Jacob – Past
I hear a horn outside the trailer and go to the window. Layla’s car is pulled up. Mom’s passed out on the couch again. I grab a blanket and pull it over her.
“I’m going to school, Mom. I’ll be back late tonight. I made you some dinner, it’s in the fridge.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me in a hazy sort of way.
“You’re a good boy, Jacob.”
She pats the side of my face, then turns away.
She has tears in her eyes.
I want to stay with her, but Layla beeps her horn again, and she’s going to wake up the entire trailer park. I grab my bag and head out.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I walk up to the car.
“I’m taking you to school. What does it look like?” She smiles, and it pulls me out of my head.
I open the passenger door and get in.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to see you before school.”
She leans over and kisses me.
“You not having a phone really sucks,” she says, pulling out onto the road.
“Tell me about it.”
She parks in her usual spot beside the cherry tree in the school lot.
Alex’s car is parked beside hers. He’s leaned up against the hood with Miles, Parker, and Amie.
“So…” she starts. She’s not looking at them, so she doesn’t see the way they’re looking at us. “Are we going to talk about what this is?”
I’m not looking at them anymore, either.
“What?”
She sighs and bites her lip, and it makes me want to kiss her again.
I lean in, pressing my palm to her cheek, but she puts her hand on my chest to stop me.
“Am I your girlfriend?” she asks.
“Do you want to be?”
“I’m asking if you want me to be your girlfriend.”
She lets out a breath.
“Why can’t you just say, Layla will you be my girlfriend?”
“Because that sounds lame.”
She laughs.
“No it doesn’t. It’s romantic.”
I roll my eyes.
“You’re impossible,” she says, still smiling. Then her mouth is on mine.
I pull away, our lips still brushing.
“Layla, will you be my girlfriend?” I whisper.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
She kisses me again, parting her lips, her tongue moving against mine, until there’s an annoying tap on her window.
She turns her car back on and rolls it down.
“Hi, Jacob,” Amie waves. “Have a good weekend?”
She wiggles her eyebrows at Layla, whose cheeks flush red.
“How’s the hangover?” Layla asks, changing the subject.
“Ugh, don’t. I’m never drinking again.”
Layla laughs.
I get out and shut the passenger door, walking with them down the path.
“I’d be careful around Alex today,” Amie tells her. “He saw your little PDA display, and he’s not okay.”
Layla looks at me and rolls her eyes. She touches my hand, lacing her fingers with mine, then gives it a quick squeeze.
We have different classes this morning, so I kiss her cheek and head in the opposite direction from her and Amie.
I take my assigned seat next to Parker in Mr. Wells class. He slides a sheet across to me. I get my pen and start filling it out, when I feel eyes on me.
I look up briefly to see Parker staring.
“What is it, Parker?”
He taps his fist on the table. “You don’t get it do you?”
I stop working out the equations and give him my full attention. “What don’t I get?”
“Alex likes Layla. He’s going to ask her out. So if you’re smart, you’ll back off, and maybe he’ll forget about all this.”
He picks up his pen again and starts scribbling on his own sheet.
“I guess I’m not smart.”
I finish writing down the rest of the answers and take my sheet up to Mr. Wells. I ask if I can leave class early. He takes a quick glance over the paper and nods.
I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder. As I head out, I glance back at Parker’s sheet and point to a question he’s working out wrong.
“That should be 8, not 14.”
He glares up at me.
I leave Mr. Wells’ class and make it to my locker just before the bell rings. I pull out the books I need for my next class and feel a familiar pair of hands wrap around my waist.
“You ready to do some financial planning, Mr. Evans?”
“You really want to win this thing, don’t you?”
“Yep.”
I close my locker.
“You can come to mine after school today. Rhett’s at practice until late, and I’ve spoken to my dad, he knows about the assignment, and he seems cool with it now.”
I doubt that, but I agree. I suppose I’m going to have to meet him sooner or later.
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I lean down to kiss her. It doesn’t last long because Mr. Chaplin interrupts us.
“You two. My office.”
He leads us down the corridor into his office, and I take the same seat I’ve been in a lot recently. At least this isn’t as bad as fighting or assault, as Mr. Chaplin likes to call it. Layla sits beside me. I’ve never had someone sit next to me in here before.
“PDA in the hallway, is it now, Jacob? And Layla, I expected more from such an outstanding student.” He lets out a frustrated breath.
“The rules of this school are very clear when it comes to public displays of affection.” He swallows. “I know, as teenagers, these feelings can sometimes be overwhelming.”
He opens a drawer and pulls out a stack of leaflets, handing a couple to Layla and some to me. I glance down. They’re about contraception.
Layla starts to giggle. I rub my hand along my jaw to cover my own smirk.
“Miss Hart, this is not a laughing matter.” Mr. Chaplin looks like this conversation is physically hurting him.
“I’m sorry,” Layla says, still laughing. “I just don’t understand how we went from kissing to you handing out leaflets with…” She flicks it open and laughs again. “Is that a condom, Mr. Chaplin?”
Mr. Chaplin is going as red as his tie.
“Miss Hart, can you please settle down?”
There’s a knock on the door, and his assistant peeks in.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Chaplin, but Owen’s been sent up by Mrs. Laine, he made her cry again, sir.”
Mr. Chaplin rubs his forehead and sighs.
“You kids are impossible. Get back to class. If I see you both kissing in the hallway again, it’ll be a detention.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Layla says.
“Thanks, Mr. Chaplin.” I leave the leaflets on his desk. Layla drops hers on top of mine.
“They are for you both to take home,” he mutters.
“We’re good,” I tell him. He glares at me. I go to take Layla’s hand and pause. “Is this forbidden too, or…?”
“Get out, Jacob.”
We make it into the hallway before we both start laughing again.
We arrive late to Mrs. Milton’s class. The rest of the class staring as we walk in together.
“Sorry we’re late, Mrs. Milton. We were in Mr. Chaplin’s office,” Layla tells her.
Her eyes widen. “Okay. Take your seats and start working on your business idea.”
Layla opens her notepad and flicks to the page we last worked on. I turn to get mine out of my bag when I hear something hit the floor.
“Drop something?”
Alex is standing next to her.
She picks her notepad up.
“So, you’re slumming it with him now?”
“I’m not slumming it with anyone,” she says. “Go back to your seat, Alex.”
“Are you coming to the game on Friday?” he asks.
“Of course, I’m cheering at it.”
“She looks good in that uniform, doesn’t she, Evans?”
“How’s your nose, Alex?” My hand curls into a fist.
I feel Layla’s hand on my thigh under the table.
He smirks and opens his mouth, about to say something else, when Layla calls out, “Mrs. Milton! Alex is trying to cheat!”
“Alex, get back to your desk!”
“I’ll see you on Friday, Layla.” He winks at her, then looks at me as he speaks. “Make sure you cheer for me, sweetheart.”
I really want to hit him.
Layla squeezes my hand.
“Don’t let him get to you. He’s not worth getting expelled over.”
He absolutely is worth getting expelled over, especially when he looks at her the way he does.
“Are you coming to the game on Friday?” she asks.
“I’m working at Harry’s Friday night.”
She looks disappointed.
“I’ll try to come if I can get off early.”
“The party is at mine after. If you can’t make the game, I’d really like it if you came to that.”
I don’t want to go to another party, but I nod and tell her I’ll try to make it.
When I see Alex look over at her again, I make up my mind.
I’m going.
***
Her dad isn’t home yet. We’ve been in her room for a few hours, and we’ve already worked out the financial side to our business plan. The app is being created by the school technicians, so for now, that’s all we can do.
She’s in the bathroom changing into a bikini. She gave me a pair of Rhett’s shorts. I try not to think about what his reaction would be if he saw me wearing his clothes, but I put them on, anyway.
We pass through the kitchen, and she slides open the large glass doors. Her backyard is nice, it’s lined with trees that back out onto a small woodland.
We jump into the pool. The water’s heated even though it doesn’t need to be. I haven’t been in a pool in years.
Layla swims over and splashes water in my face. I do the same to her. She wraps her arms and then her legs around me.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“How many girls have you been with? You know, in that way?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah,” she says, her cheeks a little flushed. I kiss her shoulder and then I look at her.
“None.”
She looks surprised for a second, then smiles. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
She grins at me.
“What about you?” I ask.
“Same as you.” She kisses me and then sighs.
“What is it?” I push her wet hair back from her face.
“I really like you, Jacob.”
“I really like you too, Layla.” I smirk, then grab hold of her, lifting her into the air and throwing her back down into the water.
She breaks the surface laughing and splashes water at me. I go to lift her again when I hear her name.
“Layla!”
We both turn.
It’s her dad.
Great.
“Dad.” Layla seems calm.
“Who is this young man?”
“I’m Jacob, sir.”
We go to get out of the pool.
I reach my hand out to shake his. He stares at me like I’ve just invaded his home and ignores the offer.
“He’s my boyfriend,” Layla adds.
Her dad looks perplexed. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“It’s new,” I try to save the situation. I need the man to at least tolerate me.
He clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “What’s your surname, Jacob?”
He’s piecing it together, and I don’t want him to.
“Evans, sir,” I answer anyway.
Realization flashes across his face. “You’re Greg’s boy?”
I nod.
“What’s for dinner tonight, Dad?” Layla asks quickly, grabbing the towels off the bench and passing one to me.
“Casserole.”
She looks at me. “Would you like to stay and taste the most disgusting dinner you’ll ever have in your life?”
I laugh. Apparently, that’s not the reaction Mr. Hart wanted. I drop my smirk.
“Yes, if that’s okay with you, sir?”
He nods, but his lips are drawn into a tight line. “You can use the guest room to get changed, Jacob.” He points to a room just off the pool.
“I’ll go get your clothes,” Layla says.
I cringe. They’re in her room. He looks at her like he’s disappointed, but she doesn’t catch it.
I take myself to the guest room. I don’t want to stand in the awkwardness another second than I have to.
Layla knocks lightly on the door. When she opens it, her dad is standing behind her.
“Do you need me to show you how the shower works?” she asks.
“The boy can figure it out, Layla.”
“Sorry,” she mouths.
I shower and get changed. I try not to take too long, but I haven’t had a hot shower in forever, and it’s hard not to linger longer than I should have.
Layla’s setting the table when I get out. I help her finish. I’ve never had a meal at a table like this before.
She sits down beside me. Her dad is at the head of the table. Rhett isn’t here, and I’m glad.
“Brace yourself. It’s terrible,” she warns. “I’m cruel for even making you eat it.”
“Layla.” Her dad uses that tone parents use.
I take a bite. It really is awful. I finish it anyway. I don’t want Mr. Hart to hate me. I want him to at least give me a chance.
“It’s nice, sir,” I say.
He grunts.
Layla leans in and whispers, “Liar.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, and not the good kind. Layla scrapes her fork around her plate, pushing the food from one corner to another.
“You’re too picky, Layla,” her dad says.
“I’m not picky. I know what I like, and what I don’t.”
He lifts her plate away along with his, then reaches for mine.
“It’s a school night. You should take your friend home.”
“I made key lime pie for dessert.”
I swear I see the man visibly deflate. I think I might be right there with him. As much as I want to try Layla’s key lime pie, I’d rather not sit here with him staring at me for another ten minutes.
He walks off into the kitchen and opens the fridge.
“I’ve never brought a boy home before. He’s probably adjusting to the idea of me dating,” she says quietly.
He returns with the pie and three plates. He passes the knife to Layla, who slices it and plates it.
I take a bite, and if I wasn’t already convinced Layla needs to open her own bakery, this seals it.
“So, Jacob.” Her dad puts his fork down. “How much longer does your dad have left to serve?”
I preferred the silence. I’d like to go back there.
“He got life in prison, sir.”
He clears his throat. “Do you visit him often?”
“Dad.” Layla looks uncomfortable.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, hoping if I can answer these questions once, he’ll leave it alone.
“No. I haven’t seen him in over two years.”
“Why not?”
I clench my jaw. I hate talking about this. “I don’t have anything else to say to him.”
His eyes narrow. “I see.”
He pushes his chair back and stands, not having touched his pie. He walks over to the trash can and throws it away.
“It’s getting late, Layla. You should take your friend home.”
***
We pull into the trailer park and she kills the engine. “I’m sorry about him.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You shouldn’t have had to answer those types of questions the first time you met him.”
“You don’t have to apologize for him, Layla. Dinner was nice.”
“You’re a liar.” She smiles.
I lean into kiss her goodnight, but it turns into us making out for half an hour. When her dad calls to check where she is, we finally say our goodbyes.
I close the front door and see Mom standing by the window.
“What are you doing with Mitch’s daughter, Jacob?”
“She’s my girlfriend.”
She scoffs. “Girls like her don’t date boys like you. You’re a bit of fun for her. A little rebellion against her dad, no doubt. But don’t delude yourself into thinking you mean anything to her.”
“She’s not like that.”
She lets go of the curtain, walks toward the couch, and picks up the bottle of whiskey.
“Oh, I know her type, and that’s enough to tell me all I need to know about her. Don’t be fooled, Jacob. Them and us? It never works. Best to know it now.”
She’s wrong.
Layla is nothing like them.