Discovered (9 page)

Jay

By the end of the
following week, Jay was regretting his decision one hundred percent. His resolve
was in tatters.  He couldn’t deny how it stung him when Layla wouldn’t even say
hello to him in English, how she was acting like he didn’t exist. He was
surprised that hurt more than he thought it would, but what did he expect? Was
she just supposed to act like his best friend from here on out?

He sat in the
cafeteria alone, across the room from her, as he had done every day for the
last week and a half. He watched her push her pretty auburn hair behind her
ears and felt an ache so strong, wishing he could find any excuse to touch her
cheek just one more time.

  Not only had he
led her on to a certain degree, he’d also impulsively asked her to that stupid
Thanksgiving dance, ruining her plans to go to New York with her mother. He
felt like a total cad.

He debated going to
Layla and pleading forgiveness, begging her to give him another chance, but to
what purpose? He was right. He wasn’t in a position to date anyone, especially
not a lovely, innocent girl like Layla.

Still, the memory
of that terrible day in his car the week before plagued him night and day.

Jay had stopped
the car half-way down the block and pulled over after he’d dropped her home. He
leaned his head back on the headrest and threw his arm over his eyes. It had
been even worse than he had imagined it would be. He wanted to punch himself,
hating himself for hurting her that way. No matter how brave she pretended to
act, he couldn’t help noticing the way she swallowed repeatedly as though she
was desperately trying not to cry.

 But then an
even worse thought occurred to him. What if he’d imagined that? What if she
really was okay with what he said? Somehow, in his own selfish head, the idea
of that seemed to cut even deeper.

He turned the
keys in the ignition and headed home.

He walked
through the front door of his house, feeling worse than he remembered feeling
for a very long time. Eager to be alone, he felt his face fall when Ben walked
out of the kitchen.

“Well?” Ben
asked.

Jay nodded.
“It’s done,” he said quietly.

“Don’t you feel
better now?” Ben pushed.

“Yup,” Jay
replied and headed for the stairs.

Ben narrowed his
eyes and regarded Jay suspiciously. “Liar,” he said under his breath.

Jay kept moving,
pretending he didn’t hear the last comment.

He made a decision.
He would stick it out at school until the Thanksgiving break then disappear
from her life forever.

He stared in her
direction as she sat alone with her back to him, reading a paperback novel. He
started to consider that maybe he was behaving like a stalker, and supposed he
should just leave the building for the day.

But before he made
a move to leave, Kevin Hartley pulled out the chair facing her and sat down.

Jay saw red
instantly.

Against his better
judgment, he was spitting mad and felt clued to the seat, glaring in their
direction.

It had the
appearance of a regular conversation at the start, but when Layla rested the
book on the table and folded her hands in front of her, Hartley leaned over and
placed both his hands on either side of hers. To make matters worse, Layla
didn’t pull her hands away. Instead, she leaned forward as though thoroughly
enjoying the conversation.

And suddenly
Hartley was looking in Jay’s direction, a taunting expression on his face. He
turned back to Layla and moved in further.

His body moving of
its own accord, Jay found himself somehow crossing the room, heading in their
direction, driven by an unfathomable, immature and completely uncalled for envy—the
red-hot flames of jealousy threatening to consume him.

Kevin looked up as
Jay approached and arched his eyebrows, a deviant, hateful look spreading
across his features. “What do you want, Logan?” he asked, still holding Layla’s
hands.

Layla’s head whipped
around.

“You have one
second to get your hands away from Layla’s,” Jay seethed.

“What?” Layla
gasped.

Jay nearly
staggered back, wondering where the words had come from, almost as horrified by
his statement as she was.

“Get lost, loser,”
Hartley replied smugly, assured of having Layla’s back.

Jay snapped.

He reached over and
grabbed Kevin by the shirt, his face red from rage, and pulled Hartley roughly
out of his seat, preparing to pound the guy with his other hand.

“Stop it!” Layla
bellowed, standing up and pushing Jay’s arm away.

And then, as if
coming to his senses, Jay looked down at his own hand, wondering how it had
managed to attack that boy without prompting.

“What is wrong with
you?” Layla yelled. Her disgusted glare burned into him, causing him to flinch.

He turned on his
heels and marched out of the cafeteria, the bitter sting of self-pity and shame
making his skin crawl. He kept walking, out the front door of the building,
putting as much distance between himself and Layla’s appalled expression as he
could.

 In a matter of
seconds, he was soaked to the skin, thanks to a heavy thunderstorm due to the
unseasonable heat.

He walked to his
car and pounded the roof with his fist, then rested his head against the door,
feeling the saturated shirt stick to his shoulders. “Layla,” he moaned softly,
convinced that he’d never get that image from his head—the way she looked at
him as though he was some kind of monster.

Abruptly, he was
aware of someone watching him, the instinctual feeling of eyes on your back. He
turned around to see her walking toward him, her little hands balled into fists,
her hair stuck to her face, dripping wet.

She slowed down then
stood motionless for a second, staring at him. Then she mopped her wet hair off
her face and ran the cuff of her soaking wet jacket across her cheeks to wipe
off some of the deluge.

Jay swallowed a
gasp, convinced he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“What is your
problem?” she demanded. “Why were you going to beat the crap out of Hartley?”

“I…um…” he
stammered.

“Was it because he
was holding my hands?” she questioned.

Jay nodded,
grimacing.

“I don’t
understand,” she stated firmly. “What you said last week…” she trailed off,
waiting for his response.

Jay walked forward,
his hand out in front of him, reaching for her, but then he pulled it back and
ran his fingers through his wet hair. His palm came to rest on his forehead as
he looked at her with a reluctant longing. “Layla,” he said, then shook his
head. “I…” He leaned his hand on the side of his car and pursed his lips.

He glanced over at
her and noticed an undeniable look of pity in her expression. Regardless of how
badly he’d hurt her feelings, he could tell that she sensed his wavering and
knew that his heart and his head were not on the same page. His pained
expression was making it obvious that he was at war with himself.

She walked forward
a little. “Is everything alright?” she asked with overwhelming kindness,
causing him to feel ten times worse, if that was even possible.

He shook his head and
leaned over, staring at the ground. Then he straightened his stance and opened
the passenger door. “Get in,” he said, looking back over at her.

“I can’t,” she
replied. “I have to get to class.”

“Look at you,
Layla,” he uttered. “You can’t go anywhere like that. You’re soaked to the
skin.”

She hesitated
momentarily then walked over and slid onto the seat.

Jay walked around
to the far side of the car and got in beside her. He fiddled with the heat,
blasting it. “I’ll take you to my house where you can dry off then I’ll drive
you home.”

“I don’t have my
stuff,” she said quietly.

He handed her his
phone. “Call Julie and tell her to take your things home. We can stop over
there later.”

Layla was silent
during the car ride, shivering slightly. She was probably wondering what was
going on with him, and he was well aware of the fact that he was throwing her
for a loop.

“I’ll apologize to
Hartley on Monday,” Jay stated, looking straight ahead. “My behavior was completely
uncalled for.”

Layla shrugged, not
bothering to answer.

Jay looked sideways
in her direction. “Are you cold?” he questioned.

“A little,” she
replied.

“I could turn the
heat up—”

“It’s fine,” she
said in a soft voice.

When they entered
his house, Jay ran upstairs and poked around Issy’s stuff, looking for
something suitable to give to Layla. He walked downstairs and handed her a pair
of pink sweatpants and an oversized black sweatshirt. “You can go shower
upstairs then give me your clothes, and I’ll throw them into the dryer.”

“Okay,” Layla
replied quietly, taking the pile of clothes from his hand and heading upstairs
to the bathroom.

Jay made his way to
his own bathroom and showered quickly then threw on a pair of gray sweatpants
and a tight, white, V-neck T-shirt. He walked back downstairs to the kitchen
and filled the electric kettle with water to make some hot tea.

He had just put two
teabags into mugs when she came into the kitchen, looking adorable in baggy
clothes and wet hair. Jay swallowed and forced himself to look in the other
direction, overcome by the vision before him.

She bit her lip and
looked at him nervously, holding out the wet bundle of clothes. “Where should
I—”

“I’ll take them,” Jay
said grabbing the small pile from her and heading into the little room at the
back of the kitchen. He threw her stuff into the dryer and turned it on then
walked back into the kitchen and gestured toward the counter. “I made you some
hot tea,” he said. He handed her a cup and motioned toward the living room.

Layla took her cup,
walked into the living room and sat at the end of the couch.

Jay sat on the far
end of the seat, giving her some space. He looked over nervously. “Can I ask
you what you and Hartley were talking about before?” he questioned, knowing
that he had no right to an answer.

“He said he heard
that you and I were no longer…” she waved her hand back and forth between him
and herself, as if trying to find the right words. “That we weren’t doing
whatever it was we were doing.”

Jay nodded. “I’m
sure that made his day,” he muttered.

They sat in silence
for a few moments.

“Then he asked me
to go to the dance with him on Friday night,” she added quietly.

Jay looked up
quickly. “What did you say?”

“I told him that I
really wasn’t in the mood to go,” she replied.

“I still want to
take you,” he informed her.

“It’s not
necessary. I don’t need—”

“I want to,” he
insisted.

Layla let out a
deep sigh. “I really don’t understand you,” she stated. “I thought you said—”

“I said that I
wasn’t in a position to date anyone on a full-time basis, but I still want to
bring you to the dance.” Jay was well aware that he was confusing the girl, not
to mention, selfishly backpedaling. The truth was, he really had been looking
forward to bringing her.

“Why?” she
questioned. “Why are you not in a position to date anyone? Not that it’s any of
my business, I suppose.”

“I’m really not
like other guys our age,” he answered.

Layla rolled her
eyes. “Oh, please don’t start with that crap—”

“But it’s the
truth,” he insisted, realizing how phony that excuse must sound to her. “There
are things about me…” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

“Okay,” she
replied. It was apparent that she was going to get no further explanation.

“Ben is right; this
could only end—”

“BEN?” Layla
screeched. “This is because of Ben?” Her face turned red suddenly, anger thick
on her features. “I’m sorry, Jay, I know he’s been your friend for as long as
you can remember, but what is wrong with that guy? What does he have over you,
and what does he have against me? Are you involved with his sister or
something?”

Jay shook his head.
“As a matter of fact, Ben likes you…a lot, which is why he doesn’t want to see
you get hurt. And he does not, nor did he ever, have a sister. I’m not dating
anyone. I meant what I said, Layla, I’m not in a position to get involved with
anyone. If I was, you would be my first…my only choice.”

Layla looked
exasperated. She shook her head back and forth as if she was debating his
request. Jay could see her weakening.  “I don’t know about Friday,” she said.
“At this point, Julie isn’t even going.”