3. Layla
LAYLA
“I’ll most definitely paint Henley’s Pup Portrait next month. Email me his photo, and I’ll be in touch.” Finishing up a client call, I schedule in the estimated start date.
Accomplishment warms me as much as the September Texas heat while washing my paintbrushes.
What started as a painting of my deceased childhood hound, Rosie, turned into locals asking me to paint their beloved animals––dogs, cats, chickens, bunnies, cows. Last week, I painted a gecko. Social media turned this into a full career, thanks to some viral video posts.
Now, I get to give back to the local community when someone adopts a pet. It’s a fun offering that Piper from the animal rescue center and I worked out.
My door flies open and the paintbrush drops, along with my heart.
“I’m here whether you’re clothed or not,” Karli sing-songs, walking into my apartment above a local downtown shop.
I try to catch my breath. “What if I was naked?”
“Please, we showered together until we were, what, thirteen?” Rolling her eyes, she takes her rightful place on a bar stool opposite the sink.
“Yeah, god forbid we’d stop our conversation for a moment during sleepovers.” It was to the point where Stetson questioned if Karli and I were more than friends, so we eased up on the no boundaries.
“One of these days, I’ll knock and leave some mystery.”
She’s the only person who ever visits me, so whether she knocks or not, I’ll always assume it’s her at my door.
“How was your flight back here?” I ask. “Was your week in Europe worth the jet lag?”
“Amazing! You’re coming with me next time!” As an influencer, she’s been on so many cool trips. “Don’t tell Parker you were my first stop.” She winks. “He has been deprived of me for over a week, and I desperately wanna ride him till the sun comes up tomorrow. But, I needed to see my best friend.”
“Go.” I giggle, waving her off. “I’ll see you in a couple hours for the Labor Day Fair anyway.”
“Stetson’s returning home at some point, but I haven’t heard from him.” My body tenses at the sound of his name, but I keep composure. I’ve listened to her updates about his championships, but as far as going out of my way to ask about him, I haven’t.
I shrug, thinking maybe I can get out of having to go to the fair if he might show up. “I took on extra projects, so I have no problem staying home if you want the whole night with Parker.”
Her eyes narrow on mine. “Not gonna fly, Layla. He left town over two years ago, and you two completely stopped talking. Did something happen?”
Distance and feeling used happened.
She’s never called this out before. Never questioned our goodbye. And I’m not about to start answering any of that now.
“We’re busy and didn’t keep in touch.”
“Mmhmm.” Why the interest now?
“I should do a bit more work before tonight.” Social crowds, especially in this small town, aren’t exactly my favorite unless I’m getting paid to be there.
“It’s Labor Day weekend. You’re taking the night off from work.”
“Go indulge in your brother’s best friend.
” I have no idea how Stetson took the news, but Parker and Karli have made a perfect match for nearly eight months now.
“Who knows how he’s gonna react to actually seeing you two together in person.
” They told him over the phone, so he’s had time to process.
Karli’s blue eyes light up––a feature both her and her brother have with their light brown hair.
“He didn’t seem pissed. Parker is a great guy.”
“Good,” I say simply, thinking about how I had wanted to keep Stetson and I a secret to not upset Karli. I wonder if she would be as supportive of us as her brother seems to be about her and Parker.
But then I think about whose side she would have taken if I was upset about how things ended?
She would’ve been the middle ground, happy for him, but unable to relate to my pain in losing him.
She couldn’t be mad at her brother for leaving everything to live a dream.
And neither could I. And for that, I’m glad I never shared what was going on between me and her brother.
“You’re zoning out. Have a coffee because you are going tonight, missy.” Karli stands, pulling me from my thoughts and skipping to the door. She’s always so damn cheerful. “It’ll be fun. Ever since you broke up with jerkface, you’ve enjoyed showing off your hot body.”
She looks at me seriously for a moment, and I see the sincerity there.
She knows how hard things were for me for a while.
What I’m most proud of over this past year is my self-worth.
Leaving behind toxic generational patterns and a horrible ex was like losing a thousand-pound weight from my shoulders.
I sigh, relenting. She’s right—I could use some fun tonight.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll see you there.” A few hours later, my outfit screams Fourth of July more than Labor Day weekend.
Staring at my white tank, cut-offs, and red cowboy boots, I look hot.
Brown curls frame my face, wispy bangs surrounding my smoky eyes.
The confidence a new haircut can give you is seriously underrated.
This new edgy look has doubled my social media views and following too.
Parking my car, I venture into the fairgrounds.
Blueish black hues mixed with vibrant deep orange in the sky are breathtaking.
A glowing patchwork of lights reflects off the rides as loud country music crackles through speakers.
The Ferris wheel stands proud as laughter and chatter float around me.
Dust kicked up by the crowds holds a hint of cattle.
Kettle corn and sweet funnel cakes mixed with fried chicken and smoked meat filter through the air.
Scanning the crowd of people for Karli, she’ll probably see me before her.
She has a creepy yet applaudable talent for lurking.
It’s not a massive fair, but my phone is at home where it spends most of its time.
With my hands on my hips, my eyes linger on the Ferris wheel.
It’ll be quickest to hop aboard and look for her.
“Good idea!” My heart flies to my throat as Karli grabs my shoulders. “We can watch and see which food stand has the shortest line by the end of our ride.”
Giggling, I link her arm with mine and tug us to the wheel. “You and your fried fair food.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Karli begins as we settle in the cart and take to the sky, “I loved the pastries in Europe, but there’s something so comforting about greasy carbs.”
I cringe. “I’ll pass. You know I can’t stomach fried food.” I probably won't make Texas proud with that one.
“You’re introverted ass would pass on everything outside of work if it weren’t for me.” True-ish.
“What’s wrong with loving my job?” Painting has been more of an escape at times. Doing what I love and being able to make money off it has been such a blessing.
“It’s Labor Day weekend, Layla. A holy time of rest.” Holy? Karli hits record on her phone for social media. “Hey, girlies! I’m on top of the world with OUR FAVORITE painter tonight!” She’s glowing, and I give the camera a smile and wink. She posts it to her story and holds her phone in her lap.
“I’m glad I came out tonight.” Karli smiles in approval.
“Good, because we are gonna enjoy the rest of the weekend I planned.” Since turning twenty-one a few months ago, she’s made sure to get me line dancing at the local bar once a week. But being in a small town means you can’t always avoid the people who make your skin crawl.
As the thought enters my mind, the wretched parasite known as my ex comes into view.
Fuck you, Clint. I stayed based on my past, knowing he wouldn’t leave me.
Pathetic. But Clint continued to tear me down, disguising it as constructive criticism.
When his drinking became too much, I called it quits. Plus, he was selfish in bed.
The day I left, freedom rang. Though he has a different side to that story.
“...and Parker, being the rational one—he thinks me buying a camel is unnecessary.” Karli’s mid-sentence as I tune back in. “But I know its social media would take off.”
“Exploiting a camel for money?” This girl has the most random ideas, but they’ve all been great financially. “Your parents’ ranch is already so full.”
“I could make it work, Layla.” She glances at the crowd before the wheel descends. “We need to hurry off. The funnel cake line is short for once!”
“You go,” I say as we step out of the cart. “Clint walked toward your next destination, and I’d rather not run into him.” Pausing, she wants to question me, but her one-track sweet brain lets it go. “We’ll talk later.”
Karli ventures off as the colored lights blur, and the hum of my surroundings fades into white noise.
A comfort settles in my chest as I aimlessly walk through the fairground.
The town traditions have remained the same for as long as I can remember.
Though I’m more introverted, they’re something I look forward too.
“Oh––” My muscles cement, realizing who I bumped into. I might be stiff, but I turn to leave. His hand grabs my forearm, grip tightening as my gut sinks. “Clint.” There’s a warning to my tone, glancing around at his scumbag friends.
“Your body’s still drawn to me.” Clint’s smirk twists my stomach. “I know it’s hard, but it’s time you move on unless you can live up to my expectations.”
“You were an inconvenient bump in the road,” I bite out as I pull my arm back, wincing as he digs his nails in deeper.
“Yet you keep coming back for more.” Alcohol strong on his breath has my stomach turning.
“Go to hell.” Pulling my arm away with more force, he pulls me against him. “Let me go!” There’s slight relief that we are in public because we are starting to draw attention.
“You’re a little moth to my flame, Layla.” I’d like to light him on fire. “You want me to take you back?” He sets me free with a small shove.
“Hey!” The voice coming from behind me turns my blood cold. “Don’t ever lay a fucking hand on her.” Stetson towers over us, somehow becoming more attractive over the years.
I hate it...but do I?
“Look who the rodeo washed up,” Clint coos. “Think you’re all tough after thrusting around on bulls?”
His friends snicker.
“Stay away,” I say, staying level and firm, but Clint takes a step closer. Every nerve is running tenfold through me, but I hold my composure. I hate that he still has this effect on me.
“You bumped into me,” he barks with a grin I wish I was strong enough to damage.
“Leave her alone,” Stetson growls. Their rivalry dates back to middle school. Clint treated women like shit and Stetson was always in trouble for shoving him out of the way. Though Clint seemed like a changed man when he decided to show interest in me...at first.
“All good, rodeo clown.” Clint lifts his hands and looks at me. “Trashy pussy isn’t my thing.”
“Son of a bitch.” Stetson grabs him by the shirt, retracting his arm, hand bent in a fist.
Gasping, I jump forward, wrapping my hands around his bicep. At least, that’s what I try to do with how much muscle is there. “This isn’t your battle.”
“The hell it is!” He lifts him higher as Clint balances on his toes. “This piece of shit doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”
“My dad’s the mayor.” Clint and his friends snicker. “Wouldn’t want him hearing about you picking a fight with me while I was minding my own business.”
“Grow some balls,” I mutter under my breath. “Always hiding behind daddy.”
“I love that you think about my balls.” Maybe it’s me feeding off Stetson’s testosterone, but while he has him hanging like a punching bag, my fist raises and decks Clint’s jaw.
Except he barely flinches because I’m too damn short.
“Just like your momma.” Clint chuckles with a wink. “Wanting it rough like a cheap whore.”
Arms pull me back, and Karli’s perfume hits my nose. Funnel cake powder clouds around us as her treat falls to the ground. Stetson throws a hard punch, blood splattering and dropping Clint like a sack of potatoes.
“Don’t even think about thinking of Layla.” Stetson turns to us, swipes a hand over his jaw, and looks at Karli. “Thanks for pulling her back, Sis. Nice to see you again.”
I’m not a child needing to be saved. Not anymore.
“I saw that punch coming as he ran that damn mouth of his.” Karli laughs. “Glad to have you back, bro.”
“I guess everyone will know you’re back in town by tomorrow.” I’ve never sounded so monotone. It’s criminal how angry yet turned on I am. Those jeans hugging his ass, the crisp white tee, the confidence, and a new tattooed bicep? This is going to be a hard battle to resist.
“Layla.” Stetson shakes blood off his hand. “Can we talk?
“Yeah, you can tell me to have a good night as I walk away and buy your sister another funnel cake.” Linking my arm with Karli’s, we turn. “Go wash your hands and change your shirt, Stetson.”
“Layla, please.” This time, I stop, turning around to pleading blue eyes. Like before, the urge to run into his arms tugs at my heart, but I stay strong.
“This has been a crazy night, and I want my brain to settle.” Stetson steps forward. “No.” I halt him, ignoring Karli’s look. “Goodnight.” With Karli’s arm in mine, we walk.
“What the hell was that about?” Karli asks.
“I’m shaken up. I’ll thank him for punching Clint later.” My voice breaks, allowing vulnerability with her. “Come on, the line is piling up.” She sighs, but nods.
“You gave me the rundown about you leaving Clint,” Karli begins.
“I know there’s more than what you’ve let on.
” She’s right. We tell each other everything, but I didn’t want to drop this heavy load on her entirely.
“I was ashamed of myself for getting into a bad situation. I didn’t want to admit things out loud.
” I found strength to leave and made peace with it.
“I left Clint because he was drinking and started getting physical. Becoming my mother was the last thing I wanted.” I keep my tone hushed as shame resurfaces.
“I held on to self-worth before he robbed me of it all.”
“Fucking bastard.” Karli shakes her head. “The breakup did you good. I swear it made you even hotter...not that you weren’t already.”
“I love my new hair and learning how to paint my face.” I giggle. Makeup became a newfound joy after Karli asked me to do hers in a social media video.
“Girl, your talent for blending colors and contouring has me wanting you to do my face every day now.” I’m thankful she jumped subjects, sensing that now isn’t the time to dwell on the past when we are supposed to be having fun.