Chapter Twelve
Layla
Rachel drags me to Starbucks. Most of the time, I want coffee, but at this very moment, I don’t want a drop. I want to smack my friend. My chest feels as if an entire house is sitting on it. Getting a boyfriend before Christmas is just plain stupid.
“Yeah, I want a venti white chocolate mocha frap,” I hear Rachel say to some cute barista working the counter.
Her hand slaps my arm. “Hey. What do you want?” she asks. “My treat.”
“I don’t want anything.”
She rolls her eyes and shifts her attention back to the guy with blond hair. “And she’ll have a venti vanilla bean crème frap with caramel drizzle. Name on it is Layla.”
After she pays, we move to the other side of the counter, and I say, “I told you I didn’t want anything.”
“You say it now, but you’ll thank me in a minute. Now, what’s with this whole glum look. Are you still freaking about getting Tyler a gift? Because there is the whole a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach or down his pants,” she winks at me. If I wasn’t so tapped out, I’d laugh at her perverted mind.
“Okay. Seriously. You’re starting to bum me out. What’s going on?”
“Order for ‘You’re so hot’,” a guy calls out as his ears turn pink.
“Really?” I ask.
She shrugs. “What? It’s funny.” She steps up and smiles at the boy. “That’s me. And thank you for the compliment, you’re not so bad yourself.”
The guy looks like he wished his shift ended right that second. “Order for Layla,” he says next.
I grab my drink and follow Rachel as she giggles and walks over to a table. As soon as we’re both sitting, she takes a sip of her drink.
“What?” I ask as she stares me down.
“You’re mad at me for going off to flirt with those guys earlier. I get it. But this is way more serious than that. When I found you with Tyler, were you two fighting?”
I glance down at the table. “I don’t know. I think we’re fighting. I think we might even be breaking up. Rachel, his sister basically asked me if I was using him.”
Rachel laughs which causes me to look at her. “Did you tell her ‘hell yeah, for some hot bedroom action’ because that would be classic.”
“I’m serious! She made me feel like total dirt.”
“Hold up! First.” She takes another sip of her drink and I do the same. “You aren’t a user. You’re sassy, sweet, and you always tell people the truth even if it’s hard to take. Even to me, which is why I love you. But if this whole meeting the ‘rents and all that jazz is stressing you out, then just be honest with Tyler. Tell him you aren’t ready for this crap and be done with it. Maybe set up another day where you two exchange gifts or something.”
I sigh. “He keeps telling me it’s okay to not come. It’s like he’s ashamed of me or something.”
“Or he knows you really well and thinks this is too much for you. He’s letting you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to go cozy up to his fam yet.” She smiles. “For now, I think you should tell him you aren’t up for it. Then if you are, show up at his house. It’s not like you don’t know where he lives.”
That is very true. “Okay. I still need to find a dress. In case I decide to go.”
She nods. “Drink up then. We’ll get that gift and that dress before the end of the day.”
I found a simple white dress with a black sash around it and some strappy shoes. I also went back to the Pans-And-More store and bought all the items I was going to get Tyler and Juliet. My Christmas shopping is almost complete.
Rachel pulls into my drive and says, “I’d love to stay but my ‘rents are being weird again. Family dinner. Some big news they need to share.”
“Good luck,” I say.
“Yeah. That and a whole lot of stashed rum.” She laughs as I grab my packages and make my way to the front door.
I fumble a bit with the knob but eventually manage. I hear a low honk, and turn to see her peel out of the drive. “I’m home,” I shout as I enter the front door.
“She’s not here,” my sister yells back.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask as I notice my sister sitting on the couch in two-day-old clothes, flipping through the channels on TV. Her hair was sticking up in every possible direction, almost like she’d rubbed glue in it or something.
“Mom had a meeting with a client. A strange client. I told her to take some mace.” She scowls at me. “I’m still ticked at you.”
“What do you mean ‘strange?’ Wait, why is she meeting them?” I’m so confused. “Anyway, I said I’m sorry.” I wave the bags around in my hands. “But I got you awesome gifts to totes make up for it.”
Juliet turns to the TV, clicks if off, and glares at me. “Gifts aren’t going to make it better.”
“I know. So why didn’t Mom meet them here like she always does?”
“This is why I said the dude was strange. Apparently, he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s doing this. Not like Mom advertises all her success around town or anything.”
I snort. Mom doesn’t tell anyone who her clients are. Our neighbors, on the other hand, seem to keep tabs on who comes in and out of this house. “Whatever. I’m going to go wrap some gifts,” I say.
“Great. I’ll probably be in the kitchen doing forced labor.”
I don’t even want to ask what she meant by that. Probably one of Mom’s ideas to get Juliet out of her room. She probably threatened to take all her gaming systems away.
I go up to my room and place all the bags on my bed.
I need wrapping paper, tape, and scissors. So, I head down to the garage and grab a plastic tote down from the shelf, full of the essentials needed for wrapping gifts. Back in my room, I flip on some tunes and start to make my gifts look pretty.
I make my way into the kitchen. My sister gathers various things from the pantry.
“Oh, hey. Watcha doing?” I ask.
She scowls at me. “I am on dinner duty since it’s the only thing Mom can think of to get me to leave my room. Any special requests? And I just want to note, I’m still mad at you. So, nothing elaborate.”
I frown. I had my heart set on her chicken alfredo from scratch too. “I’m sorry. I’ll say it a million times if you want.”
Juliet shakes her head. “That’s okay. I know it was an accident. You still shouldn’t have went through my phone.”
“I know. I hate seeing you like this though. All shut in. It’s all his fault.”
She makes her way to the stove and sets aside an armful of items. “Will you get off my case if I leave the house?”
I smirk. “Maybe. But you should at least brush your hair.”
She glances over at me as I hoist myself up on the counter on the other side of the stove. “Can I help?”
She slides a look in my direction. “I’d love it if you would get your butt off the counter. I have to work here. Go over to the kitchen table and clear it off. Then come back here and fill this pot with water. Not all the way. Erm, about little over half.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
I jump down and make my way over to the kitchen table. Right as I’m about to move one of my mom’s floral centerpieces from the table, the doorbell chimes.
Juliet says, “You’re going to have to get that.”
I shrug and head to the door. I open it then snap, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Juliet, please, baby, I need to talk to you,” Mark begs, looking pitiful. Ugh. The fact he can’t tell us apart irks me.
“Bite me, asshat!” I slam the door in his face.
Pounding on our door ensues. “Who is it? One of those crazy salesmen?” my sister asks as she dumps ingredients into the mixing bowl.
“Crazy? Yes. Salesperson? No.” I don’t know how to tell her.
Juliet looks at me, confused.
“Uh … That was Mark.” I chew on my lower lip.
She wipes her forehead, then her cheek, and a dusting of flour coats her face. “What?”
“It was Mark. Is Mark. That’s him banging on the door right now like a lunatic. For the love of it, will he just go away?”
Juliet points at me. “This is because you sent those texts to everyone.”
She’s right. Mark has no idea it was me and not Juliet who sent those texts. Still, he’s got a lot of nerve showing up at our door. I should chase him off our lawn with a baseball bat. I’m sure mom keeps one in the closet for protection purposes.
“I know,” I say to Juliet. “I’ll get rid of him.”
She groans. “Ugh. I can’t concentrate with all that stupid banging.”
I dig out my phone from my back pocket and call Tyler.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?”
I cringe as the pounding gets louder. I think the neighbors might call the cops and that will just embarrass Juliet even more. Especially if Mr. Stupid tells him he’s only here to get some answers on why my sister would send everyone a slew of humiliating texts that were from him.
“Mark is here trying to break down our door. Can you please come over?”
“On it. I actually passed the entrance to your neighborhood just now. I’ll turn around and be there in no time flat. Where’s your mom? Did you call anyone else?”
“Thank you. She’s out with a client. No, I only called you. Juliet has been humiliated enough I don’t need the neighborhood cops involved.” I sigh.
There is a pregnant pause. “I’m sorry about earlier,” I whisper.
“We can talk about that as soon as I get there. I just pulled into your addition. I’m about five streets from your house.”
“Okay.” We hang up and I walk over to my sister. She’s growling as she mashes up some meat.
I take the big silver pot resting on the stove over to the sink and fill it with water. Mark’s banging rests and I sigh with relief. Maybe Tyler didn’t have to come over here and physically remove him. Maybe he just called and threatened him. I look away from the pot and out the window. I squeak! A hand slaps on the pane. “Juliet! Please!”
I wave at him. “Go away!”
“Who are you … That’s it. I’ve had enough. Layla, how cold is that water?” Juliet asks.
“What? I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention,” I answer.
She snatches the pot from the sink and says, “Don’t you tell a single soul about this.”
“About … oh.” I say as she motions for me to open the window. I do. Mark looks at the two of us.
“Juliet, we need to talk about this. I’m serious.”
“I hate you!” she snaps then tosses the pot of water at Mark. I yank the window closed as I erupt in laughter.
“Oh my God that was the best. Did you see his face? Ahahahaha,” I say.
Juliet frowns. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“What are you talking about? Yes, you should have. He’s an asshole who deserves more than water thrown his way.”
My sister slumps down to the floor. “You don’t get it, Layla. You never will because you’re popular, a cheerleader, and most likely to be crowned homecoming queen and prom queen. You’re the outgoing one. The one who’s always invited. Me? I’m the geeky twin. The one most of the people at our school avoid.”
“I’ve never really known you to care. Juls, I wish I could have that flippant attitude. Don’t let Mark or anyone else change that.”
She pulls herself up from the floor and huffs. “I gotta get dinner done. You have to refill the pot.”
I stick the silver pot under the sink and the doorbell chimes.
Juliet screams. “I swear if that’s him asking to talk or for a towel, I’m going to kick him in his shins.”
She doesn’t even wait for me to offer her assistance before she abandons the meat she was mashing up and leaves the kitchen. I check on the water, I still have a while until the pot is filled where it needs to be.
I let the water run as I make my way to the door. My sister snaps, “Oh what do you want?”
“Layla?” Tyler says. “The person who lives here with you. Looks like you but doesn’t wear shirts that have sarcastic phrases on them. She also doesn’t have that little birthmark … Aye. There you are. Got rid of the Mark issue.” He leans in close to my sister. “You’re welcome. Although he was looking like someone hosed him down when I arrived.”
I smirk. “That would have been Juliet. She poured a pot of water on him.”
“Awesome. Up top.” He raises his hand fully expecting my sister to slap him a high five. She turns away from us with a scowl and marches right back into the kitchen. “She’s really moody.”
“Yep. Come on in,” I say.
He remains in the entranceway not budging any farther. “Only if you promise nothing is getting dumped on my head next.”
I giggle. “I promise.”
“Good.” He closes the space between us. “I’ve been thinking …”
Oh no. This is never a good phrase. I brace myself for the blow.