Layla only stared at Walter, a small scowl shaking her top lip, he relented, but still attempted some semblance of confidence with the lift of her pointy chin. “Fine. I miss you, darling. And I think you’re being very… well, you’re being quite cruel. We expected you for dinner on Thursday and you just, I had to come up with a lie to explain why you weren’t there. God, Layla, I hate lying to my mother. She was quite upset that you weren’t with me on Thanksgiving.”
Wow. He’s completely serious.
“Hey cuckoo clock, did you not get the memo? I broke up with you.”
There were things about Walter that some women might find appealing. Maybe that he was an old-school gentleman. He opened doors, he paid for meals, he insisted on walking Layla to her door if they’d been out too late. Some girls might find all of that sweet, a bit endearing. But Layla had always seen behind the surface. He did those things because he felt it was what he was supposed to do. But none of it was done out of some fierce need to pamper and protect her. He did all of those things like they were burdens he’d have to suffer through if he wanted to be with Layla. It had always made her feel guilty.
“Don’t you think that maybe you’re being quite melodramatic? I want you to come to your senses.”
“Is he for real?” Sayo asked, not bothering to keep her voice quiet.
“I think he might be?”
Just then the pseudo kind, gentle Walter Layla had known for six months completely disappeared. He stomped right in front of Layla, nostrils flaring and teeth gritted as he grabbed Layla’s arm. His long fingers pressed down and though she tried pulling out of his grip, she couldn’t break from that tight hold. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right in front of you.”
Layla felt her breath catch at his instant anger and she tried to step back, too shocked to put up much of a fight when he jerked her again, pulling on her and Sayo acted immediately, taking Layla’s free arm. “That’s enough, Barney Fife. Back the hell up.”
“Shut up!”
“You did not just tell her to shut up.” She turned to Sayo and both girls tugged against Walter’s grip until he stumbled back and released her arm. “Did he just tell you to shut up?”
“He did. If I wasn’t a fucking lady, I’d slap him.”
Layla wasn’t typically a violent person. Her father had made it priority number one for Layla and all of her friends to know how to protect themselves, to know that violence was the last resort when reason and logic could not stop conflict. Walter glared at her, and just then, Layla realized he didn’t have a baby face at all. He wasn’t even mildly attractive to her and she knew if she didn’t stand up to him—stand up and mean it—then he’d never leave her alone. Besides, no one tells her friends to shut up. That was her job.
She didn’t think, really, still too shocked by the complete disappearance of whiny, passive Walter as he charged toward her. A threatening growl left his mouth and the exhausting, nagging training her father had given her kicked in. Walter staggered back, grabbing his foot when Layla stomped on it, and when he swung out, caught her cheek with his flailing hand, she released some weird roar that sounded shocked and pissed off and utterly mental.
Then, she hit in hard, directly on the nose.
“Shit. Ow,” she said, shaking her hand out when the quick throb in her knuckles pulsed hard.
“Closed fist, dufus. Your dad is gonna yell at you for that one. Is it broken?” Sayo took Layla’s hand, glanced at it as both girls watched Walter cup his nose to catch the bright red blood that dripped out of it.
“You hit me! That’s assault.” Walter reached for his cuffs, the only equipment he had that made him look even remotely like a real officer and Layla laughed at him, at how graceless his movements had become and how serious he seemed about cuffing her.
“We aren’t on campus and I didn’t just get a parking violation. You think you’re gonna cuff me?” Both Layla and Sayo jerked out of Walter’s grip when he grabbed for her.
And then, there came disaster. Or a demon, depending on Layla’s mood.
“Layla?”
“Awesome. Just perfect.” Layla rolled her eyes at Sayo when that giddy gleam made her black eyes shine. Sayo always did love to watch a nasty fight.
Donovan had come too late if he’d meant to play hero. Walter was already bleeding, was seething mad as his attempts to grab Layla had failed. But Donovan jogged toward them nevertheless, and stood between Layla and Walter as though he intended to buffer any more of Walter’s threats.
“Is he bothering you?” Donovan asked over his shoulder as he held his arms at his side and his fists white knuckle tight.
“Perpetually, but I popped him.”
“You… you mind your own business, Donley.” It was hard not to laugh at Walter’s threat, especially when his words were muffled by blood and what was probably a clogged and swelling nose.
Donovan stepped up to Walter, stretched his shoulders and they seemed larger, broader, some weird technique all men must be taught when they are punks angling to learn the best way to look like a mean asshole. “Oh, I am minding what’s mine, motherfucker. Back off.”
Layla didn’t have time to really register what Donovan had said. Flippantly, she understood that it was all talk, that he was trying to rile Walter so he’d make a move. She dismissed how possessive he sounded just then and tried not to think about how his words had made her stomach twist and kindled a goofy warmth of pleasure in her chest.
Walter hesitated for just a moment, and then his temper broke. He wiped blood from his nose and rushed Donovan just as Sayo pulled Layla away from them, not letting her step in to stop the fight before it started. The two men commenced in throwing punches at each other, lunging and pushing each other around the sidewalk, and up against McKinney’s large front window.
And because Cavanagh was tiny and the testosterone epidemic on the squad and among the male student body had never been eradicated, the crowd around them grew to obscene levels, made up mostly of antagonizing, eager men who offered advice through their grunts and pleased growls to both Donovan and Walter.
“Dude. Two guys are fighting over
you,” Sayo whispered and despite the stupidity of it all, and that base, ridiculous voice in Layla’s head telling her this was like, so very hot, damn, Layla laughed.
Walter, surprisingly, managed to clock Donovan once on the chin, sending him stumbling backward and Layla yelped when he fell against the brick wall and scraped his face on it.
“Oh, that’s it, asshole,” he told Walter, walking toward him slow and confident as he spat once on the ground, flinging the blood from his face. That small spot of red on the sidewalk did something to Donovan; something wild and primeval moved into his eyes and he charged Walter, who barely managed to get his hands up before Donovan hit him, twice on the chin and once on Walter’s already swollen nose.
It had lasted barely two minutes and already Walter was on the ground, covering his nose, wailing and hyperventilating, before Donovan squatted next to him and jerked him into a sitting position by his collar.
“See that woman, Rent-a-Cop?” When Walter didn’t respond quickly enough, Donovan yanked his collar again, forcing a nod from the downed man. “She’s off limits to you. You see her on campus, in town, any fucking where and you so much as look in her direction, I will fucking end you. You feel me?”
“Fine,” Walter said, though it came out as “finb.” And then, “Whatever.”
Donovan stood, his body lithe and tense, looking like he wanted to kick Walter just to take that pouty look off his face, but Layla stopped him, pulling on his wrist.
“He’s not worth it, Donovan.”
He jerked back from her and she retreated, pulled her hand off his arm when she spotted that his lethal anger had not yet abated, and saw the blood along his cheek and on his knuckles. She sighed, remembering herself, not really eager to let Donovan see her worry. “You okay?” Donovan didn’t speak, seemed unable to do much more than stare at her, heaving, still jacked up. Then a comprehension came to him, and something like chagrin spread over his features, like he couldn’t believe he’d come to her defense.
