Finding Laila: Some Changes are Necessary Page 3

  “Public displays of affection,” he laughs.

  “PDA, Joey. It’s called PDA. And what, I can’t kiss my friends on the cheeks?”

  “Who kissed what, where?” Braxton asks as he emerges from the bushes.

  “Lai.” He points at me. “Kasey, Samantha, and Cooper were talking about her, so she decided to make things better for herself by—”

  “Kissing all of us,” Cole finishes for him as he hops off his mountain bike.

  “What the hell, Lai?” Braxton looks at me with wide eyes.

  “You heard him. I just gave them something to talk about.”

  “Yeah, more to say about you,” Cole scoffs.

  “What was she supposed to do?” Haden asks, causing all of us to turn in his direction. “The way I see it, they’ll say something whether she defends herself or not. I’m glad you stood up for yourself. As unconventional as it may have been.”

  “Thank you, Haden,” I answer sweetly with a smile. “At least he gets it. Why are you on my case?”

  Braxton walks over and puts his arm over my shoulder. “You know we don’t like people talking about you.”

  “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Right?” The four exchange looks between themselves before finally looking at me. “Need I remind you, I have kicked all of your asses at some point in our twelve years together.”

  “One time, Nixon. You took me down one time when we were ten,” Cole bellows.

  “Yeah, she got you good,” Joey starts teasing him.

  “What? I was sick,” Cole protests with narrowed eyes.

  “Sick?” Joey quips. “The only thing you were sick from was the beating you took from Nixon the Vixen here when she busted your lip for grabbing her ass.”

  “Hey now.” Cole throws his hands up defensively. “I saw some guy do it on TV and the chick loved it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure this chick would bust your lip again if you tried it,” I scowl.

  The five of us walk over to the pile of rocks on the other side of the pond. We attempted a rock fort some time back, but after one day of shuffling the things around, we gave up. It was too much work and there were so many other things we wanted to do. They have stayed where we left them and now serve as our makeshift seating area.

  “So anything new and exciting going on?” I ask of no one in particular.

  “Coach got on my case for the fumble at the game,” Braxton says. “He keeps talking about the college scouts, but at this point I’m just trying to get through the semester. It’s been almost a month and I can barely keep up.”

  “Dude, what do you need help with?” Joey, our resident geek, asks. By the end of our senior year, he’ll go into college as a sophomore.

  “All of it?” Braxton answers as though it’s a question.

  “What day is the best for tutoring?” Joey asks.

  “I guess Mondays,” he shrugs.

  “All right, I have one other person I tutor on Mondays. Why don’t you come over at six and you can stick around for dinner. I’m sure Mom won’t mind.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  These are seriously the best group of guys I know.

  “What about you, Joe?” Cole asks. “How are things with Bailey?”

  “Not too bad. I think I might be able to talk her into movie night next week but she’s afraid of y’all.”

  “Us?” Cole repeats. “Who would be afraid of us?”

  Joey doesn’t answer and I know what the implication is. He’s mentioned a few times the way Bailey seems to shy away when my name is brought up.

  “I think what Joey isn’t saying is that she doesn’t know what to think of me.”

  That’s always been the hurdle for these guys, and a reason that when they are involved, I tend to stay away. I never want their girlfriends to feel that I’m a threat, because I’m not. I really want my guys to be happy.

  “It’s not that,” Joey argues. “She just doesn’t understand how we all fit together.”

  “No one understands,” Cole shouts. “That’s the beauty of it: we’re misfits.”

  “Always have been,” Braxton agrees.

  “Everything okay, Searle?” Braxton asks of Haden, who is quieter than normal.

  Haden runs his hand through his hair and looks out in the distance. He finally turns to face us and I can tell something is weighing on him.

  “Yeah,” he starts. “Things are fine. Just some things have come up lately that are, well—pretty big.”

  “Spill it.” I jump up and down like the girl I never show them I am.

  “You know how I spent the whole summer interning with Stefon, the artist?”

  We all nod and wait for him to continue.

  “Well, it turns out that his publicist really liked my work. He let me hang out and work after hours and decided to show her my work.”

  “That’s cool, Searle.” Joey smiles. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that he’s got a show in three weeks and he wants me to show my art in one of the rooms for up-and-comers.”

  “Are you serious?” I beam and he nods. I’ve seen some Haden’s art and it’s truly beautiful.

  “Where is it? Do we gotta get dressed up?” Braxton asks.

  Haden’s smile fades and he looks uncomfortable. “Look, I appreciate that y’all want to be there, but—”

  “You don't want us there,” Cole finishes for him.

  “It’s not that, it’s just-”

  “He did nudes of your mom, Cameron,” Braxton jokes with Cole, who punches his arm in response.

  Haden laughs. “No, nothing like that. I just need to do this one on my own first. Y’all can come one of the other nights, but opening night I need to go it alone.”

  “If you say so,” Braxton concedes, but adds, “Just say the word and you know we’ll be there.”

  We all nod in agreement and one of the guys changes the subject to take the focus off Haden. I’m not paying attention because I’m still stuck on the reason he doesn’t want us there. What else is going on that he won’t let us be there on the biggest night of his life? We share everything; we’re there for each other. Always.

  The guys continue talking about their week and what they have coming up, but I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on.

  Why can’t we be there?

  What’s he hiding?

  Does he not trust us after all this time?

  I look over to see Haden looking at me as if he’s reading my mind and I shrug, silently questioning him. He gives me a lopsided grin and shakes his head, dismissing my concern.

  Oh, this is so not over. He’s going to tell me what's going on!

  * * *

  “Laila,” Dad calls out from downstairs. “Haden’s here.”

  “Yeah, be right down,” I answer. I locate my jogging clothes and change before grabbing my phone as I run downstairs.

  Haden is in the living room talking with my parents when I reach the bottom. My little sister Luka, the five-year-old accident, is sitting next to him playing with the black bracelets on his left wrist.

  “Searle,” I say his name as I walk into the room.

  He grabs Luka’s hand and kisses her wrist, causing the rat to blush, and he laughs.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah, let’s move,” he says, pointing to the door. “We won’t be long,” he informs my parents.

  “You got all your homework done, sweetie?” Mom asks.

  “Yes ma’am.” I salute, to which she narrows her eyes.

  “All right, missy. I expect one hundreds. Bye, Haden.”

  “Goodnight, Mrs. Nixon.” Haden smiles at her as he pulls the door open for me.

  “You are such a kiss-ass,” I say as I lean against the porch railing.

  “You think they bought it?” He stands next to me and mimics my stance.

  “Bought what? The nice guy thing? Yeah, pretty sure, considering you are a nice guy.”

  He smiles
as he nudges his elbow into mine.

  “Keep it down, I don’t want everyone to know.”

  “Too late,” I tease.

  “C’mon, let’s go before it gets too dark out.”

  “What, you won’t protect me?” I ask as we walk down the front steps.

  “Nah, you can protect me,” he says as we reach the end of the walkway. “Left or right?”

  “Right,” I say quickly.

  Every time we run, it’s the same question, and I always give the same answer. I love that he asks anyway. We start jogging at an easy pace, neither of us saying a word.

  Sunday nights, after our group hangout, Haden and I like to go for a three-mile run, give or take a mile. We’ve been doing this since freshman year. He knew how upset I would get about the gossip and thought that running would be a good way to clear my head. After a while, I just liked the way it made me feel.

  “How’s your mom?” I ask.

  “She’s fine. Sleeping right now—she had a long shift at the hospital,” he says.

  “Maybe I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow,” I offer, somewhat winded.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. She’s been picking up extra shifts, but I’ll tell her you said hi.”

  I nod in agreement and we fall into comfortable silence. The neighborhood feels empty, except for the occasional car that passes. Our feet tap a rhythm on the pavement and our breaths echo the sound, somehow soothing me. Mom and Dad were not happy about my trip to the principal’s office, but when I explained everything to them, they sided with me. Although the way I handled things did get me grounded for a week.

  Good thing I have my books.

  The thing about running is that my mind starts replaying things that I’ve pushed back. The incident with Mr. Tredway, the football game, Bailey and of course Haden’s news.

  I stop running but he continues a few steps further before stopping and turning to face me.

  “What—” I start, but I’m too winded to finish.

  “What?” he asks.

  “What are you—” I hold my finger up before placing my hands behind my head to catch my breath.

  “You okay?” he asks and moves closer to check on me.

  “Yeah,” I answer. I take a few deep breaths and fix my eyes on him. “What’s up? Why won’t you let us come to your showing?”

  He rolls his eyes and turns away.

  Irritated, I step to get in his path so he has to look at me. “Don’t do that. Tell me why we can’t come.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want y’all there—I said y’all could come another night. No one knows me as well as you do, but it’s a little weird letting everyone in to see what goes on in my mind.”

  “We are not everyone,” I remind him. “We’re your family, Searle. We love you.”

  “I know—”

  “Look, I’ve seen some of your stuff before, so why can’t I see it now? If you really don’t want me there, I won’t go, but can’t I at least go to your house and see it?”

  “Laila—”

  “Just me. You know I’m not going to say anything. I really want to be there, you’re my best friend. You know you’re my favorite,” I tease. It’s something I tell all of them, and they know it.

  He laughs and wraps his arm around my neck before kissing my sweaty hair. He stares at me for a moment, considering it. “Yeah, yeah.” He lets me go. “I’ll let you see, but not until opening night.”

  “Really?” I smile so big it almost hurts. “You’ll let me go?”

  “But don’t say anything to the others. Not yet,” he warns good-naturedly.

  “Where is it? What do I need to wear?”

  “It’s black-tie,” he grimaces. “Which reminds me, I need to find a suit.”

  “Wow, Haden. That’s pretty big.”

  “Yeah,” he says, furrowing his brow as he considers the gravity of what’s happening in his life. “It really is.”

  “You didn’t say where.”

  “I’ll pick you up and you can ride with me.”

  “Aw, Haden,” I coo. “Is this a date?”

  The moment the words come out of my mouth, I regret them. Haden hasn’t dated anyone since we started high school and I’ve wondered if there’s a chance he’s gay. I asked Joey once, but he brushed me off and said that he didn’t know and didn’t care.

  But I do care. I love Haden and the guys, whatever their preference is, and I now feel bad knowing that I may have just made him uncomfortable.

  He smiles and tugs at my arm. “Let’s get going. I told your parents we wouldn’t be too long.”

  I exhale a relieved breath and a return his smile before we resume our jog in relative silence. Five minutes turns into ten, and before I know it we’re standing in front of my house, breathless and completely exhausted.

  “I’m gonna get going,” he says through winded breaths.

  “See you tomorrow?” I say, sounding worse than him.

  He nods and starts to walk away but pauses and holds up his phone, indicating that I need to get mine. I smile when I get his nightly text.

  Haden: Night Nixon

  Me: Night Surly. Sweet Dreams

  He hates when I call him Surly, but it typically fits his demeanor. Besides, I’m the only one who calls him that.

  Haden shakes his head and jogs down the street to his house and I walk inside, more than ready for a shower and bed.

  Chapter 3 ~ Finding a Voice

  Being one of the guys is something I revel in. I always love having the inside track on what guys are thinking—even the gross stuff. Typically, when we were younger, their conversations consisted of who was faster, who could eat the most weird junk, and the mutual agreement that girls were the enemy.

  Except me, of course.

  Sure, over the years their thoughts have evolved to more mature things like farts, sports, and girls—no longer the enemy—but they remain guys to the very core.

  It has been a mutually beneficial relationship. They make me feel feminine, but not weak.

  One thing I learned early on is that if I wanted to survive, I had to keep my poker face on and give as good as I got. They taught me how to dominate when it comes to video games, which is why I was the undefeated champ on Halo by the time I was ten. And most of all, they helped me learn to defend myself.

  I was no action hero, by any means, but the guys made me watch Underworld half a dozen times because they said she was the ideal woman. Selene took crap from no one and was still hot. I decided that she would be my role model—except that I wasn’t a vampire or a warrior, but you get the picture. It wasn’t that I wanted the guys to see me like her; I just wanted to be able to handle my own.

  “No guy wants a damsel,” Joey said the first time we watched it. I felt like I was in How to Be a Girl 101 and Joey was my personal instructor. He would pause the movie, point things out, and insist that I cataloged it to memory. I probably should’ve taken notes.

  Because of the boys, I rarely watch chick flicks, unless my mom begs me to. I prefer the violent, raunchy, and offensive movies to romance any day of the week.

  Why do I mention this? Well, it was soon after my introduction to Selene that I had the opportunity to embrace my newfound insight and show the girl population what I was made of.

  * * *

  3 Years Ago

  Freshman year, the harassment from classmates started to increase because of interest in the guys. Each had filled out, and girls had started to take notice. I no longer looked at my boys like that—not that I was blind, but we shared too much. They were all attractive, and I’d crushed on each of them at some point in our years as friends.

  While they weren’t my brothers, they were the closest people to me, outside of my family. It became so I couldn’t see them the way other girls did, or if I ever started to, it was something I shoved way down deep so no one would see it.

  They were my barmy—my boy army—and I liked it that way.

  September o
f our first year in high school was a big adjustment for all of us. We were the little fish in a big pond and the coursework moved fast. Everyone fell into their new roles within the first week of school.

  Braxton had football practice every afternoon and rode home with Joey’s mom after Joey had finished tutoring students. Cole, Haden, and I had activities outside of school, but they were only a couple of days a week, so we walked home together almost every day.

  One day, while waiting for Cole to show up, Haden strolled over and surprised me.

  “I thought you had art today,” I said as he walked toward me.

  I was sitting in the front of the building at the fountain that had a statue of our mascot, Ethon the eagle, in the center. It was gaudy and obnoxious, but it had been there for years and served as our meeting spot after school.

  “Mr. Collins had some emergency at home so we’ll have to do it another day,” he said as he took a seat next to me. “Where’s Cole?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been here for ten minutes already.” I shrugged.

  Cole was never on time.

  “If he’s not here in five, we’ll head home,” he said with finality. “How was your day?”

  “It was a day, I suppose.” I leaned my head on his shoulder. “How was yours?”

  “I could do without calculus and history,” he laughed. “There he is. C’mon, Cole, get a move on,” he yelled.

  The doors were closing behind him and a few of the girls outside were watching his swagger. It was always funny to see the looks the girls gave the guys, and Cole wasn’t oblivious to their attention. In fact, he would milk it for his own entertainment. He was, by far, the most shameless of all of them. He would get an extra pep in his step or flex a muscle in his arm, even if it was barely evident to anyone but himself.

  For some reason, it made girls like him more.

  I tried to contain my laughter as Cole headed our way and lifted his backpack over his shoulder, making an effort to go slow and show off his bicep. You would have thought you were watching him in slow motion. He even ran his hand through his sandy blond hair to get it out of his eyes. Haden shook his head and laughed outright, but only I could hear it.

  When he reached us, Cole held out his hand to help me up and pulled me in for a hug, which I returned. Haden grabbed my bag and his and the three of us started walking toward our neighborhood when I heard cackling behind us. Since I didn’t know what it was about, I continued chatting with the guys until one of the girls got my attention.