Finding Laila: Some Changes are Necessary (21 page)

“Don’t
give me that. What was so bad that you just had to leave? You can’t just take
off because things don’t go your way.”

“Please,
Mom, can we do this later? I’m going to go for a run.”

“No,
we can do it now.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Start talking.”

I
recount the events with Davis and Jason and how I got involved. She listens and
nods in the appropriate places, and asks questions in the others. When I finish
the story, she sits on the barstool and rests her arms on the counter.

“So
am I getting a phone call from the school about this? I mean, I need to make
sure I’m still in the running for mom of the year,” she teases. But I know
there is a hint of truth to that. Ever since I told her I wanted to find my
birth mom, she’s been supportive, but I see the concern, too.

“You
are. Especially if you let me get out of here.” I lean my head toward the front
door. “I’m about to go for a run with Haden. Finish when I get back?”

She
leans against the counter and nods. “Okay, but we are going to talk.”

I
run over and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“I was thinking you were going to stand
me up,” Haden says from the end of the driveway.

“Never
crossed my mind.” I attempt to smile, but I don’t think I pull it off.

He
wraps his arms around me and pulls me close and I take in the scent of his
paints and natural clean smell and relax as I return the hug. Each of the guys
have
had a way of keeping me grounded, but Haden makes me
feel lighter—as if he has the ability to help me shoulder my load.

“Do
you wanna jog or just walk?” he asks when he lets me go.

“We
can walk,” I say, starting on our usual path.

The
first quarter of a mile, neither of us says a thing, and only cars and kids
playing outside fill our silence. Every once in a while his hand brushes mine
and I’m brought back to this moment, but the rest of time my head is elsewhere.
I can feel his eyes on me, waiting to gauge my mood so he can pounce, but I
feel like if I don’t say something I’m going to burst.

“I
can’t stop being pissed,” I finally breathe out. “You guys are my family,
you’re like brothers to me, and for someone to come after you like that kills
me.”

“Well,
that sucks.” He stops walking and I look at him in question. “Brothers?
Really?”

“I
don’t mean it like that,” I scoff and walk over to wrap my arms around him.
“You know that’s not what I mean, but yeah, for the last…however many years,
you guys have been closer to me than friends. Looking after each other, it’s
what we do—what we’ve always done. You know what I mean, right?”

“Just
checking,” he says, starting to walk again.

As
we near the path that leads to the quarry, he continues to walk straight and I
tug at his arm, but he only nods his head in the direction he was heading.
Instead of fighting it, I follow, curious to see where the new direction takes
us.

“So
what happened anyway?” I finally ask. I left in such a hurry that I never got
details or figured out why they were fighting in the first place.

“You
know how guys are,” he shrugs as if it explains everything.

“I
know how my guys are, and you never fight.”

“That’s
what you think,” he teases, but I shove at him and laugh when he stumbles.

“Be
serious,” I demand. “I’ve never seen that side of y’all and it scared me.”

“We’re
guys, Lai. It happens.”

“Okay,
well then why did it happen
this
time?”

He
exhales loudly but keeps walking and won’t look at me, so I grab his arm and
stop him. It’s only now that I notice the small gash over his eyebrow and a
bruise on his cheek. I reach up to touch it but he pulls back, reaching for my
hand instead.

“Guy
stuff.” He smiles and kisses my hand.

“You
know that’s not gonna fly. What happened?” I pull my hand away.

“They
were saying their usual crap, you know how it is.” He plays it down which only
fuels my curiosity.

“Apparently
I don’t,” I answer, rooted to my place on the sidewalk.

He
takes my hand in his and kisses my cheek. “You win.”

We
start walking and his thumb glides back and forth over mine in a soothing
motion, but he still hasn’t said anything. I want to give him time, but my
patience is also wearing thin so I give his hand a squeeze. He stops walking
and I realize that we’re standing in front of his house.

“C’mon
in, and I’ll tell you everything,” he concedes.

We
walk through the door, the smells of homemade spaghetti sauce and garlic bread
filling the air. My stomach lets out a growl and Haden laughs, nudging me
forward.

“Haden,
dinner’s almost ready,” Ms. Searle calls out. “I’m leaving for work in a few
minutes, so just make sure you clean up when you’re done.”

We
walk through the doorway and she turns around to see me standing with Haden and
smiles.

She
walks over and wipes her hands off on her apron before she pulls me into a warm
hug. “I’m glad I got to see you before I left,” she starts. “It’s been too
long. I think I need to get the hospital to change my hours.”

“Hi,
Ms. Searle, how are you?” I answer.

“I’d
be a lot better if Haden would hear back from one of the colleges,” she winks.
“But really, I’m good. How ’bout you, sweetie? I heard about the fight.” She
scowls at Haden and I laugh because I was doing the same thing moments before.

“I’m
okay, I guess. Mom’s a little mad that I took off before school was out.”

“She
should be—you can’t just leave like that,” she reasons, and I cower under
her knowing stare.

“Yeah,
that’s pretty much what she said. But what about this one and the face.” I
point to the scratch over Haden’s eye.

“I
can’t get too mad.” She winks. “Sticking up for his girl.”

“Mom,”
Haden’s voice is a low warning tone, “not now.”

I
swing my head to look at him and he drops his shoulders.

“I
need to get to work,” she grabs her purse and keys before kissing Haden.
“Laila, there’s plenty, help yourself, and Haden, clean up when you’re done.”

One
second she’s there, the next she’s gone, and Haden is left standing with me
gawking at him over his mom’s words. She opens the door again and looks at us,
“Haden, no one here after dark.”

He
gives her a salute and she shuts the door again, leaving us alone. Haden walks
into the kitchen and grabs two plates, but I remain in the doorway waiting for
an explanation.

“Come
eat,” he says as he piles a plate with pasta and sauce. “She made this for
you.”

“For
me?” I ask, taken aback. “Why?”

“I
told her you were coming over.”

“That’s
interesting, since I didn’t know that I was.”

“I
was hoping.” He grins and sets the plate on the table before repeating his
actions again. “It was something I had planned for a week now, but I wasn’t
sure if I could get you here after today.”

He
sets his plate down and takes a seat, but when I don’t follow, he points to the
empty chair next to him.

“If
you don’t eat, she’s gonna be pissed at me.”

“I’m
not eating until you tell me what happened today.” I sit down and cross my arms
over my chest. I pull out my phone and send a message to my mom to let her know
where I am while I wait for Haden to fess up.

“It
started out with the same thing I always get from those two: ever since we
started dating, they make it a point to comment on what you’re wearing, what
you should wear, or other things I’d rather not talk about.”

“Haden,
you and I both know that it’s not just them, so why today?”

“Because
today they took it too far.”

“How?”

“I
was waiting by your locker like I usually do, but when you didn’t show up and
Davis walked by, he made some comment about how you wanted a real man. I said
something about him being an insecure jerk and he said he’d show you what you
were missing.”

“And?”

“I
got in his face and told him that if he came near you, I’d make sure it was the
last thing he did. He pushed me, but before I could do anything, Braxton
stepped in and pulled Davis away. Of course, that’s when Jason got in on it and
started in on the whole gay thing.”

He
gets up and pulls the bread out of the oven and brings a couple of slices to
the table, but eating is the last thing on my mind at the moment.

“It
was pretty brutal,” he admits. “I felt bad for Brax. I mean, these guys have
been his friends and teammates for a long time, but they just turned on him.
Started calling him a fag, drawing attention by saying he was making passes at
them—it was crazy. So I pushed Jason and told him to back
off—though I’m sure my language was a lot more R-rated.”

“I’m
not surprised,” I huff.

“Yeah,
well, Brax didn’t let him off the hook—he started telling them he knew
they were just pissed because more girls were interested in him than either of
them, even though he’s gay. Next thing I know, someone throws a punch to my
face, I’m throwing ’em back, and there’s a crowd watching the whole damn
thing.”

He
finishes his story and shoves a mouthful of spaghetti into his mouth, as if
it’s the final word on the subject, but I’ve yet to start eating.

“It’s
not like either of you to draw attention to yourselves, let alone be in a
fight.
It’s
just words, Haden, and it’s just
me—you should’ve let it go.”

“Like
you did? ‘Just’ you—funny you say it like you’re nothing. But you
are—you’re special.”

“I
was trying to—”

“Stand
up for us?” he finishes. “Yeah, and that’s what we were doing—standing up
for you.”

“Touché,”
I concede, finally loading my fork up with pasta. “But I don’t need it, you
know I can take care of myself.”

“And
so can we. Jeez, Lai, we’re not little kids who need someone to mother us.
We’re your best friends—
I’m your
boyfriend
. What kind of guy does that make me? To just sit by and let
people talk bad about my girl
and
my
best friend?”

“We’re
kind of a strange group, aren’t we?” I ask, thinking of the lengths we’ve all
gone through to look after the others.

“That’s
what friends do,” he answers easily.

We
eat our dinner in silence, but every once in a while he looks at me as if he’s
trying to read my mind. The spaghetti is so good; it’s always been my favorite
dish that Ms. Searle makes. When we were kids, she’d make enough to feed all
five of us, and when we’d finished, we would head to the living room to watch
some TV. I smile at the memory and Haden takes my plate to the sink when he sees
that it’s empty. I watch in fascination at the guy he’s turned into. I know his
dad would be proud of him and everything he’s done to help out his mom.

He
finishes cleaning up and puts the leftovers in the refrigerator, and turns to
face me when he’s done. A smile spreads across his face as he leans against the
counter and crosses his arms over his chest in some sort of unspoken victory.
Despite my efforts not to, I return his smile and willingly get to my feet when
he pulls me up from my seat and hugs me.

“TV?”
he asks before giving me a sweet kiss.

“Okay,”
I answer and walk to the living room to plant myself on my usual spot on the
middle of their couch.

He
sits to my right and pulls me so I lean against him while he channel surfs with
one hand and holds my hand with his other. It’s a comfortable quiet as he stops
along the way to see if anything good is on, but it’s no use—the shows
are lame.

“I
should probably head home,” I tell him, even though I don’t want to go.

“Ten
more minutes,” he states, but I know it’s a question so I nod.

“So,
what are your plans for April eighteenth?” he asks, catching me off guard.

“I
don’t have my calendar with me, so I’m not sure. I mean it’s like three months
away, why?”

I
know what that date is. It’s been circled on my calendar since the beginning of
the year, but I don’t want him to know it’s the one event I’ve allowed myself
to ‘girl’ over since I was eight.

“I’m
pretty sure you know what that date is, but I’ll play along,” he laughs. “Laila
Jude, if you don’t have any plans, I was wondering if maybe you’d be my date to
prom.”

I
sit up and look at him with a smile plastered to my face. “I thought it was a
given,” I laugh, though I’m so excited he didn’t just take it for granted.

“Hey,
I don’t assume anything,” he says, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “I
hear it’s a bit of a big deal.”

“You’re
a bit of a big deal,” I turn to face him, “and of course I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah?”
He smiles back. “Good, because if you said no, I was going to see if Caarly
wanted to go.”

“You’re
so funny,” I smirk and narrow my eyes at him. “I’m the only person willing to
put up with your moods, so you’re stuck with me as your only choice.”

“That
works for me.” He brings his lips to mine but doesn’t kiss me. I feel his smile
against my lips and fight my own. “You’ve always been my only choice,” he
finishes before finally crashing his lips to mine.

I’m
not so stupid to believe I’m the only one who sees him as the sexy, brooding
artist—everyone sees it. But for whatever reason, Haden sees only me, and
I’ll take it.