17
Liam
Dex is a dead man. I specifically told him not to be here tonight. I’m trying to navigate this whole situation with Layla, and my clown of a best friend is not going to help anything by making a scene. I know I messed up not acknowledging that I knew her right off the bat. I can be an idiot sometimes. I froze, which is something I hardly ever do, but I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe she was standing in front of me, after all those years, looking like a damn dream. And when she didn’t seem to recognize me, I improvised.
Dex was there that night I spent with Layla. He was also there in the months after when I wouldn’t shut up about her, pined over her, and tried every way I could to find her. But I was only a teenager, and I didn’t know much about her life back home except that she lived in Sacramento. Yes, we talked all night, but it was more about emotional and philosophical stuff, rather than any specific details like addresses or phone numbers. How dumb could I have been? We were just two na?ve teenagers talking about the future and thinking they had everything mapped out. She was flawless in my eyes that night. And as the years went by and the memories started to fade, I realized she would always remain in that perfect, unchanged, and untainted bubble.
Until she showed up a few days ago. I recognized that face, those eyes, and those lips almost immediately. I just can’t believe she doesn’t remember me. I’ve always wondered if she tried to look for me too, or if she left and never looked back. The uncertainty almost drove me mad for a time.
“Dex, man. I told you not to be here!”
My best friend laughs at me. “What is the problem. When you called and said that girl from your teenage dreams was back at last, I had to come check it out for myself. Besides, I have absolutely nothing going on tonight, so, you’re my entertainment for the evening.”
“She doesn’t remember me. And I haven’t reminded her of it. It seems awkward to bring it up at this point.” I drag my hands down my face.
“How does she not remember you? You’re like, so dreamy, bro. She’s crazy,” he teases me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know man. It’s all been so surreal.”
“Oh man, you’re catching feelings already, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I admit. But the real answer isn’t maybe, it’s yes. I’ve barely spent any time alone with her, but I’m already completely captivated by the grown-up version of her. And somehow, I’ve already lured her into my life and gotten her attached to Jackson, which I’m not sure was the best idea, considering she’s leaving soon. But I can’t seem to stay away from her.
“Okay. Well, good luck with that…I mean, she’s not going to be here very long, is she?”
“No. She’s not.” I don’t care. Not right now. “Now stay the hell away from my table or I’ll be forced to tell the story of the mac-and-cheese incident from tenth grade.”
I leave Dex in the back, mouth hanging open, thinking there’s only about a fifty percent chance he’ll listen. I feel bad for leaving Layla there on such an awkward note, so I head back with one last warning look to my friend.
The sun is going to set soon, I realize as I make my way back to the table. Layla is sitting back, swirling her glass around and looking out the window.
“Hey. I’m sorry. I had to have a talk with my friend for a minute. He’s a bit of a goon, if you didn’t notice,” I explain to her.
She smiles softly but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s okay,” she replies.
Damnit.
We make our way through dinner with some light banter, but I sense her mind is elsewhere. Luckily, the sun is now setting, and it’s looking like it’s going to be a good show.
“Look,” I say, gesturing toward the water. The sun is just barely peeking out from behind the mountains next to the lake now, and with the light dusting of clouds in the sky, the colors of the sunset burst from behind them in brilliant shades of pink and orange. It sets the entire skyline and lake ablaze.
She stares for a long moment. “Wow,” she breathes. “It looks like the lake is on fire. And the sky.” She looks at me. “It’s breathtaking.”
I nod. “Best view in town.”
But I’m looking at her. The golden light seeps through the window, making her eyes glow a brilliant amber color. It’s in this very moment that it dawns on me how much I’m truly fucked.
She chooses tiramisu for dessert, which we share while we admire the sunset a little longer. The sun is almost gone now, the vibrant colors are becoming less intense, but what I’m feeling is not.
I pay the bill, despite Layla’s many protests about wanting to chip in, but eventually, she concedes. It’s completely dark and freezing out now as we make the short walk to my truck, and I offer my hand as she climbs in.
When I settle in the driver’s seat and crank up the heat and the seat warmers, I pause for a second, then look over at her. Her cute nose is pink from the cold and her hands are tucked under her legs. I take a deep breath, stare forward at the back side of the restaurant, and grip the steering wheel with both hands. I want to open up to her.
“I know you’ve been wondering about Jackson, so I’ll just tell you now,” I say.
“No…I…” she breathes softly beside me.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I want to tell you.” I take a breath. “Jackson’s mom was my sister.”
I feel her gaze on me, waiting in silence. When I finally look over at her, I notice the fearful look on her face, like she knows this story is going to hurt and she’s bracing for the impact.
“Lace was a few years older than me, and as my big sister, she was always looking out for me. We were really close.” I take a deep breath. I’ve healed a lot in the past few years, but it’s still difficult to talk about. “She married an awesome guy, Nick, and six years ago, they had Jackson. They were so excited, and they loved the crap out of him. We all did. I was so stoked to be an uncle. Then, three years ago…my parents were watching Jackson while Lace and Nick went out for a date night…”
I force my gaze away from the window to look over at her again. She’s frozen, but her attention is completely focused on me. A tear is already slipping from her eye. I turn my gaze away again.
“They were both killed in a car accident,” I admit softly. Though it’s been a few years and it’s gotten marginally easier to live with, telling it to Layla right now makes me almost crack for some reason.
I pause and then clear my throat. I manage to look over at her, and fuck, she’s losing it. Her face is now in her hands, and she’s silently shaking. I run a hand gently down her back, trying to comfort her, trying to help her get through it. It’s obvious she’s also experienced something traumatic that’s triggering her. I’ve been there.
“I’m sorry,” she manages through her hands, shaking her head.
“It’s…shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lay it all on you like that. I just, wanted you to know…”
“No. It’s okay,” she breathes. “I’m so sorry. About your sister and brother…and…poor Jackson…” she barely gets the words out. She takes a deep breath, pulling her head from her hands. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. She clears her throat and looks at me for a moment, then stares down at the center console. “I’m sorry. It’s just…my parents…they uh…they both died in a car accident last year too. It’s why I’m here…all alone…this was always their favorite spot, and I was trying to remember them…or something…”
Fuck.
I lean over and pull her into my chest. She lets out a whimper, then embraces me, wrapping her arms around me and burying her head there. She’s not shaking anymore, just breathing slowly and heavily, like she’s trying really hard to ground herself. I know what it’s like when the grief hits you out of nowhere. I have one hand firmly on her waist and one on the side of her head, holding her tightly to me. The center console wedged between us digs into my side, but I barely notice.
“Jackson,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Poor Jackson.”
I simply nod.
We sit in the tight embrace for a while, the only sounds around us the purr of the truck engine and the whooshing air from the heater vents.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” I say softly into her hair. She nods into my chest and gives me a squeeze.
“Do you want me to take you home?” I ask. She pulls away and nods, wiping at her eyes and looking away from me.
I reach over and grab her hand, and she squeezes mine back. Our fingers remain intertwined the whole drive home.