Finding Laila: Some Changes are Necessary Read online

  “Dunno.” She shrugs.

  “You realize he’d drop—pretty much everything—to help you out, right?”

  “I didn’t ask,” she responds as she keeps her eyes trained on her paper. Her cheeks turn slightly pink and it looks like she’s fighting a smile.

  “Well, you should,” I tell her, looking at my own paper. “He’s really into you.”

  “You think?”

  “Don’t play that game.” I shake my head and turn to face her. “You know he’s into you, and I know you’re into him—so no games. Okay?”

  She slowly turns to look at me and narrows her eyes because I know I came off harsher than I intended—but I don’t sugarcoat.

  “I don’t like you much,” she says.

  Apparently she doesn’t sugarcoat either.

  “You don’t know me, and I could say the same thing about you,” I challenge.

  “Fair enough.”

  “So tell me, what have I done—to you—that makes you not like me?”

  She taps her pen on the top of the desk and I know she’s trying to rifle through a list of my rumored offenses.

  “That’s what I thought. So why don’t we do the clean slate thing?”

  “Ye-yeah,” she stammers. “Okay.”

  We don’t have time to talk more because Mr. Garcia walks over and begins to explain the lesson we have been working on. I got lost somewhere last week in class and haven’t been able to catch up. He hands us each a sheet with examples of projectiles and continues talking animatedly about the subject.

  Gotta love teachers who are passionate about what they teach, even if it’s the most uninteresting subject ever.

  He walks away to help another person and leaves us in silence looking over the information.

  “Look, Joey is one of my best friends, and since you are dating him, I would really like to see if we can get along. You good with that?”

  “Yeah, I think I’m good with that.” She smiles somewhat timidly.

  “Then I am extending an invitation to the party,” I say.

  “Your eighteenth?”

  “Yeah,” I exhale and cover my face with my hands. The guys have started putting it out there that I will be having a party. One I want no part of and they are handling completely.

  “All right,” she starts to pack her things up because it’s almost time for school to start, “let’s go find Joey and the guys and see what they’re planning so we know what you need to buy for this thing.”

  “Oh no.” I grab my own things and follow her out the door. “I do not shop. Like ever. If I can’t buy it online and it doesn’t fit, then I don’t get it.”

  “You are such a tomboy,” she retorts and I find the banter easy, though she doesn’t know me well enough to say what type of person I am.

  “Look,” I stop her and find myself defensive, “you might not like my style, but it’s done well for me so far and I like it.”

  She bites the side of her lip and forces a smile. “I wasn’t saying there’s anything wrong with how you dress. I actually think you have a great style…I was just thinking that maybe you and I could hang out and see if maybe we have anything in common outside of Joey.”

  “Sorry,” I relent and force my own smile. We start walking toward the guys and I see Haden watching the two of us with fascination. As we get closer to them I nudge her with my elbow. “Movie. My house, Friday night—but something funny, okay?”

  “Yeah, that sounds good.” She walks into Joey’s arms and gives him a hug.

  “What sounds good?” Joey asks as he looks between the two of us.

  “Your girlfriend and I are going to watch a movie Friday night—you guys aren’t invited,” I add with a smile.

  “Good thing it’s a bye or I’d be pissed,” Braxton warns with his trademark smirk.

  “So what are your plans then?” I ask of the group.

  “I was going to take my girlfriend on a date, but since you stole her for the night, I guess I’m going to head to the gallery to see Searle’s art.”

  Haden walks toward me and wraps his arm around my waist: the first official public gesture to let anyone know that we’re together. I feel exposed and happy at the same time, but I know it’s only a matter of time until people decide to start in on me about it.

  “Yeah, this is the last weekend, so if y’all want to come by, I’ll be there.” He drops his chin and kisses the top of my head. “Walk you to class?”

  “Aw,” the guys say in unison as they blow kisses and I roll my eyes.

  “Shut it.” I point and narrow my eyes. “None of that. See y’all at lunch.” I turn to walk off and point to Bailey. “Get my number from Joey.”

  * * *

  It’s been a long day and I have a ton of homework to take care of when I get home, but it will have to wait because I have swim practice. I missed three sessions last week, but promised coach I’d be there after school every day this week to make up for it. I grab my phone to check in with Mom about when I’ll be home before I send Haden a text.

  Me: Don’t forget, I have practice tonight. Call you when I get home.

  Haden: Okay. Talk later.

  Me: Today was weird.

  I walk into the locker room and set my phone on the bench so I can change into my swimsuit. I like the me-ness of swim team, and the water calms me after a hectic day. Our team has won state several times, the most recent being last year. We have some excellent swimmers, ones that will probably get a scholarship, but I’m not one of them. Don’t get me wrong—I’m a good swimmer, but I’m not the best. It doesn’t matter to me, though. I’m on the team because I enjoy swimming and this allows me to do it as much as I want.

  My phone vibrates on the bench and I pick it up to see Haden’s response.

  Haden: Weird?

  Me: Yeah. Us. Weird.

  The chatter of other girls entering the room causes me to turn and set my phone down so I can finish changing. I think about the day and realize that my text might sound bad so I rush to correct myself.

  Me: Good weird.

  My teammates walk in, but I can’t see which ones are there because they’re on the other side of the lockers. For the most part we get along fine, though I’m an outsider in the group. Several of them are close and you rarely see them without the other.

  “Did you hear about Braxton and Laila?”

  Braxton?

  “She’s either the luckiest girl around or the easiest. All those guys, all to herself, I need to make friends with her,” one of them says.

  “Is there even a question?” the first one responds.

  “Hold up, I saw her with Haden this morning. So who is she with?” a third voice asks.

  “Jason said that Braxton was all over her this morning before Haden got to school. I bet she’s messing with both of them and neither of them know it,” the first one says.

  This has to be one of the more ridiculous lies I’ve heard about myself.

  “Is she coming to practice today?” someone asks and I close my locker loud enough that their talking stops. I grab my towel, swim cap, and phone, and walk around the lockers to see four of my teammates staring at me in shock.

  “Yep, she is,” I answer with a straight face.

  “Hey—” one of them says, but I cut her off.

  “Have any of you ever once considered coming to me and carrying on a real conversation?”

  None of them can look me in the eye so I continue.

  “I guess not, because it’s more fun to believe all the rumors that you help spread, isn’t it? Well, let me clarify a couple of things for you: first, those four guys are the best people I know and would never say or do anything to disrespect me the way you just were. Second, I’m with Haden, not that any of this is your business. Anyway, see ya out there.”

  I walk off with a sick sense of satisfaction at the look of mortification on each of their faces. There’s not a doubt in my mind they knew I was there, and they thought I’d let them sa
y whatever they wanted.

  I check my phone one last time before I have to set it aside to get into the pool and smile at his words.

  Haden: The best kind of weird.

  Chapter 10 ~ Finding Bailey

  I’m not sure why, despite seeing me with Haden, people are so insistent to connect Braxton with me. My teammates are still avoiding me like the plague after I found them discussing my relationship with the guys. The rumors have been running rampant, but as usual, I ignore them when I can and confront it when I need to.

  I’m relieved that the week is over. Last period flew by and as I grab my stuff out of the locker, I hear snippets of another rumor. That makes three different versions of how the chat with Jason went on Monday, none of which are true.

  Haden, Cole, and I head to the parking lot to Haden’s car when my phone rings in my pocket.

  “Hey, Bailey. What’s up?” Cole looks questioningly at me but I ignore him.

  “Not much, just checking to see if we’re still on and what time.”

  “Yeah. Seven o’clock work for you?”

  “Sounds good, see you then,” she says before disconnecting the call.

  Cole climbs into the back seat so I can get in, but still watches me like I’m missing something.

  “What?” I ask, turning in my seat to face him.

  “Nothing.” He throws his hands up defensively.

  “That is not a ‘nothing’ look. Spill.”

  “I’m serious, I’m just giving you a hard time. You never hang out with girls—it’s fascinating.”

  “Fascinating, huh? Cole, I have made an effort with every single one of the girls you guys have brought around. For whatever reason, it never works. I have no idea if Bailey and I are going to be good friends, but I always try—for you guys. Besides, this is Joey we’re talking about. When was the last time he had a girlfriend? I want her to stick around for a while.”

  “So what are y’all planning to do tonight?” Haden asks as he starts the engine.

  “Oh you know, typical girl things, mani-pedi, eat ice cream, gossip.” I over-animate my voice before laughing. “What do you think? Watch a movie.”

  “Damn,” Cole huffs, “what’s the point of being friends with a girl if we don’t even get to watch a pillow fight?”

  “First off, ew. And second, it’s not a sleepover, so let it go.”

  “A guy can dream.” He closes his eyes in blissful surrender and I look at Haden, who rolls his eyes.

  We drop Cole off first, even though he lives closer to Haden than I do. He jumps out of the car and tells Haden he’ll see him at the gallery, which causes a groan to escape him.

  “I thought you were cool with the guys coming by, so what’s wrong?” I ask as he backs out of the driveway.

  “Nothing really,” he answers.

  “Okay, then what are you thinking about?” With Haden, it’s all about how you phrase the question.

  “The guys don’t know about the pictures of you in the gallery.”

  I stretch my hand between us and he threads his fingers through mine. I don’t feel the need to say anything, because I know the guys will be cool with all of it, but this is Haden we’re talking about. He doesn’t let many people in.

  “You know if you told them not to come, they’d listen,” I offer.

  He pulls the car over to the curb outside of my house and throws it into park. We get out and he takes my hand as we walk up to the front door. It’s funny how so much has changed in a week, yet it feels completely normal. Haden stops short of the steps and tugs my hand so I face him.

  “I don’t care who knows how I see you—how I’ve seen you. You are the only one I care about,” he says with a serious face. “Well, you and my mom.”

  “Did she ever make it to the gallery?” I feel like a jerk because I never asked before.

  “She’s coming before her shift today, before the gallery opens.” His mouth turns in a sad smile.

  “So she’s going to see your work?” I swallow hard, curious what she knows of us.

  He lifts his hand and tucks my hair behind my ear, but drags his fingers across my jaw. “She’s seen drawings of you before, Lai,” he says.

  I open my mouth to speak, but stop when he continues.

  “After Dad died, do you remember what you said to me?”

  I try to recall what sage words I might have imparted but I come up empty.

  “You gave me a hug. That’s it. While everyone else was telling me how much my dad loved me, how they were here if I needed them—you were there. You hugged me and said you wished that you had something to say to make me feel better.”

  My shoulders slump in defeat when I realize that there was nothing sage in my words.

  “Lai, you were there for me. You held my hand and stayed by my side to make sure that I was okay. You didn’t spout some clichéd words or offer lame gestures. It meant more to me than you know. I was so angry that he was gone, I didn’t want to be at his funeral—I never even wanted to paint again. But months later, I was in the house alone, and for the first time it seemed like Dad was at work—not gone. I was still sad, but I knew things would be okay. I went into my room and grabbed the sketch pad and let my hand do whatever it wanted.”

  He stops talking, walks over to the steps and takes a seat. When I don’t follow, he reaches out his hand and pulls me next to him.

  “I don’t think I’d ever had such an intense session when sketching. Before I knew it, it was midnight and Mom was getting home from her night shift. I didn’t even hear her come in until she was in my room and I heard her voice. I looked over my shoulder and she was staring at the drawing. I looked down at the paper and realized that I drew you, Laila.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Mom asked me if you knew, but I didn’t know it yet. I thought I was sketching another scenery like I always did, something that brought me peace. It wasn’t until I had about six pictures of you that I had to stop and think about it. It freaked me out because you’re one of my best friends.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I waited up one night for Mom to get home, and I showed her all of the drawings I’d done. I was looking for an explanation because as it was, it looked like I was obsessed with you,” he huffs with a crooked smile.

  “And were you?” I tease.

  “When she asked me what I felt when I looked at the images, I smiled and said I felt calm. Looking into your eyes brought me peace—just like all of the landscapes I would draw. She knew before me that I was falling for you, but when I realized it, we’d already decided that none of us were going to take a chance at ruining our cool group.”

  “Haden—”

  “So like I said, it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. She knows I love you—that I have for a long time.” He looks away at his last words as if he’s said too much.

  I welcome the break from his stare because I’m choking over the words. It’s too soon and yet not soon enough. All four of the guys mean so much to me, and I’ve told all of them that I love them. But that’s not the kind of love Haden’s talking about. I can feel it in his story, the way he looks at me—he really loves me. Me.

  I can’t formulate an adequate response, so I lean over and take his face in my hands so that he is looking at me. He opens his mouth to speak, but I silence him with a kiss and pour as much of my heart into it as I possibly can.

  “Call me later?” I ask before turning to head inside but he catches my hand to stop me.

  “Can I come over?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  He kisses me one last time and I watch him walk to his car and drive away.

  * * *

  Took Luka to Gwen’s birthday party

  and your dad said he might be working late.

  Back later.

  Love,

  Mom

  I wad the paper in my hand and toss it into the trash so I can straighten up before Bailey gets here. I hope Bailey has a good se
nse of humor because I rent The Heat for us to watch. Two of my favorite people in one movie—can’t beat it.

  Bailey and I talked a few times at school, but nothing worth noting and nothing that let me in on what type of person she really is. I have no grand illusions that we’re going to instantly bond tonight and be lifelong friends, but maybe we’ll be able to find something that will help us.

  My phone chimes and I look to see a text from Bailey.

  Bailey: Mind if I come earlier? I’m bored.

  Me: C’mon over. Know how to get here?

  Bailey: Joey gave me your address.

  Me: There isn’t much food in the house. Wanna grab a pizza?

  Bailey: Be there in 10 to pick you up.

  Me: Kewl

  Bailey: Kewl? Really?

  Me: Bite me. Better?

  Bailey: Much

  There might be more to Bailey Butler than I thought. I need to change into something comfortable, and I see my laundry is in a pile on top of my bed. Thanks, Mom. I dig through until I find my favorite yoga pants—yes, I have a favorite—and pull on a loose tank before pulling my hair into a ponytail. When I look at my reflection I note that this is as dressed up as I get for movie night, so I’m definitely not trying to impress. Granted, I will be seen in public, but that’s not something I usually worry about anyway. It’s not like I look bad, just really relaxed.

  “Laila? You home?” Dad calls out from downstairs.

  “Yeah, be right down. I thought Mom said you were working late.”

  “Your mom never listens to me, I said I didn’t have to,” he laughs. “Hey, Lai, there’s a blue convertible in the driveway. Is someone here?”

  “That’s probably Bailey, we’re going to get something to eat.”

  I trot down the stairs and see my dad standing behind the kitchen counter with a strange look on his face.

  “Everything okay, Dad?”

  “Bailey?” He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow.

  “Yeah, Joey’s girlfriend.”

  As if on cue, the doorbell rings and I head over to answer it. I’m relieved to see Bailey dressed in similar clothes, not looking to impress anyone either.

  “Hey, c’mon in, my dad just got home.”