Chapter 20
THE INNER CIRCLE
I had to hit the “dressing room” before we could cut out. I jockeyed for position at one of the locker room sinks to clean up, scrubbed the makeup off my face, then fixed my hair before changing into regular clothes.
And then I went to get Layla.
She was waiting at the payphones in the main lobby. I took an extra second to look her over, to assure myself that she was really and truly here with me tonight. I was determined to make it a great night.
I claimed her with a hand at her back as we walked out the front doors and down to the parking lot just like I’d done all those months before for the very first time. I wished there was a crowd this time, too. But instead, I’d have to content myself with making an entrance at the party with the prettiest girl on my arm.
I opened the door to my Bronco and helped Lay into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel and turning the ignition. Before I even had myself buckled in, she asked, “When did you get a CD player in this thing?”
“Christmas.”
She bounced up and down excitedly in her seat. “Oooh. I call DJ!”
How could I deny her anything at this point? As if I would.
I couldn’t help but smile as she navigated my CD changer, abusing the skip function until she landed on Bleach, and then flipped through the tracks to “About a Girl.”
“Awesome. I love Nirvana!”
My hand froze in the act of putting the truck in gear. “How do you know about Nirvana?”
“I discovered them in December. I’m obsessed.”
“And I’m impressed,” I shot back as I pulled out of the lot.
The party was at Heather’s house. I’d gotten to know the theater kids pretty well over the past months, and truth be told, was grateful to them for being friends to me while I was MIA from my core crew. I hoped they’d be cool with the fact that I was bringing an “outsider” into their midst.
But of course, the first person I saw when we walked through the door was Shelly Markham. She was a bit of a bitch, yet somehow always managed to have a few lemmings surrounding her.
Like she did tonight.
When she saw me walk in with Layla, she didn’t hesitate to put on her snottiest voice to say hello. Then she gave Layla the once-over before whispering something to her friends.
Jesus. Sheathe the claws, Shelly.
I squeezed Layla’s hand, trying to put her at ease. I was also hoping she wouldn’t retaliate. I didn’t need this night to come to an end before it ever had a chance to begin. We just needed to get past the front door, for godsakes. I knew the rest of the people at this party wouldn’t give her such a hard time.
I hastily ushered Lay to the back of the house in my quest to find our hostess. My girl could’ve used a good dose of nice right about then, and Heather was the sweetest person I knew. I may have been a little too relieved to see her because I didn’t hesitate to kiss her hello. She flustered at my greeting and stammered in the simple act of welcoming us into her home.
Layla bridged the awkwardness by complimenting my new friend on her performance. “Heather, I really enjoyed the show tonight! You were great as Sergeant Sarah Brown!”
Heather blushed and answered, “Thank you.” She put a hand on my arm to add, “Trip was such a huge help to me—to everyone. We wouldn’t have been able to pull this thing off without him.” The two girls shared a smile before Heather asked, “Can I get you a drink?”
Layla hemmed as she looked around the kitchen. “Sure. A Coke will be great.”
Heather directed us over to the fully stocked bar in the dining room, causing Layla to change her order. “Or I guess wine will do!”
I poured Layla a glass of red and grabbed myself a Bud before leading her out onto the deck, trying to carve out a few minutes of alone time. Lay and I hadn’t hung out in months, and I was looking forward to having her all to myself for a little while. We had a lot of shit to sort out.
But of course, the deck was already occupied by David Beale, the guy who played Nathan Detroit. He was a decent guy, but come on dude, couldn’t he see I was with a gorgeous lady? Leave.
As Dave and I made small talk about the play, Layla was left to do nothing more than smile politely and sip her drink. Once her glass was running low, she excused herself to go inside. I hoped she wasn’t rethinking her decision to come to this thing. But she returned quickly enough, giving me the excuse to wrap up my conversation with Dave, who thankfully took the hint and made himself scarce.
And there we were.
Trip and Layla. Together again.
She leaned against the railing and took a huge breath, and no, I won’t lie and say I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to check out her tits. I couldn’t help it. After so many months apart, she happened to me all over again.
I leaned against the railing next to her in a deliberate attempt to stop staring at her chest, training my eyes on our surroundings instead. Being out on that deck reminded me of the first party we were at together back in September at Rymer’s.
“So,” I started in, giving her a nudge. “How are you liking your first theater party?”
That made her laugh. I knew she’d get the reference. Even more, she took the opportunity to bust my balls. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and slouched over to respond, “It’s cool. Ever-one’s bein’ reeeally cool.”
Is that supposed to be me? “Jesus. Do I really sound like that?” I asked.
“Yes. That’s what you sound like exactly.”
Her comment had me barking out a laugh before I shook my head in mock disappointment.
God. I really missed her.
“So, hey!” she said eagerly. “Tell me how hockey went!”
I grinned as I answered, “Pretty well, actually. We kicked ass all over the state and almost clinched a spot in the nationals, but blew it at the last minute.”
Her bottom lip tipped out as she sympathized with my plight. “Aww. That sucks.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.” I tossed my empty bottle into the trash can before giving her some highlights from the season. “The coach was cool. He asked me to join his MVP team in the fall. If I do it, I’ll get to travel all over, meet pro players and stuff.”
She looked impressed. “Wow! Are you going to do it?”
I shot her a sidelong glance. “Still thinking about it.” I couldn’t breathe from the look of wonder and appreciation on her face, and ran a hand over my hair as I regained my bearings. “Hey, so what about you? Tell me what’s been going on in Warren World.”
“Wellll... Have you seen my new car?”
That I did. As much as I was trying to pretend she didn’t exist, her vintage red Mustang was hard to ignore. I’d been drooling over the thing all month. “I have. Do you love it?”
She put a hand to her heart, fluttered her lashes, and sighed dramatically, “More than you can imagine.”
Oh, I can imagine, alright.
Before I had the chance to respond, Lay plucked a chip from a bowl on the table and offered casually, “Oh. And in other news... I got into NYU...”
“Lay, shut up! That’s great!”
“Yeah. They have a really good creative writing program. Plus, I mean, it’s New York! Lisa got into F.I.T., so we’re going to get an apartment together. I’m kinda psyched.”
“I’ll bet.”
I went to toast her big news when I realized we were both empty, so I offered to get us another round. She wasn’t going to last very long going drink for drink with me. Or outpacing me... Was this Layla’s second or third glass?
While I was back in the house fixing our drinks, I had a direct line of sight into the living room where I spotted Roger Freeland. The guy was head of the A/V Club, so Miss Tate had recruited him to handle any electronic aspects of the play. He was pretty damn good at his job.
Apparently, he was also a glutton for punishment, because he was presently in the process of hitting on Shelly Markham.
I watched the poor guy crash and burn as Shelly shot him down. Ouch. Harsh. Thankfully for him, there weren’t too many other people around to witness the exchange. Dude was better off, honestly. Roger was a nice guy and Shelly was a bitch on wheels.
I brought our drinks back out and told Layla about it. I whispered the next part in her ear under the guise of trying to be inconspicuous, but really, I just wanted the excuse to be near her. “She turned him down flat.”
Layla snort-laughed as she said, “Lucky guy.”
I chuckled as I handed over her glass of wine and clinked my bottle against it in a toast. “Bottoms up, buttercup.”
She downed a sizeable gulp before asking, “Whatrya tryin’ to get me drunk tonight, Chester?”
I was gearing up to make a comment about how she was getting herself drunk just fine without my help, but suddenly, I registered what she’d just said.
My beer froze suspended in the air halfway to my lips as I stared at her in astonishment. Coming out with a name like Chester was no accident. How the hell did she find out my middle name?
You read that right, folks. The C in Terrence C. Wilmington III stands for Chester. I’d been able to keep that information top secret for my entire life.
Until now.
“What did you just call me?”
Layla took an extra second to realize that she’d slipped. She lowered her glass as her eyes went wide... finally erupting in a choked cackle before promptly doubling over in hysterics.
Her uncontrollable laughter almost brought her to her knees. It was hard not to join in. “Are you kidding me?” I snickered, still in disbelief. “How in the hell do you know that?”
She was still dying laughing, literally holding her sides as she tried to explain. “Oh my God! Oh holy shit I’m dying. I totally didn’t mean to call you that.”
“But how do you know?”
She steadied herself against the patio table as she took a deep breath and got herself under control. “Your driver’s license. I snuck a peek the day you filled out your application for Totally Videos.”
“Are you serious? You’ve known all this time and never said anything?”
“I didn’t think too many people knew. I figured I’d better keep it to myself.”
“No one knows. I’ve been able to keep that under wraps in every city I’ve ever lived in.” Thank God for that. No one was ever able to figure it out.
I was still gaping at her in disbelief when I said, “Ho. Ly. God. Layla Effing Warren! You know I have to kill you now to keep you silent, right? I mean, seriously. I have to end you now. So what will it be? Death by Manilow?”
She got her breathing under control and wobbled on her feet as she steadied herself against the table.
“Firthst of all,” she slurred. “My middle name is not ‘Effing.’”
Shit. Is she drunk? “Hey, ah... You okay there, Lay-Lay?”
She waved me off and continued, “And B... I kep your little secret to myself for...” She started counting on her fingers and I tried not to laugh at her.
“Eight months,” I provided helpfully.
“Eight months!” she repeated. “I din’t tell anyone. Not even you,” she added with a poke against my chest. “So there, pal.”
I couldn’t stop the grin that eked from my lips. Drunk Layla was too entertaining for words. She was also kind of grossly chomping down on a handful of Doritos as she sputtered out, “And firdly, I happen to wike Bawwy Maniwow. And Mandy is the best song in the history of music! So there!”
She picked up her wine with a flourish, intending to punctuate her statement with a dramatic swig when I stopped her with a hand around the glass. “Whoa there, pardner. I think it’s time we cash in our chips.”
“I’m fine.”
“Layla. You’re defending Barry Manilow with a vengeance. I wouldn’t exactly say you’re ‘fine.’”
I ditched our drinks on the kitchen counter as I escorted Layla through the house. Heather took one look at us and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh no. Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” I chuckled. “Thanks for having us tonight. Sorry we have to cut out early.”
I shuffled us through the living room en route to the front door, but just then, Layla wrested her arm from my grasp and went stomping over toward Shelly and her entourage. “Hey Shelly!” she snarled.
Oh shit. I was into a girl fight as much as the next guy, but not when it was between two of my friends. Before I could redirect Layla out the door, she said in the sweetest voice imaginable, “Nice seeing you. Thanks for letting me crash your party. Goodnight, girls!”
Shelly didn’t look as though she knew how to respond and simply bade us a stuttering good night. I ushered Layla out the door before she could think better of her cheery goodbye and give those girls their proper what-for.
I helped her up into the passenger seat of my truck and buckled her in before walking around the back of the car, peeking in the rear window to see her slumped in her seat with her head against the window.
This was going to be interesting.
I got us to her house in one piece and helped her out of the cab. I had a hand at her elbow, but she promptly broke my hold to jump for a leaf off her tree. She couldn’t reach, though, and on her third attempt, almost stumbled off the curb. I put my hands on her upper arms and steadied her on her feet before jumping up and grabbing one for her. I didn’t know what her deal was with that tree, but this wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen her do that.
I directed her up the walkway while she inspected the leaf in her hand as if it were the loveliest gift anyone had ever given her. Jesus, she must’ve been loaded.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked.
She leaned against her front door and looked up at me with adoring eyes. God, I didn’t realize how much I missed those gorgeous brown eyes looking at me like that.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll be fine. Nothing a big glass of water and some aspirin won’t take care of.”
She put her hand on the doorknob, but before I could say a final goodnight, she turned toward me and bit her lip. “Hey, so... I just gotta ask... What was this tonight? Why the sudden urge to play nice?”
“I don’t know, Lay,” I said to my shoes. I could’ve asked her the same thing, but we both knew I was the one who offered the olive branch.
I snatched the leaf from her and gave a rub to the back of my neck with my free hand. “You know what? That’s not true. I know exactly why.”
I took a deep breath and just spilled it. “When I told you before, you remember? About how being on that stage tonight was no big deal? I wasn’t being totally honest with you. The fact is... God, Lay. I never felt anything like that before. I can’t explain it. It was... amazing.”
I hoped I didn’t sound like a complete toolbag, but I’d been bursting with this indescribable feeling all night. It felt good to try and talk it out with somebody, to talk it out with her.
I reached for her hand and sandwiched the leaf between our palms to continue, “When I saw you backstage and realized you’d seen it, I was so... grateful. Grateful that you came there to share that with me. I knew I missed you, but I’d been so stubborn about it for so long... I don’t know. I guess it felt more real having you be a part of it. You know?”
She looked blown away by my admission. But then she explained that she had a confession of her own. I held my breath, waiting for her to make sense of this thing between us. We were friends, sure, but dammit something more than that, too.
“I didn’t know you were in the play until the curtains opened.”
My hopes were dashed as my shoulders drooped. I didn’t try to hide the fact that she’d just eviscerated me. Again.
“No! I mean... Crap. I meant that it was just such an incredible surprise to see you up there. However I wound up in that theater tonight, I’m grateful that I was there to see it, too.”
My face broke into the proudest smile at her words. I could’ve kissed her for the things she just said. Hell, I wanted to anyway. While I was still registering the idea, my hand reached out to her on its own and pulled her face toward mine.
“Surprises are good,” I said, as I leaned in.
But at the last second, I shifted my aim and deliberately landed my lips on the corner of her mouth. I didn’t want our first kiss to be because she was drunk.
She went inside as I slumped back in my truck, the scent of her still invading the space.