Finding Laila: Some Changes are Necessary (29 page)

I’m so glad I did.

“I can’t believe it’s almost the end of
July,” I say to Joey.

He
assembles a moving box and sets it on his bed. Since the beginning of the
month, he’s picked one day a week to box his things, either for the move or for
storage. I hate being here on those days, because it drives home that this is
it.

Unfortunately,
this is the only time that worked for us today and I’ve got to meet Haden in a
little while for a date I planned.

Joey could’ve warned me
that it was a packing day.

“Next
week we’ll be in California, and by this time next month, you’ll be a New York
resident.”

“Yeah,
and you’ll still be in Texas,” he laughs.

“How’s
your mom taking it?”

“She
goes from yelling at me one minute—and demanding to know how I’m going to
make it on my own because I didn’t put my dinner plate away—to crying her
eyes out that I’m going to be a Yankee.”

“She’s
just
gonna
miss her baby,” I coo at him and pinch his
cheek for extra emphasis.

He
swats my hand away, grabs some books from his shelf, and picks a few to box up.
“Have you talked to Bailey?” he asks as he continues to work.

“Not
since last weekend,” I tell him.

“So
you didn’t hear that we broke up?”

“What?”
I gasp, staring at him. “When did this happen?”

“I
think we both knew it was coming.” He shrugs his shoulders and keeps packing, but
I can tell he’s torn up. “I mean
,
she’s going to be
almost three thousand miles away on the other side of the country.”

“Okay,
but why now? Why not wait until the end of summer?”

“Just
the way it goes, I guess.”

“I’m
sorry, Joey,” I say, unsure if he’s really okay or if it’s a façade.

“We’re
still friends,” he adds. “I think she wanted to be able to date while she was
out there without the baggage of the long-distance thing.”

“First
Cole and Ree, now you and Bailey.”

Are Haden and I next?

Joey
continues moving about to complete his task and makes no move to look in my
direction. “I know where you’re going with that and you can stop,” he says,
still not making eye contact.

“Yeah,
I know,” I concede.

Cole
and Ree broke up a couple of weeks ago but still hang out with the rest of us.
She told me when school starts they’ll be too busy with classes and meeting new
people to keep up with the relationship thing. It makes sense, but it’s still
disappointing they didn’t try to make it work.

But,
I suppose if I weren’t dating Haden, I would be thinking the same thing.
However, this
is
Haden, and maybe I
am delusional thinking that we might make it work. We’ll be less than a
two-hour drive from each other.

“It’s
not very realistic, Lai. I’m sure we could have tried, but let’s be
honest—this is what’s supposed to happen,” Joey comments, breaking me out
of my own thoughts.

“Are
you saying that Haden and I should break up?” I ask, somewhat shocked at his
words.

“Did
I say that?”

“You
implied it,” I argue.

“No,
you inferred. Cole and Ree, Bailey and I—we have nothing to do with you
and Haden. Whatever you two decide to do for you is up to you. It just didn’t
work for us. And that’s fine.”

“Have
you talked to her since the breakup?”

“We
talked for a few minutes last night, since we’re ‘friends,’ but it was weird,”
he answers, but doesn’t elaborate. “So have you figured out our route yet?” he
asks, essentially changing the subject.

I
pull out my phone and find the list of places everyone chose for the trip. “We
have seven days, right?” I confirm to make sure we won’t lose time on either
end of the trip.

“Yeah.
I have to leave for New York the day after we get home, so there’s not much
room for changing things up.”

“Well,
I’d like to leave early so we can hit up Roswell on the first night. That means
we can reach California by the end of the next day. Right?”

“Whose
idea was Roswell, anyway?” he complains.

“Braxton’s,
of course,” I laugh.

“I
figured that had to be Cole’s—wait, where did he choose?”

“Tombstone,”
I smile.

He
shakes his head and looks around to see what else he needs to pack before
crossing his arms over his chest and turning his eyes back to me. With this
head cocked to the side and the look of concern, he has me worried.

“Are
you planning on checking to see if your birth mom is still in California?”

“Actually,”
I pause, but he finishes for me.

“You
stalked her, didn’t you?” he teases.

I
shake my head, and lie across his bed and stare at the ceiling. In a week, I’ll
be face to face with the mom I didn’t know existed. In a week, my entire world
could change and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Sensing the shift in my
mood, he stops packing, lies opposite me, and mimics my posture.

“I’m
not sure I should do this,” I say aloud.

“You
don’t have to do anything. If you decide last minute that you don’t want to go
through with it, we’ll be there with you. And if you decide that you do, we’ll
be there. But this is your choice—there is no right or wrong answer.”

“I
think my parents are hurt that I want to find her.”

“Did
they say that?”

“They
didn’t have to,” I whisper. “How can they not be hurt?”

“Worried,
maybe. Sad? I don’t know
,
that doesn’t really seem to
be their style. They want you to be happy, and if seeing this woman makes you
happy, then I’m sure they want that for you.”

“I
know, you’re right. Maybe I’m just using this as my excuse to back out.”

He
pats my hand, sits up so he can look down at me, and shrugs. “Like I said, no
right or wrong answer. You’ll know when the time’s right.”

“Jeez,
first in your class and suddenly you think you know everything,” I laugh.

“I
do
know everything,” he boasts in his
loud, booming voice.

“Okay,
so back to the trip.” I sit up and grab my phone again. “I figure we can hit LA
on the third day and White Sands on the way back home.”

“Whatever
you say, navigator,” he looks at his watch and points outside. “Lai, don’t you
have somewhere to go?”

“I’m
late. I love you, Joey. Call you later,” I say in a rush as I scramble to my
feet so I can get home.

* * *

“I’ll
be driving tonight,” I say to Haden as we leave my house.

“My
car?” he asks with a tinge of apprehension.

“I
was going to drive my new, or rather, my parent’s old car that they gave me,
but if you
want
me to drive yours,
I’m game,” I say quickly.

“They
gave you the car?”

“Yeah,”
I squeal. “Dad says I need something for school, so it’s mine.”

“I
guess that’s a pass on driving my car,” he states as he walks toward the gray
four-door in the driveway.

“Don’t
pretend for a second you were going to willingly let me drive your precious car,”
I tease. “Besides, I know where we’re going and you don’t.”

“Do
I get a hint?”

He
climbs into the passenger side and I start the engine as excitement and nerves
fill me. I hope he likes what I have planned.

“I
should make you wear a blindfold,” I tease, remembering the carnival date.

He
relaxes into the seat and adjusts the radio to music he likes before taking my
hand in his. I want to laugh because he has no idea where we’re going, or that
it will take less than ten minutes to get there. When I turn down Main I notice
that he sits up a little taller, probably trying to figure it out.

“We’re
here,” I announce when I throw the car into park on the side of the street.

“Why
are we at the gallery?”
Haden’s brow furrows in confusion.

“I
talked to Stefon and asked him if we could have the place for the night. I want
you to show me how to draw.”

“That’s
not really something I can teach in one night,” he answers, reaching for my
hand.

“Humor
me.” I stand in front of him and exaggeratedly flutter my eyelashes.

We
walk inside and everything looks empty in the lobby, except for the two easels
that are next to each other. Stefon told me that Haden would be uncomfortable
working in front of me, but he also said it would be good for him to try.

“What
are we going to draw?” he asks, looking around the room.

I
point to the decorative red velvet couch against the wall and laugh. “Can we
start with something easy?” I ask.

I
take a seat in front of the large sketchpad and wait for Haden to give me
instruction about how to start. The extent of my ability is resigned to stick
figures, so anything above that is an improvement.

He
begins talking and tells me to study the piece of furniture—things that
strike me about it. I keep my eyes trained while he talks, but make no move to
touch the pencil or anything else. He’s in his element, talking about things
that he loves, and I mentally pat myself on the back for choosing something
like this for our date.

“When
you’re ready, pick up the pencil and decide where you want to start—but draw
lightly.”

I
do as he says and start with the arm farthest from me. Haden makes all of this
look and sound so easy; it’s anything but. He stands behind me and I can feel
his eyes watching every movement and stroke of the lead. Every once in a while,
his hand takes mine as he demonstrates a technique in more detail, and the
action sends a shiver down my arm.

Painfully
and carefully, I do my best to draw the couch as I see it, but the completed
drawing is a far cry from the original. I step back and look at the drawing and
laugh at the distortion of the couch—one arm is skinny and the other is
too plump, while the cushion is lumpy. The whole thing looks terrible, but it
was fun.

“You
have to do yours now.” I point to his blank canvas.

“I’m
not drawing a couch,” he mocks. “Go sit down, I’ll draw you.”

“It’s
not getting all
Titanic
up in here,”
I cross my arms over my chest and laugh.

He
takes my hand and leads me to the couch to sit, and I feel completely exposed.
It’s not easy to get comfortable when you know someone is watching you, and
less so when that someone says he’s going to draw you.

“Haven’t
you drawn enough pictures of me?” I’ve only seen the ones at the exhibit. If
there are more, I don’t know. I’m merely trying to get out of this awkward
situation.

With
the easel in hand, Haden walks over and sets it down closer to the couch, and I
see his arm moving over the canvas.

“Just
relax,” he smiles.

I
release a loud breath and lay my hands across the arm and rest my chin over them.
His eyes move from me to the canvas and I try to remain still, but it’s hard.

“Are
you ready for the trip?” I ask, because I’m looking for any distraction.

“Pretty
much. Mom seems to be doing better since she started her meetings, so if I
leave for a few days, she should be fine,” he says.

“I’m
glad you two talked.”

“I
knew she’d be embarrassed after prom, but I didn’t think it would be what
finally got her straight,” he says. His eyes are focused on the drawing, but
he’s still here with me. I move to the far side and lean my head against one of
the pillows, extending my legs to make myself comfortable.

“What
about you? Are you going to be okay leaving her for school?”

“My
mom’s been through a lot. I know that it’s been hard for her since my dad died,
but she’s tough. And I can’t put my life on hold and stick around just to make
sure she doesn’t start drinking again.” He looks sad to say the words aloud,
and I know he hasn’t said it before.

“She’s
proud of you, you know?” I remind him. “She wants you to be happy.”

“I
know,” he admits. “And as long as I have my art—and you—I am
happy.”

I
let out a yawn while we continue to talk about the upcoming trip, Bailey and
Joey’s breakup, and everything in between. Somewhere along the way, I drift to
sleep, but I’m not sure for how long because Haden kneeling on the floor next
to the couch awakens me.

“C’mon,
sleepy girl, let’s go,” he says, brushing my hair out of my face.

I
lift my head up from the seat and wonder how I ended up face down on my
stomach. I’m disoriented, but the reality of where I am hits me and I sit up,
embarrassed that I dozed off.

“How
long did I sleep?” I ask, wiping away a small spot of drool from the side of my
mouth.