Chapter Two
Layla
Omigod! Omigod! I don’t know why I just agreed to meet his entire family. Are we really at that step in our relationship? I don’t think I’m ready for this.
I didn’t meet Adam’s family until we had been seeing each other for a good five months, and even that was by pure accident. I ran into them during one of those free physical screenings at school. Talk about awkward. His mom had this look on her face like, “who’s this girl hugging my son?” She called me “dearest,” and Adam, well, he stood there turning red like I was embarrassing him in front of his mother. His little sister gave me the stink eye. His dad kept clearing his throat.
Tyler and I have only been dating officially for a week. What if his family hates me? What if they take one look at me and tell him to dump me?
I’m freaking out. The other issue that has me worked up; is Christmas. Yeah, I know it comes every year. But things around our house have been a little bland since my dad died. Our house used to be decked out in decorations. Since my dad’s death, my mom just puts up a tree, if you can even call it that. It’s a five-foot artificial tree, and this year, only two parts of it are lit. She doesn’t care enough to buy a new one or add lights to it. I miss our banisters and every other section of the house decorated with ribbons and garland and the smell of cinnamon wafting throughout the house. Instead, it looks like we’re celebrating Halloween or some other holiday we’re not really into.
Aside from my house lacking the Christmas spirit, I’m worried about gifts. Not in receiving but giving. Am I supposed to only get Tyler a gift, or am I supposed to get ones for his family too? And what do I possibly get a guy who already has everything?
I fly down the hall and enter my sister’s room. I wave my hand in front of my face as the smell of rancid body odor, sweat, and Doritos fill my nasal cavity. It reeks of an old sweaty gym in here. It’s so gross, I can feel my stomach churning. “Juliet, I love you, but holy shit, go take a shower.”
“Erm …” She lifts an arm, sniffs her pit, and makes a meh face. “I’m good.”
I can’t take her “I don’t give a shit” attitude anymore. Holding my breath, I make my way over to her windows and pray something doesn’t crawl out from under piles of trash littering her floor and bite me. This behavior is very unlike my usually neat-freak twin. “When is the last time you even let in some sunlight?” I step over her and the dress she wore to the winter formal, lying near the edge of her bed. I make it to the blinds and yank them open. Juliet hisses like a demon. I glance back at her and take in her disheveled appearance. “That’s it, you are getting a bath.”
I reach for her arm. “Don’t touch me,” she says as she taps her right thumb and left finger mindlessly against the controller in her hand. “Ha. Take that, you stupid egotistical asshole!”
“Juliet!” I snap.
She isn’t paying attention to a word I say. I can’t stand to see her like this. I grab her by the upper arm and pull her to the door.
“Hey! What the heck are you doing? Layla! I’m in the middle of beating this level!” She tries to plant her feet but I jerk harder. She loses her balance and I lose my grip. Her butt slams against the ground while the controller she was clutching flies out of her hand and collides with the floor. When it shatters, Juliet’s eyes widen.
“You’re freaking dead!” she screams. Juliet pushes herself off the ground, and I take off in a full-on sprint. She follows closely, which is a good thing and a bad one. Good because she’s out of her room and moving. Bad because she’s ticked off and quicker than me. It won’t be long before she catches up and unleashes all her anger.
I fly down the stairs and rip open the front door, ready to sprint down the street if I must. My body collides into a solid wall. Arms wrap around me, and I scream.
“Layla! It’s me! Quit yelling before someone calls the cops on us. Jeez. If you didn’t want to go on our movie date, all you had to do was tell me,” Tyler chuckles.
I look up at my sexy savior. “What are you doing here so early?” I ask, momentarily forgetting why I was running in the first place.
“Movie. Remember? We literally talked about it twenty minutes ago and … whoa, Juliet, nice to see you.”
I look back at my sister and cringe. “You’re so dead! Don’t think just because he’s here I won’t rip your hair out,” she snarls.
“Whoa-whoa-whoa! No one is ripping my girlfriend’s hair out.” He moves me behind him, keeping me out of view of my sister. “I don’t give a damn if you’re related or not. It’s not happening on my watch. Tell me what caused this need to kill her, and we’ll go from there,” Ty says.
I peer around his side. Juliet blinks at him. “What?”
“What caused this?” Ty asks her.
Juliet points at me. “She broke my controller. After she ruined my chance to beat my high score.”
“It was an accident. You need to wash your hair. You smell!” I fire back at her.
Tyler shifts and says, “Juliet, you do have this whole cavewoman look about you. I am sure Layla was just trying to help you out. Tell you what though, we’re going to be going shopping. We will pick you up a new controller. But you’ve got to clean up a bit. Put on a clean shirt at least.”
She scowls at him. “Both of you can bite me right now.” She turns and heads back up the stairs.
“So, is that a yes, to getting cleaned up?” Tyler asks.
She flips him off right before she disappears out of sight. Tyler looks back at me, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I think she really wanted to kill me.”
“Hey, you broke her controller. That’s a sacred thing,” he says with a goofy smirk.
“Is it?” I tease. I walk my fingers up his chest and say, “So if I broke your controller, would you be mad at me?”
“I’d be furious,” he says with a wink. “Ready to go?”
I glance down at my own outfit. “Should I change?”
“Absolutely not. I love you in yoga pants.”
I smack his arm playfully. “You’re such a perv.”
He shrugs. “What? I can’t help what I love.”
I shake my head while smiling and follow him out the door.
We can’t decide on a movie, so we end up running an errand his mother texted him about. From the way Tyler groans and grumbles, I’m definitely not up to meeting his family.
“How big is this party with your family going to be?” I ask. I’m still freaking out that his family will hate me.
“It’s going to be big. Look, if you want to ditch, I completely get it.”
We walk into the florist shop and head toward the counter.
I examine the pre-made bouquets, too scared to see his face when I say, “I don’t know.”
“Layla, if you don’t want to do it, I swear it’s fine. We won’t do it.” I can feel him staring at me.
I skim the rose petals and sigh. “Do you not want me to go?”
“That’s not what I said. This is your choice. If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. That’s all.”
“I’m just worried. What if your sister or mom hates me?”
He chuckles, then his lips graze my earlobe as his arms wrap tight around my waist. “Babe, no one will hate you. If they do, who gives a shit?” He turns me so I’m facing him then his lips drop to mine.
“I mean are you dating me or my family?” he asks.
I give him an annoyed look. “You.”
“Great because I like dating you, and that’s all that matters. Everyone else can screw themselves,” he says after he kisses me.
“Mr. Richardson,” an older lady chimes. “How lovely to see you. You’re getting more and more handsome by the day.” She eyes me like she can’t wait to pick up the phone and call Tyler’s mom to rat him out.
“Hello, Mrs. Cramlet. I’m here to pick up my mom’s centerpieces for the fundraiser.”
She stares at me, looking hopefully from me and then back at Tyler. Uncomfortable silence. I nudge Tyler with my elbow.
“This is Layla, my girlfriend,” he says, like a good boyfriend.
“Oh, how nice to meet you.” Mrs. Cramlet looks like she just ate something sour. “I’ll go get those centerpieces for your mother.” She smiles and then vanishes behind a doorway made of navy-blue beaded curtain.
The moment she’s gone, Tyler kisses my lips again then pulls me toward the counter. “It’s hard to behave around you. You know that?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s such a strain,” I say while giggling.
“It really is.” His mouth brushes against mine but when Mrs. Cramlet returns, he lets me go. She hands him a clear box with ten centerpieces inside. “Thanks, Mrs. Cramlet.”
The woman, probably in her late sixties, waves him off. “Not a problem, dear. It’s my pleasure. How about something for your girlfriend? My treat.” She looks at me. “Would you care for some roses?”
I smile. “That’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, dear. I want to. Go ahead. Pick something,” she says.
Tyler leans close to me with the large box in his hand. “You should listen to her. She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
With that little tidbit of info, I head over to the case of prearranged bouquets and glance around. No sense in turning down free flowers is there?