Jacob – Past
Layla came over to work on our presentation for the assembly tomorrow.
After an hour of working, we’re lying on my bed.
“Have you thought any more about college?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“What are you interested in studying?”
“I don’t know for sure yet. Maybe architecture.”
“You’d be good at that. Your drawings are incredible.”
“They aren’t that good.”
“Better than mine.”
“That’s true,” I smirk.
She elbows me in the stomach. “You’re not supposed to agree.”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t draw to save your life. Baking, now that’s a different story.”
“Stop trying to dig yourself out. The damage is already done.”
She sits up, then swings her leg over me. My hand falls to her lower back as she leans down to kiss me.
“You’re lucky you look this good,” she whispers against my lips.
I hold on to her waist and turn us around so she’s lying beneath me.
Her hands push into my hair, her blue eyes locked on mine. “I never want to be apart from you, Jacob.”
“You never will be.”
She smiles. “Promise?”
I smile back. “I promise.”
I kiss along her neck, and she lets out this soft little moan that turns me on.
“Please don’t make that sound, Layla.”
She bites her lip.
“Or do that.”
She starts to laugh, and I kiss her again, along her shoulder, up to her jaw, until my mouth finds hers. Her lips part, and I slide my tongue between them. She tightens her legs around my waist, and I swear, she’s going to be the death of me.
My bedroom door slams against the wall.
I move off her.
Mom stands in the doorway, arms crossed, looking at Layla with more judgment than I thought she was capable of.
Layla sits up.
Mom scoffs, then shifts her glare to me. “Where’s the Tylenol, Jacob?” There’s a sharpness in her voice I haven’t heard in a long time.
“It’s in the cupboard, beside the fridge.”
“I can’t find it!” Her body sways, she’s not standing still. She’s been drinking.
I stand up, and Layla does too, squeezing my hand tighter than usual. “I’ll get it for you.”
Layla doesn’t let go as we walk past her.
I open the cupboard. Mom stands across from us, eyes locked on Layla, glaring. She’s giving Mitch a run for his money.
“I’m Layla, Mrs. Evans. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Her voice isn’t as confident as usual. “Jacob and I were working on our assignment.”
“That was working, was it?” Mom snaps.
“That’s not, we weren’t, we were ju–”
“I’m not blind, girl.”
“Mom.” I warn.
She falls silent.
I find the bottle of pills, pull out a few, and pour a glass of water. Handing both to her, I watch as she takes them without a word, her eyes fixed somewhere beyond us.
“Don’t make me dinner tonight, Jacob, I won’t be home until tomorrow.”
I try not to think about what that means or where she might be.
“I’d say it was nice to meet you Layla, but I’m not a liar.”
She storms out the front door.
“She doesn’t mean any of that, she’s just…”
“It’s okay.” Layla wraps her arms around me and leans her head against my chest. “My dad doesn’t get it either, but they don’t have to, do they?”
“No. They don’t have to.” I kiss her forehead.
***
We sit beside each other in the assembly hall, packed with the entire school. Alex and Blair are in the middle of their presentation.
“We have to win. Look at their business plan, it’s got more holes in it than Swiss cheese.”
“Shhh.” Mrs. Milton shoots a disapproving glare at Layla.
I cough to cover my laugh. She’s even more competitive now we’re here.
There are some parents in the crowd that came for the presentation. Layla’s dad is in the audience. I asked Mom to come, but I can’t see her.
The audience claps, and Mr. Chaplin calls our names to the stage. Layla squeezes my hand. When Mr. Chaplin arches an eyebrow, she drops it.
“Right, sorry sir, no PDA, got it.” She salute’s him, and he rolls his eyes.
We plug in her laptop, and a large photo of the two of us kissing shows up on the presentation screen. She looks over her shoulder at Mr. Chaplin and mouths “sorry” before finding the app on her computer.
I start to speak. “When Mrs. Milton asked us to develop a product that would not only be cost effective to produce but make us a profitable sales margin, Layla and I started researching products. We wanted something that everyone could easily access, and more than that, want to use.”
Layla takes over. “We came up with the idea of a photo sharing app, mainly because I take an insane number of photos, and I need somewhere to store them. It’s simple in its design, you can like and share photos with your friend list.” She pauses for me to continue.
“It’s unique in that you don’t have to write long captions, you can just take the photo and share it instantly with your friends.”
“Now you’ll have your own online gallery to keep friends and family in the loop and stay social.” Layla smiles.
People clap, and Layla grins. If Mr. Chaplin wasn’t behind us, I would kiss her.
We take our seats and wait for the rest of the class to finish their presentations, and then we wait again for the crowd to cast their votes.
“Votes are in.” Mr. Chaplin begins to speak. “I want to say a massive well done to everyone in Mrs. Milton’s business class. Each of our students this year have spent ten long months working together on this project and I can tell they each put in a lot of hard work.”
“Not as much as us.” Layla whispers.
“I’m pleased to announce that this year’s winners are Layla Hart, and Jacob Evans. Congratulations.”
Layla screams. She jumps up from her seat like she just won a Nobel Prize and tugs on my hand.
She throws her arms around me, even though Mr. Chaplin is looking.
He shakes his head. She kisses me quickly, then pulls me back onto the stage.
The assembly hall crowd is still clapping. Mr. Chaplin shakes both of our hands.
“Well done, you two.” He hands us the winning envelopes.
Mrs. Milton makes her way over as the assembly hall starts to clear out. “Well done. I knew you’d work well together.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Keep it up, Jacob.”
I spot Layla’s dad making his way through the crowd. He smiles at her, then throws his arm over her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Lays.”
“I knew we’d win.” She grins at me, and I shake my head, smiling.
“I won’t be home for dinner tonight, Dad.”
“Why not?”
“Jacob and I have a celebratory business dinner to attend.”
Her Dad gives her a look.
“We’re going to Harry’s.” She clarifies.
“As long as you bring me home pizza and are back for curfew. That’s eleven, not one, Jacob.” He looks at me for the first time.
“Yes, sir.”
He gives me a curt nod, that’s an improvement. Maybe we’re finally making progress.
Layla holds up her envelope, waving it in the air.
“Pizza is on me tonight.”