THIRTEEN
Layla
Sayo’s skin had always been pale. Alabaster, Layla thought, like porcelain, fine, fragile but strong. Like her friend. Now that skin was even paler and the only blemishes marring that perfection came from the shadows that showed beneath her eyes.
“You sleeping at all?” Layla nodded toward the bench just beyond the courtyard in the center of campus and both girls sat down, warming their hands against the take-away cups of piping hot coffee.
“Not really. My mom made me stay home last night and shoved two sleeping pills down my throat, but I just couldn’t…” Sayo’s dark eyelashes brushed against the swells of her cheeks and from the slow blink, Layla caught her pause. Something unspoken, thoughts she kept to herself remained silent behind her pink lips. “It didn’t work. None of it.” She sipped her coffee, cringing only slightly when she took in too much hot liquid, but then Sayo rested against the bench, forcing a smile at Layla. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
“Sweetie, we all understand. Your family…”
Sayo silenced her with a sharp shake of her head. “You’re all my family too. My blood, it doesn’t run here, Layla. Everything I am, the person I try to be—that comes from the family that raised me and the family I chose when I found you and Autumn and Mollie.” Sayo didn’t look at her when she took her hand, threaded her fingers between Layla’s. “You’re just as much my family as my parents and all my brothers and sisters. I don’t share blood with anybody, but that doesn’t mean you all aren’t in my bones.”
Damn. Layla loved her friends. Even with all Sayo’s distance that semester and the burden she wouldn’t allow any of them to carry for her, Layla felt the emotion of the moment tighten in her chest. She could only nod once and look down at her feet, afraid that if she even glanced at Sayo the tears would start, would likely not end until they were both slobbering messes of ridiculousness.
Layla made her voice soft, shooting for gentleness, for tact that wouldn’t have Sayo upset at just the mention of her little cousin’s name. “Rhea is your family too, honey and she’s all that matters right now.” Sayo’s frown came quick, but she blinked back the emotion and Layla hurried to correct herself. “We missed you at Thanksgiving and you’ve been… busy, but I asked you to come with me tonight because I wanted to apologize for that shit with Donovan at McKinney’s.”
Layla saw the visible release of Sayo’s tension as her shoulders relaxed against the bench and she twisted around, pulling her feet underneath her small body. “What was that about?”
“Nothing that makes any sense at all.” Layla and her friends shared body language, stares and glances that clued each other into warnings, suspicions and completely eradicated any hint of bullshit they may try to slip over each other. Sayo used those clues just then, staring at Layla, her eyes tight until Layla was unable to take the scrutiny and she leaned her head back, staring up at the stars, not bothering to keep the frustration from her tone. “Things have gone stupid with him. It’s all complicated and messy and really not worth talking about.” She grabbed Sayo’s hands, sitting up straight. Talking about Donovan and yet another one of their stupid pranks wasn’t why she’d brought Sayo out that night. She had to focus if she wanted to make this apology count. “I’m a stupid, selfish bitch and most of the time I forget how very tiny I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, sitting up to set her cup on the ground at her feet and pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’m twenty-four. I’m immature and greedy and most days I think I’m in my own sort of vapid orbit. I forget that there are people wishing for the things in life I forget with very little effort.” Layla glanced at Sayo, feeling more relaxed when her friend’s face softened. “I forget that I am very small, that my problems are, compared to all the shit that rises and sets in everyone’s day. I’m sorry.” Sayo let her take her hand and squeezed back when Layla grabbed her fingers. “I’m sorry that this utter bullshit is happening to Rhea. It should be skinheads or pedophiles or greedy corporate jackasses who get rich off their minimum wage workers that get sick. Not smart little girls full of life. This shouldn’t touch her, it shouldn’t touch you, and I forget sometimes that what I think is suffering, is fucking chocolate rainbows compared to others.”
Layla thought she’d said too much, that reminding Sayo of her cousin’s illness, of the hardships her entire family had been facing, had crossed a line she wasn’t supposed to notice existed. It was an unspoken awkwardness that people generally tried not to broach anytime someone was dying. Don’t mention THE sickness. Don’t mention THE finality or the inevitable death that loomed in the distance. Layla hadn’t simply stepped over that line, she’d pirouetted across it like the loud, obnoxious brat she knew she was.
But as Layla watched Sayo, she noticed her friend flirting toward something she hadn’t done in months. Sayo smiled. “Chocolate rainbows?”
“What?” Layla blinked, smiling at Sayo like that grin of her was contagious. She wanted to keep her friend smiling. She wanted to make her forget, just for a few minutes, that her life, her loss, wasn’t the only thing on her mind. Layla did what she was good at. She tried for humor. “Like you wouldn’t step on my head to get to one. Chocolate and rainbows, Sayo. That shit would be awesome.” That smile only grew wider and Layla thought she might have heard a small laugh. It certainly sounded like Sayo’s long withheld giggle.
“Strawberries,” Sayo said, behind a sip of coffee.
“Huh?”
She shrugged, but that grin did not fall. “Strawberry rainbows. I’d cut you for a strawberry rainbow.”
“But chocolate…”
That honest, shocked tone in Layla’s voice struck Sayo as funny and finally, she surrendered to the joke, laughing loud and long and beautifully. “I don’t really like chocolate.” Layla stared at her like she was insane. “We don’t have to like the same things. Besides, you remember that Easter I made myself sick on dark chocolate after the church passion play? Father O’Bryant still takes two step backs from me when he sees me at mass. I haven’t had much taste for it since.”
Layla blinked at her friend, astounded by this shocking revelation. “It’s like you’re not human.”
“Shut up.” Sayo nudged her with her elbow but kept that wide smile on her face.
“What’s going on with Quinn?” Stupid, dumb asshole, Layla called herself when that perfect smile fell from Sayo’s lips.
“What do you mean?”
“Autumn told us that Declan makes him volunteer at the hospital?”
Sayo only nodded, seemed distracted by the question, by the mention of the hospital and the jackass Irishman who had been dumped right into their laps. Layla had seen the way Quinn looked at Sayo. Hell, Autumn had told her about the threat that Declan and Donovan gave him to stay clear of all of them. But something in Sayo’s features told Layla there were details she was missing.
“Deco thought it would give him perspective,” Sayo said, stretching out to cross her feet together on the ground. “He spends a few hours a week there. Most of the time he’s with Rhea.”
“What?”
Sayo nodded, shrugged as though she still couldn’t believe Quinn would be so bold as to intrude on Sayo’s family. “Freaked me out at first. I thought he was angling for a sympathy screw, but then I found him there a few times when I was supposed to be out working. My Aunt Carol told me he reads to Rhea five times a week.”
Layla didn’t know the little jackass knew how to read, much less that he’d spend his time with a dying eight year old. Those two could not have been more different. “Wow. That’s a little…”
“Right? I was suspicious for sure, but then Deco told me Quinn spent the first six years of his life in a children’s hospital in Dublin. He was born with a congenital heart defect. It almost killed him.”
So that was his thing. Quinn O’Malley was bitter. Maybe his parents overcompensated for having birthed a sick kid. Maybe they’d felt guilty that he’d been landed with something in their DNA that could have killed him. Guilty or not, the O’Malleys had raised an entitled asshole, so him taking the time out of his seemingly important day to visit with Rhea was odd and mildly comforting. “So the jackass has a heart.”
Sayo’s shrug was quick, as though she wasn’t willing to put much thought into what Quinn did or the type of person he really was. She seemed focused on other, more important stresses. “I don’t know if he has a heart, the jury’s still out on that one, but he seems to like Rhea. Gets pissy if anyone interrupts their story time and I think my little cousin has acquired a crush.”
What was it, Layla wondered about the female genetic make-up, present in even the young that made them gravitate toward the bad boy? What was it that had little Rhea wanting Quinn’s attention? What was it with Layla, she wondered, that made Donovan seem completely unavoidable. Shaking her head, Layla looked at Sayo, saw that the smile had not returned to her face. “That poor girl.”
“Right?” Sayo said, frowning as she swallowed the last of her coffee.
Layla decided, just then, that she’d get Sayo’s smile back even if only for that one night. She loved Sayo. They were sisters and she wanted her friend to forget about hospitals and rude Irishmen and all the crap that she’d been digging through for months.
“Come on, let’s go to McKinney’s. Get something a little stronger?”
Sayo nodded, eyes closed as if Layla had suggested the perfect solution to the whole crap-shoveling. “God yes.”
As they left the courtyard and walked the several blocks toward town, the activity around them grew. It was a Saturday night just after the end of the Thanksgiving break and students had returned from their families ready to finish up the semester. By contrast, the campus itself was fairly quiet, with only a few stragglers—a stray student or harried-looking professor or two. The night was peaceful as the girls walked arm in arm toward the bustle of the historic district.
McKinney’s was close to the park, just a few blocks from the rugby pitch and near Autumn’s apartment, a fact that the girls had taken advantage of during the past four years. The pub was small, but quaint, comfy and welcoming and just the sight of the large sign swinging against the early December wind had Layla’s insides warming.
They bypassed a small group of rugby players Layla recognized, nodding to a few as they caught her eye. Her gaze wandered away from Sayo’s face as she talked about the crowd around them and the seemingly impromptu concert several drunk musicians had started on the park sidewalk, Layla scanned the passing rugby players, hoping Donovan wasn’t among them.
Sayo stopped near McKinney’s, focus squared on the two guitar players singing a loud, perfectly pitched version of “The Gypsy Rover.” Her smile was brief, barely on her lips, but she somehow seemed more relaxed, her body not as rigid and defensive as it had been. It felt so familiar, normal to Layla, as though she’d returned to a time not long ago before Autumn and Mollie had Declan and Vaughn to distract them from a good time with just their friends.
“I miss this a lot,” Sayo said, seeming to read Layla’s thoughts.
“Smiling?”
“That too.” Sayo stared back at the musicians and Layla joined her, looping her arm through her friend’s as they watched the band continue, joined now by a banjo player and a tall redhead with the thickest beard Layla had ever seen. His harmonica disappeared when he held it to his mouth. “It reminds me of that St. Paddy’s day when Evelyn and your mom took us all to McKinney’s for the first time.”
“I remember. First pint.”
Sayo laughed. “First buzz too.” She shook her head, letting her smile fall a bit. “I mean, I just miss all of us being together. Autumn and Declan will be married before you know it and Mollie and Vaughn…”
“Are too busy with naked time to pay attention to the outside world…”
“Exactly.” Something seemed to come to Sayo then. She pulled Layla away from the sidewalk, near the alley that ran between McKinney’s and the cold sub shop. “I’m such a shit.”
“Not especially.” Layla waved her off, dismissing Sayo’s self-deprecating admission.
“I just realized that you and I are sort of odd women out. Our best friends are coupled off and you’ve been completely on your own while I’ve been… distracted this semester.”
“Sayo, no. It’s not a big deal. You have your family.” That quick glare was severe and Layla shrugged, silently apologizing for her small slip before Sayo could yell at her. “You know what I mean. I’ve been fine. I’ve been…”
“What? Finally getting hot and heavy with Donovan?” Layla should have expected the slight. It was their way—poke at the most ludicrous, the most offensive insult that could reap the loudest protest. Sayo didn’t have a clue what Layla had kept hidden from all of her friends these past couple of months, Layla was certain of that, but when the teasing jab caused her to gasp involuntarily, then stand there blinking with her mouth gaping open, she knew she’d given herself away.
And she knew suddenly, with a certainty, that there would be no lying to her friend. They knew each other too well. Not about anything this significant—and yeah, Layla falling into Donovan’s bed over and over again was the single most significant thing that had happened to her all fall.
“Oh my God. I was joking. I was… I mean, are you?” Layla couldn’t look at her. That guilt, the shame she still felt anytime she thought about being with Donovan came back heavy and she could only look down the sidewalk, avoiding the hard stare she felt Sayo leveling at her. A small gasp that matched the one Layla had just made and Sayo pulled her further away from the sidewalk traffic. “Honey, what the hell?”
“How did you find out?”
“I didn’t know.” She held up her hands, surrendering, promising that no one had outted her. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I just, I was just teasing because of the prank and Autumn told me he kept staring at you, touching you at Thanksgiving.” Sayo’s voice lowered and she sounded awed, amazed. “I was making a stupid joke, but… you and Donovan?”
They both paused, attention pulled toward the group of rugby players who had stopped near the musicians across the street. Layla absently scanned their faces, seeing the familiar smiles but not the one she knew best. Finally, with Sayo’s gaze back on her profile, Layla closed her eyes, inhaled deep to strengthen herself for the confession she was about to make. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Are you shitting me? It’s the biggest deal ever. Come on, Layla, I’ve been stuck around a horny Irishman and a bunch of sick kids and sad people.” She grabbed Layla’s arm, making her face her. “You have to give me details. Are you two…”
“No. God, no.” The denial should have been old hat by now. It certainly felt familiar since she’d told Mollie the same thing. And she meant it. At least, she thought she did. “It’s nothing like that at all. We’re just… enemies with benefits.” Layla shrugged her shoulders and moved her head in a weird half nod, half shake.
“Huh.” Sayo didn’t frown, and the tension that had shaken Mollie’s features that night on Joe’s patio didn’t come close to matching the mild humor on Sayo’s face. “I guess I lost the bet.”
Head tilted, Layla stepped back from her friend, automatically defensive. “What bet?”
“Oh Autumn and I have had an almost year-long bet going that you and Donovan would start with the naked time before you graduated.” Layla wanted to yell at her, but that smile returned, followed by a quick laugh and Layla determined she’d keep the mood light, give Sayo a reason to smile that night. She couldn’t hold on to her irritation. Layla would let her friend tease her and managed to not roll her eyes when Sayo’s smile widened and the beautiful Japanese girl’s face lit bright and happy as she continued to laugh. “I thought you wouldn’t do anything until he was off your father’s squad. Autumn will be so damn smug.”
Good humor or not, Layla stopped her. “Sayo, no, please. You can’t tell her. Please, I’m begging you.”
Suddenly, the air in her lungs felt thick and Layla grabbed onto Sayo’s arms, hoping that the worry in her eyes would make her understand how very bad it would be if Autumn learned the truth.
“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” she asked when Layla looked around them, eyes stretching over the crowd as she pulled Sayo close, fingers squeezing into her arms as though she would keep the blonde grounded on that sidewalk. “God, Layla, did he, he didn’t force himself on you, did he?”
“No.” Layla closed her eyes, shook her head as though that small movement would keep the memory of her and Donovan together from her thoughts. “God. Most time he gets me so worked up I’m this close to begging for it.” Sayo flared her nostrils and Layla cringed at herself for that admission. “I’m sorry. It’s very, um, well, it’s a lot hotter than I thought it would be, but honey, you can’t tell Autumn. Not yet. Please.”
“Layla… she’s my best friend…”
“I’m asking you to keep this secret for me.” The frown returned to Sayo’s face and Layla could tell she was annoyed that she’d put her in the position of keeping anything from Autumn. Layla was desperate, anxious about the redhead finding out. She loved Autumn, she really did, but God, the woman had a big mouth. Trying to keep herself from truly freaking out, Layla took a breath and folded her arms, blinking once before she spoke. “I’m calling in my favor.”
Those black eyes of Sayo’s grew round, and as soon as Layla noticed how quickly her friend’s features shifted, moving through surprise and shock, straight back to unguarded annoyance, she knew Sayo wouldn’t say a word to Autumn. She also knew that Sayo didn’t appreciate how dirty she fought. “Layla, we were seventeen.”
“Uh huh and you didn’t study because you were hung over from Leslie Anderson’s party. It was my mom that got that covered for you, remember and that test was the single most important one of your life. At least, as a senior in high school, and I caught so much shit for faking that seizure to give you a diversion.”
Sayo looked down, worked the tip of her boot into the cracks in the sidewalk. “I had to pass that test, Layla. It was the only time.” She looked back up at her, annoyed still, possibly hurt. “It’s the only time I ever cheated and Sister Allen was shit at remembering to lock her office. It was the only time I didn’t work my ass off in class and I’ve repaid that little karmatic screw up a thousand times.”
“I’m sorry. I feel shitty for asking, Sayo, but Autumn would tell Declan, you know she would.”
They watched each other for a moment, quiet, still and Layla only released her held breath when Sayo lowered her shoulders and grunted once. “Okay, she’d totally tell Declan.”
“Yep and he’d kick Donovan’s ass. It would be very bad.”
Sayo shook her head. “Last semester you would have paid money to see Donovan get his ass kicked and now you’re trying to avoid it. I knew you liked him.”
“I like how hard he makes me come, Sayo. I have zero problems with him getting his ass kicked, but Declan doing it would be damn inconvenient not only for the drama it would cause between our group but because my dad would bitch for weeks.” Layla closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking at the idea of her father’s loud, annoyed voice. “I hate when he does that. Besides, Autumn has her classes and Declan and Donovan have Conference coming up, the whole squad is stressed out and there is just too many stupid things that could happen if they find out about me and Donovan.” She took Sayo’s hand, hoping she’d made her see reason. “Just let it go for now.”
“Find out what about you and Donley?” Walter said, standing right behind Layla.
Layla let her head fall back, cursing her luck, cursing herself for having this conversation with Sayo out on a public sidewalk. Walter stood four feet from her, dressed in that stupid campus police uniform with his walkie talkie on his hip. She half expected him to be pouting when she turned toward him and had to force herself not to laugh at the scowl he gave her. He looked like a violently hacked off puppy dog.
“Walter, what are you doing here?”
“I know this shithole is your favorite place to get loud and drunk,” he said, nodding toward the pub behind them. Then, he touched her shoulder. She hated when he did that. It made her feel like a kid. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s going on between you and Donley?”
“That isn’t really any of your business.” Layla appreciated Sayo. She loved that she automatically came to her defense even when she was annoyed and frustrated by what Layla had asked of her.
But if Sayo hoped to be a threat to the over-tall, too lanky Walter, she failed miserably. He barely glanced at Layla’s friend, looked, in fact, like she was a distraction he couldn’t be bothered with. “Sayo, would you, um, give us a moment? Please? If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Woah,” Layla interrupted, grabbing Sayo’s wrist so she wouldn’t walk away. “I mind. She isn’t going anywhere.”
“Layla, please. I’m miserable here. I just need… please. I need you to answer my questions.” God, she hated how whiny he could be. His voice was too high, and those baby face features of his prevented her from taking him seriously even just a bit threatening.
Layla elbowed Sayo when the girl covered her laugh with a cough. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say it in front of my friend.”
“Well, I mean, that’s not… that is to say…” When Layla only stared at Walter, a small scowl shaking her top lip, he relented, but still attempted some semblance of confidence with the lift of her pointy chin. “Fine. I miss you, darling. And I think you’re being very… well, you’re being quite cruel. We expected you for dinner on Thursday and you just, I had to come up with a lie to explain why you weren’t there. God, Layla, I hate lying to my mother. She was quite upset that you weren’t with me on Thanksgiving.”
Wow. He’s completely serious.
“Hey cuckoo clock, did you not get the memo? I broke up with you.”
There were things about Walter that some women might find appealing. Maybe that he was an old-school gentleman. He opened doors, he paid for meals, he insisted on walking Layla to her door if they’d been out too late. Some girls might find all of that sweet, a bit endearing. But Layla had always seen behind the surface. He did those things because he felt it was what he was supposed to do. But none of it was done out of some fierce need to pamper and protect her. He did all of those things like they were burdens he’d have to suffer through if he wanted to be with Layla. It had always made her feel guilty.
“Don’t you think that maybe you’re being quite melodramatic? I want you to come to your senses.”
“Is he for real?” Sayo asked, not bothering to keep her voice quiet.
“I think he might be?”
Just then the pseudo kind, gentle Walter Layla had known for six months completely disappeared. He stomped right in front of Layla, nostrils flaring and teeth gritted as he grabbed Layla’s arm. His long fingers pressed down and though she tried pulling out of his grip, she couldn’t break from that tight hold. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right in front of you.”
Layla felt her breath catch at his instant anger and she tried to step back, too shocked to put up much of a fight when he jerked her again, pulling on her and Sayo acted immediately, taking Layla’s free arm. “That’s enough, Barney Fife. Back the hell up.”
“Shut up!”
“You did not just tell her to shut up.” She turned to Sayo and both girls tugged against Walter’s grip until he stumbled back and released her arm. “Did he just tell you to shut up?”
“He did. If I wasn’t a fucking lady, I’d slap him.”
Layla wasn’t typically a violent person. Her father had made it priority number one for Layla and all of her friends to know how to protect themselves, to know that violence was the last resort when reason and logic could not stop conflict. Walter glared at her, and just then, Layla realized he didn’t have a baby face at all. He wasn’t even mildly attractive to her and she knew if she didn’t stand up to him—stand up and mean it—then he’d never leave her alone. Besides, no one tells her friends to shut up. That was her job.
She didn’t think, really, still too shocked by the complete disappearance of whiny, passive Walter as he charged toward her. A threatening growl left his mouth and the exhausting, nagging training her father had given her kicked in. Walter staggered back, grabbing his foot when Layla stomped on it, and when he swung out, caught her cheek with his flailing hand, she released some weird roar that sounded shocked and pissed off and utterly mental.
Then, she hit in hard, directly on the nose.
“Shit. Ow,” she said, shaking her hand out when the quick throb in her knuckles pulsed hard.
“Closed fist, dufus. Your dad is gonna yell at you for that one. Is it broken?” Sayo took Layla’s hand, glanced at it as both girls watched Walter cup his nose to catch the bright red blood that dripped out of it.
“You hit me! That’s assault.” Walter reached for his cuffs, the only equipment he had that made him look even remotely like a real officer and Layla laughed at him, at how graceless his movements had become and how serious he seemed about cuffing her.
“We aren’t on campus and I didn’t just get a parking violation. You think you’re gonna cuff me?” Both Layla and Sayo jerked out of Walter’s grip when he grabbed for her.
And then, there came disaster. Or a demon, depending on Layla’s mood.
“Layla?”
“Awesome. Just perfect.” Layla rolled her eyes at Sayo when that giddy gleam made her black eyes shine. Sayo always did love to watch a nasty fight.
Donovan had come too late if he’d meant to play hero. Walter was already bleeding, was seething mad as his attempts to grab Layla had failed. But Donovan jogged toward them nevertheless, and stood between Layla and Walter as though he intended to buffer any more of Walter’s threats.
“Is he bothering you?” Donovan asked over his shoulder as he held his arms at his side and his fists white knuckle tight.
“Perpetually, but I popped him.”
“You… you mind your own business, Donley.” It was hard not to laugh at Walter’s threat, especially when his words were muffled by blood and what was probably a clogged and swelling nose.
Donovan stepped up to Walter, stretched his shoulders and they seemed larger, broader, some weird technique all men must be taught when they are punks angling to learn the best way to look like a mean asshole. “Oh, I am minding what’s mine, motherfucker. Back off.”
Layla didn’t have time to really register what Donovan had said. Flippantly, she understood that it was all talk, that he was trying to rile Walter so he’d make a move. She dismissed how possessive he sounded just then and tried not to think about how his words had made her stomach twist and kindled a goofy warmth of pleasure in her chest.
Walter hesitated for just a moment, and then his temper broke. He wiped blood from his nose and rushed Donovan just as Sayo pulled Layla away from them, not letting her step in to stop the fight before it started. The two men commenced in throwing punches at each other, lunging and pushing each other around the sidewalk, and up against McKinney’s large front window.
And because Cavanagh was tiny and the testosterone epidemic on the squad and among the male student body had never been eradicated, the crowd around them grew to obscene levels, made up mostly of antagonizing, eager men who offered advice through their grunts and pleased growls to both Donovan and Walter.
“Dude. Two guys are fighting over you,” Sayo whispered and despite the stupidity of it all, and that base, ridiculous voice in Layla’s head telling her this was like, so very hot, damn, Layla laughed.
Walter, surprisingly, managed to clock Donovan once on the chin, sending him stumbling backward and Layla yelped when he fell against the brick wall and scraped his face on it.
“Oh, that’s it, asshole,” he told Walter, walking toward him slow and confident as he spat once on the ground, flinging the blood from his face. That small spot of red on the sidewalk did something to Donovan; something wild and primeval moved into his eyes and he charged Walter, who barely managed to get his hands up before Donovan hit him, twice on the chin and once on Walter’s already swollen nose.
It had lasted barely two minutes and already Walter was on the ground, covering his nose, wailing and hyperventilating, before Donovan squatted next to him and jerked him into a sitting position by his collar.
“See that woman, Rent-a-Cop?” When Walter didn’t respond quickly enough, Donovan yanked his collar again, forcing a nod from the downed man. “She’s off limits to you. You see her on campus, in town, any fucking where and you so much as look in her direction, I will fucking end you. You feel me?”
“Fine,” Walter said, though it came out as “finb.” And then, “Whatever.”
Donovan stood, his body lithe and tense, looking like he wanted to kick Walter just to take that pouty look off his face, but Layla stopped him, pulling on his wrist.
“He’s not worth it, Donovan.”
He jerked back from her and she retreated, pulled her hand off his arm when she spotted that his lethal anger had not yet abated, and saw the blood along his cheek and on his knuckles. She sighed, remembering herself, not really eager to let Donovan see her worry. “You okay?” Donovan didn’t speak, seemed unable to do much more than stare at her, heaving, still jacked up. Then a comprehension came to him, and something like chagrin spread over his features, like he couldn’t believe he’d come to her defense.
Layla couldn’t think about that right now, would decide later if she should be thankful or insulted by that look. Wanting to defuse the situation, she took his hand, moved a gentle finger over his bloodied knuckles. “My dad will kill you if you can’t catch tomorrow at practice.”
Still, he didn’t speak, even as his hard glare softened, replaced by a look that Layla couldn’t quite define. She had thought at first it was chagrin, but maybe it was amazement. Maybe it was guilt. She couldn’t be sure, but she let Donovan watch her, let him keep silent and focus on her as she examined his knuckles.
They may have stayed there all night, her touching him, him staring at her like she was remarkable, possibly the devil made flesh, but Sayo interrupted them, touched Layla’s back as she spoke low and quiet to keep what she said from being heard by the dispersing crowd. “Get him home, Layla, before the real cops show up.” She nodded to the other players and they hurried the crowd along, moving with an unspoken, understood reaction to keep their squad mate from any real trouble. “Patch him up, make sure he gets home okay.”
The look Sayo gave her was unusual; an unexpected comment on Layla’s role that night, on how she was changing. That look told Layla that Sayo was now alone, that she was now the only uncoupled friend among their group. It was a silent understanding that Layla thought she should deny and she meant to, wanted to. But Sayo kissed her cheek and left one long, close look before she walked away from them.