Jacob – Past #2
“He’s an asshole.”
She laughs. “Yeah. He is.”
We sit back down on her bed and open the laptop, shifting our focus to researching local companies.
Layla had the idea that we could volunteer for a day to get insight into how apps are developed.
Then we’d use the school’s tech team to help build it.
There’s nothing in the guide Mrs. Milton gave us that says we can’t.
She finds one that looks promising and dials the number.
The second they pick up, her posture straightens.
She starts talking, confident at first, but then she pauses, her cheeks flushing bright pink.
Without saying goodbye, she starts frantically clicking the end call button.
Once. Twice. Over and over like it’ll erase the whole interaction.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I think… it was the wrong company.”
I type the name she called into the laptop, and the first result makes me laugh. It’s an app designed for cheating on your spouse. Mrs. Milton would have a heart attack if we volunteered there.
Layla peers over my shoulder, then bursts out laughing. “I think she thought I was someone’s wife trying to catch her husband cheating.”
We’re laughing so hard we don’t hear her front door open downstairs. We don’t hear the footsteps on the stairs. We don’t realize we aren’t alone anymore until someone clears their throat.
I stop laughing. Layla’s still giggling, and it’s making me want to laugh again, even though I know I shouldn’t.
“Layla.”
Rhett is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on me.
“You’re back early. I made pancakes for dinner.”
“I can’t have pancakes. You know that. What’s he doing in your room?” Rhett says, like it’s her problem what he eats, like he can’t cook for himself. Then he spits the last part out with disgust.
“Okay. What do you want then? I can get sushi on the way home. And Jacob’s my new business partner. It’s a school assignment.”
“Get it from Jorah’s,” he says, pausing before adding, “Ask the teacher to change your partner. I don’t want thieves in our house.”
I stand up and start putting my books back in my bag. I want to get out of Layla’s house as fast as possible, but Rhett’s blocking the door.
“I’ll work with who I want to.” She pushes past him, but he grabs her arm. She flinches.
“You’re hurting me, let go.”
“Get out of my house!” he spits at me. She struggles to break free, but he tightens his grip, digging his fingers into her arm.
“Let go of her.”
He laughs, dark and bitter. “You hear that, Layla? He comes into my house and starts giving me orders. You give someone like him a glimpse into this life, and before you know it, bang!” He shouts, voice rising. “You’re as dead as that woman his dad killed.”
“Let me go, Rhett.”
He presses down harder.
I lose control, grabbing him by his shirt and throwing him up against the wall.
“She said let go!” I release my hold, and as soon as I do, his fist connects with my jaw. I feel Layla’s hand grab mine, and we bolt.
She reverses onto the street and starts driving. Her hands are shaking, and red marks are already blooming on her forearm where Rhett grabbed her.
She pulls over to the side of the road beside the gas station, throwing the car into park. For a second, she just grips the steering wheel, like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“I’m so sorry, Jacob. What he said I–”
“Has he hurt you before?”
“No. He’s never done anything like that before.” She rubs her arm.
I reach over, and she lets me look. “It’s going to bruise. You need to get ice on it.”
I open my door and start walking toward the store. It takes her a minute to catch up. The bell chimes as we walk in. Heather’s behind the counter.
“Hi, Layla.” She doesn’t even glance at me.
I head to the freezer, grab a bag of frozen vegetables, and press it gently to Layla’s arm.
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
At the register, I point to the bag so Heather can ring it up. I pull out my wallet. I’ve got three dollars and ninety-two cents left.
“Oh my, what happened?” Heather asks.
“I fell,” Layla says, laughing it off.
I stare at her, surprised at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue.
“Ouch. That must have hurt.” Heather sucks in a breath. “That’ll be a dollar twenty-eight.”
I hand her the change and we leave.
Back in the car, we sit in silence. Layla shifts the bag of vegetables, then winces. “My arm’s getting cold.”
“Keep the ice on it.”
A beat of silence stretches between us before I ask what’s really on my mind.
“Why did you lie?”
“I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, could I?”
She hands me the ice. “For your face.”
“I’ll be fine. Keep it on your arm.”
“But it’ll bruise.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been hit. And Rhett doesn’t punch that hard, anyway.”
She stares at me. “Rhett’s hit you before?”
“So have half of your little football friends.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “The same reason Rhett doesn’t want me in your house.”
I open the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait!” She grabs her phone, “What’s your number?”
“I don’t have a phone, Layla. I’ll see you at school.”
I close the passenger door and start walking home.