Chapter Thirty-One
Layla
Tyler has come over my house for the last three days. It’s confusing too. He hasn’t tried to kiss me again. I don’t know why, but when he looks at me my heart stutters. When his minty breath wafts in my direction I hold my breath. Why?
Logically speaking I shouldn’t want or feel these things for Tyler. He says crazy crap that drives me nuts and he annoys the hell out of me. Then he touches me and my skin is ablaze. My thoughts fizzle out and all I can wish is that he won’t stop touching me.
But I’ll get text messages from R and my heart will start up in a frenzy. Butterflies swarm my stomach and my skin gets tingly. It’s crazy. How can two people, one I don’t really know and the other I usually generally despise, cause these feelings?
Juliet storms into my room and finds me staring at myself in the mirror. “What can I do for you this early in the morning?” I ask.
“What did you get me involved in?” she practically screams at me as she thrusts her phone into my face.
“I can’t … ” I’m about to say, “read this,” but one glance at her and I know that’s not the right thing to say at this moment.
She scowls at me. “Why am I getting text messages from this person telling me to watch myself because of you?”
I frown. “Don’t worry I’ll handle it.”
“Will you? Because to me it doesn’t look like you’ve been handling anything lately. Your boyfriend cheated on you with who knows how many girls. Now he stalks you, possibly going to throw a whole parade in your name. Your best friend probably screwed your ex. And you’ve been hanging out with the one person you loathe most in the world. My goodness, maybe you are right, and you’re actually handling things,” she finishes with an eye roll.
“I told you … ”
She throws her hands up. “Stop! Just stop it right now. I’m happy, Layla. I’m not the loser twin anymore. People see me walking with Mark and they actually say hi to me. I don’t know what you did to piss off whoever this might be, but I need you to handle it.”
“I’m going to make sure nothing happens to you. It’s just some crazy girl on the cheerleading squad. She’s trying to get me kicked off. She’s a popularity seeker. That’s all. She probably thought if she went out for cheer she would automatically become the most popular girl. Who knows. What I do know is this: those types of people will do anything to get what they want.”
She folds her arms. “So basically, this is somehow your fault. Great. Just fantastic! I’m not you, Layla. We may look exactly alike but I’m the nerdy one. I don’t want people to look at me like I’m the genetic freak of the family anymore.” Tears slip down my sister’s face and my heart clenches.
“I’m sorry. Juliet, I’m truly sorry. I’ll fix this. I got your back.”
She swipes her tears and sniffles. “Whatever.” I watch her flee my room and I crumble against my vanity. One eyelid is perfectly done with makeup. The other is bare. I stare at myself a little longer then I reach for the makeup-remover wipes.
I take a soft, moist towel and rub it across my eyelid. Once all the purple and pink shadow stains the wet cloth, I toss it in the trash, and leave my room.
I had forgotten how awful the bus is. I didn’t want to ask Juliet for a ride considering how much my mess is now screwing with her life. Plus, this shit with Selena made her cry and that’s not acceptable.
Some freshman with terrible acne, sweating so profusely I’m not positive if his hair is wet from a shower or greasy from lack of bathing, is currently breathing in my direction. I cringe a smile and look down at my lap.
“You’re pretty. Are you new?” He sniffles deeply, like he’s inhaling me. Gross.
I feel my eyes bug out. “I’m not new.”
“I know everyone. I never seen you before.”
I nod. I’m not about to take the bait.
He switches seats and sits across from me. “So. I’m Joe. I can show you around the school.” He giggles his raspy squeak.
“Look, I’m sure you’re sweet and all, but I really do know where I’m going.”
“I know you do, Juliet. I was just so excited to see you on the bus. I like you a lot.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. He thinks I’m Juliet? Oh, goodness. This bus ride literally can’t get much worse, can it?
“I’m not Juliet,” I whisper back.
“Right, you’re the other one. I get it. You could have just said no thanks. No need to make up lies.”
“I’m not making up anything.” I pull out my student ID and he snorts.
“You could be returning that to your sister. It’s fine. No need to try to make me feel better. I knew I had no chance in hell.”
There is no arguing with crazy. The outcome is always terrible. I shift toward the window and squeeze my eyes shut.
When we pull into school I hop off the bus so fast you would have thought the thing was on fire. I nearly collide with Rachel right as I take off down the walkway. She smiles at me. “Hey.”
I don’t say anything back to her. This is the longest I’ve gone without speaking to her. Sadly, it hurts. The words swimming inside me are bursting to come out but I swallow them. I’m not ready. I start to pull away and she cries out, “Come on, Layla! I said I was sorry! What more do you want me to do?”
I keep walking away. I know she’s sorry. It was a mistake. I get it. But I also firmly believe she’s capable of restraint, no matter how drunk. I need more time.
In my distress, I accidently shoulder another person while entering the school. I mumble, “I’m sorry.”
“Wow. That’s got to be a first. Hold on, let me pull out my recorder. Can you say that again?” Tyler jokes with a grin.
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Nice look. Run out of makeup?” he jokes.
“No.”
“Wow. One-word answers now. What’s going on? I thought we were moving past hating me,” he says.
I can’t help myself; I smile at his stupid comment. “Maybe. Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”
Tyler escorts me to my locker. “I’m not going to give up just like that. Tell me.”
I raise a brow. “All right, mister nosey pants. Some chick is trying to ruin my sister because she’s got it in her head I’m in the way of her becoming super popular. Oh and P.S., the same girl wants you too.”
He burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. What?”
“You heard me the first time.”
“It’s just so utterly stupid I wasn’t sure if you were pulling my leg or being serious. Who’s the girl?”
“I am serious. And why should I tell you her name? Don’t you want the extra fan mail?” I reach my locker and start twisting in my combination. It pops open and I glance over at Tyler.
“I really don’t need any extra fan mail.” He nudges me. “Come on, give me some kind of hint. What sort of stalker is in my near future? Please don’t tell me she’s a grade-A, five-star clinger.”
I snort at the thought of Selena being labeled a five-star clinger. “Sophomore.”
“What? That’s all you’re giving me? Come on, Princess, that’s barely shit to go off. A hint is more like her name starts with an F.”
“Her name doesn’t start with an F. Unless you want to label her something like F-buddy.”
He grins. “Are you jealous?”
“Please! I can’t get rid of you fast enough,” I tease. Although, the thought of him wanting Selena makes me disgusted. Why do I even care? This is Tyler Richardson we’re talking about. He doesn’t like me like that. I don’t like him like that. I mean, I think I don’t. My body is throwing me off, giving me feelings that I should have for someone nice, and sweet.
I need to derail this subject. “Aren’t you going to your locker?”
“In a minute. Trying to get rid of me so quickly?”
I shake my head. “I just thought you needed your books. Your hands are pretty empty and that backpack looks really light.”
“It is.” He leans against the lockers and smiles. “I notice you took the bus today. Juliet not giving you rides now?”
“It’s not that. It was … my choice.”
I notice the sprinkling of scruff along his jaw. I wonder what it would be like to kiss it. I shake my head quickly. Why do I keep having these silly thoughts about what it would be like to kiss Tyler?
He stares at me and I blink. “What?”
“I was saying right, like you chose not to wear makeup today.”
“I said that … ” He presses his finger to my lips and I close my mouth.
“As I was saying. It’s fine be what you want and all that jazz, but if you want I can come by and get you.”
“That’s silly. Aren’t I way out of your way?”
“You’re closer than you think,” he says, and my heart slams into my chest. I quickly turn away as I feel my cheeks burning.
After exchanging books from my locker, I take off down the hall without responding. He probably thinks I’m cuckoo-bird crazy or reverting to my old self, which involves ignoring him as much as humanly possible. I’m not ignoring him. But I might be a little crazy, because my body and mind are not reacting how they should. Not at all.
I slip into my first-period class and busy myself. There are already plenty of seats filled and people talking amongst themselves. So, when he finally strolls by my room, I immediately turn to the girl next to me, Erin, and start laughing as if whatever she said was the funniest thing ever.
Apparently, this was a terrible idea on my part because Erin just glares at me with watery eyes and sobs, “Why do you think my brother being shipped off overseas is funny?”
“What? No. I was laughing at something else.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
Her friend Nancy shakes her head. “You’re such a bitch, Layla.”
I face the front of the room and glance down at my desk. Way to go.
Ms. Prez strolls into the room and announces, “Class, be seated and quiet down. We’ve got a lot to cover today in History.”
I flip open my notebook and click my pen. Before the tardy bell rings, Adam taps on the door. One of his eyes is swelled up and bruised. A gasp escapes me as I take him all in. Who in the hell beat him up and why do I even care?
He hands Ms. Prez a note. His eyes scan the room. As soon as his good eye lands on me it narrows and his jaw clenches. I swear I can hear his teeth grinding from three rows back. “Well, Adam, here is the rest of the work for this week.”
Ms. Prez hands him a stack of papers and he grins at her. “Thanks, teach.”
He glances my way one last time and my body freezes. It isn’t until he finally exits the room that my body starts to unwind and the knot in my stomach uncoils.
Ms. Prez rambles on about something and I barely catch on to what exactly it is until she says, “What are your thoughts on this Layla?”
Crap! “Thoughts on what?”
“Exactly. Please try to pay attention. I don’t stand up here just to hear myself talk. Learning this information is important, class, it will be on the test tomorrow.”
Everyone snickers. I get that I’m not exactly listening to her excessive babbling but did she really have to call me out on it? What about Zack in the far corner of the room? He’s sleeping, for goodness sakes.