Discovered (2 page)

The summer before eleventh grade, Cheryl had
broken the news that James wanted to move to North Carolina and wished for her
and Layla to move with him.

Layla couldn’t understand why and was furious
that her mother had agreed, at first, but the more she thought about it, the
more it made sense. Her best and only real friend, Joanna, had moved to
California six months before, leaving Layla at loose ends. She really had no
other close friends. Perhaps, she thought at the time, a change would be beneficial.
She did have a few casual friends, but none really worth sticking around for.

The decision became even more appealing when
Cheryl informed her that they would be moving to the same town that Layla’s
elementary school friend, Julie, had moved to right before high school. After
Layla had emailed Julie to inform her of the upcoming move, the decision was
set.

So the year before, Cheryl sold their apartment
in Queens and moved in with James. One of the bribes that James had initially
used was his promise to buy Layla a car, which he was still to make good on.
Most teens in New York City didn’t own cars; not because their parents couldn’t
afford them, but for lack of necessity, more than anything.

Layla was barely a week in North Carolina when
she and Julie fell back into their old, comfortable friendship.

“So what do you think?” Kevin asked.

Layla widened her eyes, realizing that she had
blanked him completely. “Sorry, I was just trying to remember if I finished my
calculus homework,” she lied.

“I said, why don’t you take me with you?” he
enunciated annoyingly. “We could tell your aunt that I’m your boyfriend.”

Layla smiled falsely. “Yeah, but my mom would
never go for that.”

Thankfully, the bell rang at that moment.
“Later,” she said, jumping up quickly before Kevin had a chance to make any
more ridiculous proposals. She headed straight for her science class, trying desperately
to erase the vision of Jay Logan from her mind.

She sat in her physics class, barely listening
to Ms. Sweeney talk about electrons. “Noels Bohr determined that an electron
shell, which contains lots of different orbits of diverse electrons, encircles the
protons in an atom’s nucleus. Can anyone explain what occurs between these
orbits that allow a spectroscopist
to know what types of chemical
elements make up the stars?”

Layla was still having a hard time paying
attention to anything. On more than one occasion, she scolded herself inwardly
for obsessing constantly on the following night, even going so far as to be
uncharacteristically pre-occupied with what she would wear and how she would do
her hair, both fixations that she usually found boring and trivial. By the end
of the class, she had no clue who had answered Ms. Sweeney’s question, or what
the correct answer had been.

When the final bell of the day rang, Layla
pulled her backpack over her shoulder and marched out of her class en route to
the dreaded yellow bus. She stopped short suddenly, noticing Jay leaning
against the far wall. “Hey,” he said smiling. “I thought I’d rescue you from
school transportation hell.”

“What?” she asked, slightly dumbfounded.

“I thought I’d give you a ride home,” he
reiterated. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I didn’t.”

“No, yes…I mean, yes, thank you,” she
stammered.

“You’d prefer the school bus?” he asked
skeptically.

“No, no…I meant thank you for the offer, that’s
really nice of you.”

He reached over and maneuvered her bag off her
shoulder, throwing it over his own. “So how were the rest of your classes,” he
asked casually as they walked out the door toward the parking lot.

There was nothing but awkward, embarrassing
small-talk the whole way to his car.

He finally stopped in front of a sleek, black Range
Rover and unlocked the doors with his remote keychain.

Layla climbed in and put her seatbelt on while
Jay opened the backdoor and flung the backpacks on the empty seat.

As he climbed in and started the car, Layla got
a whiff of his heavenly scent that she had spent way too many hours dreaming
about lately.

Jay hit the radio and pulled slowly out of the
parking lot. A soulful, electric guitar riff oozed from the speakers. “Led
Zeppelin,” Layla said softly.

“You know Led Zeppelin?” Jay asked, smiling
sideways at her. “I’m surprised. Most kids our age don’t seem to be the classic
rock type anymore.”

“My mother’s boyfriend loves them,” she said,
suddenly feeling a little more at ease for the conversation starter.

“Let me guess,” Jay said, “he’s in his
mid-fifties.”

Layla let out a chuckle. “I wish,” she replied.
“Would you believe that my mom’s boyfriend is only thirty-two?”

“Get out!” Jay answered. “How old is your
mother?”

“Mom was eighteen when she had me, and James is
four years younger than her.”

“Wow,” Jay said, shaking his head.

“To make matters worse, he looks about
twenty-five,” Layla added. “I went with him to pick out mom’s Christmas present
last year, a gold necklace, and everyone in the jewelers congratulated me on my
generous boyfriend. It was really embarrassing.”

“Did they start dating when you moved here last
year?” Jay questioned.

Layla was taken aback by the question. This was
her first conversation with Jay, so she’d never mentioned that she’d only moved
the year before. She felt a little giddy at the prospect that he may have asked
some of the other kids in school about her. Or perhaps he’d just overheard a
conversation. Yeah, that was probably it. “We live with James,” she explained.
“It was his idea to move here last year, so we came with him.”

“And your father?” Jay asked. “Sorry if I’m
being too forward,” he added.

“My father was in a helicopter accident in
Afghanistan over four years ago,” Layla said sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Jay said again. “I’m really sorry
for your loss.”

“Well, the worst part was, they didn’t even
find his body. The four other people with him were burnt up pretty badly, but
judging by the dental records, Dad was not one of them.” She shook her
shoulders and stared out the window momentarily, trying to squelch the pain in
her belly. Her hand instinctively went to her necklace, the last gift her
father had given her. He pulled her aside before leaving for the airport that morning
and presented her with a silver, square charm with an unusual design consisting
of a sideways eight surrounded by three circles, hanging on a thin silver
chain. “This is the key to my soul,” he said, tying the silver chain around her
neck. Layla never took it off. She felt it connected her to her father, wherever
he was.

“Your father was a hero,” Jay said awkwardly.

Layla laughed once. “My dad wasn’t in the
services. He was there as a private contractor. He and James were partners
actually, and they had some sort of business opportunity there.”

“What did he do?” Jay asked.

“He and James owned a small pharmaceutical
company together, which James still operates. But what my dad was doing in
Afghanistan, I couldn’t tell you. He never did explain it all that well. Even
mom is not quite sure what the job entailed. The funny thing is, now that James
is sole owner, he’s never mentioned it again, which is strange, now that I
think about it.” She turned to look at Jay. He was staring straight ahead with
a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

He looked sideways quickly. “What’s your mother’s
boyfriend’s name?” he asked.

“James…James Morganson,” Layla answered.

Jay coughed suddenly. He banged his right fist
on his chest briefly and then leaned over to fiddle with the volume of the
radio.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Fine,” he replied, turning quickly to smile at
her. “I suffer from fall allergies.”

“Oh,” she answered.

The conversation seemed to stop in its tracks,
an awkwardness settling over both of them.

“Listen, Layla,” Jay said, breaking the uncomfortable
silence. “I know I said I’d come to your house tomorrow night, but I was just
thinking…”

Layla’s heart sank. He was about to back out of
their plans. She should have known it was too good to be true.

“My parents are out of town for a while,” he
continued, “so maybe we could do it at my house instead. We would have the
whole place to ourselves…” he trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose
with his free hand. “I’m so sorry, that didn’t come out right. I’m not going to
try anything funny with you…ugh…” He shook his head at his own pathetic
stammering.

Despite the fact that Layla didn’t know if she
should be offended by his obvious lack of attraction to her, she giggled. “No,
it’s alright. You really don’t seem like the brutish type.”

“Sorry,” he said again. “Truth be told, I
really don’t do well with parents.”

“That’s fine,” she replied. “I’ll have my
mother drop me off.”

“No, no, I’ll pick you up outside your house at
seven,” he said quickly.

They pulled up in front of her driveway. As
Layla undid her seatbelt, Jay jumped from the car and sped around to open the
door for her. Layla was somewhat shocked by the gentlemanly and old-fashioned
gesture. Great; just what she needed: another reason to pine for the mysterious
Jay Logan.

Layla ate dinner that night in nostalgic
reflection, her previous excitement from earlier in the day buried under
thoughts of her father. She wondered what had happened to him, and wallowed in
self-pity that he had been taken from her so young. She went straight to her
bedroom after eating, not bothering to offer to clean up the dishes as she
usually did. In a melancholy mood, she reached into her wardrobe and grabbed
the old shoe box off the top shelf and sat it on the bed. Sitting down next to
it, she pulled off the lid and rummaged through it for the last picture she and
her dad had posed for together.

Flushing Meadow Park was a place that Layla’s
mom and dad had taken her to on many occasions when she was a child. She loved
the 1964 World’s Fair Unisphere—the borough of Queens’ most iconic
structure—that she and her dad had stood in front of every year of her
childhood to have a picture taken.

She loved checking her growth progression by
lining the pictures up in age order and looking over them one at a time. The
last one was taken when she was thirteen, their final trip to that park
together. It was three days before he left for Afghanistan.

Layla swallowed a sob as she gazed at her
handsome father crouching down beside her, his arm firmly around her shoulders.

William Sparks had been blessed with fabulous
genes. He was one of those lucky people that never seemed to age from one year
to the next, as though he had an aging portrait tucked away in his attic—Dorian
Gray style.

As she looked at the picture, she reflected on
how much her life had changed since that day. She was no longer a child, she
lived in a new home in an entirely different state, and she had a new
father-figure…well, sort of. She wondered what her life would be like now if
the helicopter her father had been riding in had not crashed. Shaking her head
to dispel the thought, she realized that it was pointless. Who knew why things
happened the way they did? Acceptance was the only sane approach to life, that,
or drive yourself mad with unanswerable ifs, what’s and buts.

Sighing deeply, she scooped all the pictures up
and placed them back in the shoe box. She stretched out on her bed for a
moment, but before she could stop herself, she drifted off into a peaceful
sleep.

“Oh my God!” Julie blurted out. “So he actually
gave you a ride home?”

“Yep,” Layla said. She looked out of the car
window and wondered how she should act when she saw Jay in English class later
that morning. Thankfully, on Friday, English was third period, so she wouldn’t
have to endure his gorgeous smirk at her being late again. Was that a good
thing or bad?

“Tell me every little detail,” Julie insisted.
“I was almost convinced that he couldn’t even speak. I’ve never seen him
interact with anyone.”

“He’s actually really nice,” Layla said, trying
to smother the pathetic grin on her face. “He even got out of the car to open
the door for me.”

“Wow, that’s like so 1950’s or something,” Julie
said in a dreamy voice. “What are you going to wear to his house tonight?”

“Nothing too obvious,” Layla replied. “Just
jeans and a tee.” She answered as though she had given it almost no thought. If
only Julie knew the truth.

“Girl, you have a chance to snag the gorgeous
Jay Logan. For heaven’s sake, make an effort,” Julie scolded.

“No, I don’t,” Layla argued. “We’re working on
an English project. It’s not like he voluntarily asked me out.”

“Still, maybe if you played your cards right…”

Layla refused to entertain the conversation any
further. What was the point in getting her hopes up?

She said goodbye to Julie when they reached the
front door and headed off alone to science. Thankfully, Ms. Sweeney was a very
sweet woman who seemed to like Layla and politely ignored Layla’s tardy
entrance.

Layla pulled out her notebook as quietly as she
could, feeling as though she had interrupted the class enough for one morning.
It seemed that she’d barely taken the book out when it was time to put it back
in again and head for Calculus.

Kevin Hartley suddenly appeared next to her.
“Hey, Layla,” he said.  “I was thinking that I’d like to take you out tonight.”

‘Wow,’
Layla thought.
‘Would it kill
you to try to consider what someone else was thinking or what they would like?’
Obviously Hartley was the very center of the universe, at least in his own
mind.

“Sorry,” she replied. “I have plans already,
but thanks for the offer.” She buried a smug smirk at having a bona fide excuse
to blow off the conceited windbag.

“This just might be your last chance to go out
with me,” he said, cocking his eyebrows as though that would make her change
her mind.

“Sorry, Kevin, but I’m certain there are a
number of girls who would love to go out with you tonight. I’m sure you won’t
be too lonely.”

“Yes, that’s true, but I had my heart set on
seeing you later.”

“Sorry,” she said again, shrugging her
shoulders.

As is usually the case, the more you say
no
to a guy like Hartley, the more determined they become to win you over. Layla
had to endure a whole hour of calculus with Hartley sitting next to her, making
asinine jokes that only an immature, egotistical idiot would find amusing. Still,
there was no point in being rude. He had a lot of friends, after all, and was
one of the so-called popular kids. There was no need to get on his bad side.
She smiled politely and tried to pay attention to the teacher while pretending
to be amused by every word Hartley spewed.

Thankfully, the class finally came to an end.
Just when Layla was sure she’d be shot of Hartley for a while, he decided to escort
her to her next class uninvited. And the hits just kept on coming. Layla
wondered how anyone could tolerate being in his presence for any length of time,
yet many girls seemed to love him. Go figure!

She walked toward her English class, smiling
falsely at Kevin and nodding, wishing to all that was holy that he’d just leave
her alone and go work his charm on his already bloated fan club.

As they reached the door, she noticed Jay
leaning up against the wall outside their classroom, smirking in her direction.

“Whazzup, Logan?” Kevin said, nodding toward
Jay.

“Hartley,” Jay responded with an imitative nod.

“So, Layla, I’ll call you over the weekend?”
Kevin said with overwhelming confidence.

“See you later,” she replied. She turned around
and walked into the classroom, choosing a seat at the back of the class.

Jay slid into the seat next to her. He turned
around to face her, biting the inside of his cheek as though deeply amused.
“Your boyfriend?” he asked.

“What?” Layla questioned, completely baffled by
the remark.

“Is Hartley your boyfriend?” he said,
enunciating each word.

“Oh…hell no!” she blurted out. She shook her
head, realizing how cruel that sounded. “I mean, he’s an alright guy, but not
my type at all.”

“You might want to spell that out for him,” Jay
said, still smirking.

“I think he’s too puffed up on himself to get
the message,” she said, smiling back.

They both laughed, and their eyes connected
briefly. Layla turned away quickly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

She spent the remainder of the class glued to
every word that Mr. Schultz said, yet fully aware of the immense presence of
Jay Logan sitting so close to her. How on earth was she ever going to handle being
completely alone with him later that evening?

When the bell finally rang, Layla stood up
quickly and turned to say good-bye to Jay. She intended to make some remark
about seeing him later that night, but Jay was looking back at her as though he
wanted to say something. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“I was wondering if you need a ride home
today,” he said.

Julie suddenly appeared next to her. “I got
it,” she said. “Oh, unless you…y’know,” she stammered, waving her hand back and
forth awkwardly between Layla and Jay.

“No, that’s alright,” Layla said quickly. “Jay,
I’ll see you at seven, right?”

“I’ll be there,” he said, smiling warmly.

Later that day, Layla walked down the stairs and
to the main doors, feeling that all too familiar relief of hearing the final
Friday bell, but with the added buzz of anticipation over seeing Jay later that
evening.

She caught up with Julie in the parking lot.

“So are you psyched about tonight?” Julie
asked.

“Lower your voice,” Layla scolded, looking
around quickly to make sure no one overheard them. “Psyched about what?” she
questioned. “To do an English report?” She climbed into the passenger side of
Julie’s car and threw on the seatbelt.

Julie started the car and turned to face her
friend. “Girl, he is into you.”

“Who?” Layla questioned.

Julie rolled her eyes impatiently. “Jay,” she
replied. “Who else would I be talking about?”

“No, he isn’t,” Layla argued, but the
suggestion made her smile despite herself.

“Oh, come on!” Julie blurted out. “Are you
really that blind? Did you not notice the way he was looking at you after
English class? Oh, my God, what will you do if he tries to kiss you tonight?”

“Would you stop it?” Layla scolded. “He’s just
being nice to me to make things more pleasant since we have to spend time
together.”

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Julie said
with a sigh, “but just be prepared. And don’t say I didn’t warn you; he is
going to try to lock lips with you before the night is over.”

Layla felt her heart flutter a little, but then
her more rational side took control. There was simply no point in getting her
hopes up. Even if Jay Logan was attracted to her, the guy was so aloof and
detached. He seemed the type that was just too cool to ever truly open up to
anyone, and Layla was not really interested in getting her hopes up only to
have her heart broken.

As soon as Julie pulled into her driveway,
Layla bolted out the door, telling Julie she’d call her later with details.

She walked straight for the kitchen, throwing
her school bag on the usual dining room chair as she passed. “Hi, sweetheart,”
her mother called out as Layla pulled a diet soda from the fridge.

“Hi, Mom,” Layla answered, walking over to
place a kiss on her mother’s cheek.

 “How was school today?” Cheryl questioned.

“Good. Listen, I’m going out tonight,” Layla
explained. “I have to meet a classmate to work on an English project.”

“Will you be having dinner here?” her mother
asked.

“If it’s ready before six,” Layla replied.
“He’s picking me up at seven.”

“He?” her mother echoed.

“We’re just working on a project. Honestly, Mom.”

“Is he cute?” Cheryl pushed.

“Very,” Layla said, smirking, “but it’s really
not like that.”

“Fine,” her mother said, holding up her hands.
“Don’t tell me.”

“There’s really nothing to tell,” Layla
responded. “I wish there was, but it’s honestly just a school project.”

After an early dinner with her mom, Layla ran
upstairs to change. She chose a pair of faded jeans, complete with stylish
holes in the knees and thighs, and a long-sleeved, yellow T-shirt. She applied
a tiny bit of mascara and rubbed a dab of lip-gloss across her lips.

“You look really cute,” Cheryl said, eyeing her
daughter suspiciously. “Just a boy, huh?”

Layla laughed. “It’s just a tiny bit of
makeup,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever,” Cheryl replied. “Be home by
eleven.”

 “Got it,” Layla said, nodding once. She
hurried out the door to see Jay’s car parked at the curb at the foot of their
garden. He was standing outside, leaning up against the passenger door facing away
from her house; his arms folded casually across his chest.

“Hi,” she called out as she hurried down the
driveway.

He turned to face her, a smile spreading across
his face. “Hi, Layla,” he said, opening the passenger-side door for her.

“Thank you so much,” Layla said sincerely.

She climbed in and noted an otherworldly,
almost heartbreaking whirr of a bluesy electric guitar—the kind of sound that
touches deep in your soul and makes you want to cry for no known reason. She
turned to Jay questioningly.

“I thought I’d put on a little Led Zeppelin for
you. It’s called
Tea For One
from the
Presence
CD, which is
probably their least famous.”

“It’s so sad or something…” Layla said
reflectively. “Can an instrument really sound sad?”

“If it’s played right, I suppose,” Jay said,
narrowing his eyes as he gazed at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she
asked, smiling, yet she could feel her face heating up.

“It’s moving, but a lot of people don’t get
it,” he said, smiling back at her. “You feel like it’s touching you on the
inside, right?”

“That’s exactly how it feels,” she replied
quietly.

He continued to gaze at her with a strange
expression for a brief moment, then he looked straight ahead and started the
car.

After less than ten minutes driving, Jay pulled
up in front of a beautiful, white, southern-style house complete with
wrap-around porch adorned with a large, white, wooden swing.

He fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked
the door, ushering Layla in before him. “Can I get you something to drink?” he
asked.

Oh boy, this was awkward.

“Sure,” Layla replied.

“Coke?” Jay questioned.

“Diet?” Layla responded.

“Sure thing,” he said, chuckling.

Layla walked into a living room that was decked
out with a sixty-five inch flat-screen TV, and a caramel colored leather couch
and love seat. There were many strange foreign looking ornaments around the
room, but they blended perfectly into the décor, giving the room an
ultra-modern flare. “This is lovely,” she said, not bothering to hide how
impressed she was.

“Thank you,” he replied, handing her a can and
a glass of ice. “So do you have any ideas?” he asked.

“Pardon me?” she said, confused.

“In regards to our project,” Jay answered.

Layla laughed, realizing that she had forgotten
her main reason for being there. “How about
Dante’s Inferno
?”

Jay scrunched up his face, gesturing for her to
have a seat on the couch. He sat down next to her. “
The Divine Comedy
,”
he said, looking none too thrilled. “Written in the early thirteen hundreds and
printed in 1555 by Gabriele Giolito d’ Ferrari,”
he added with
obvious distaste. “I hated it when it was first…when I was first introduced to
it.”

“Oh,” Layla huffed. “What did
you
have in mind?”

“How about
Harry Potter and
the Deathly Hallows
?” he answered bluntly.

Layla laughed. “Be serious,” she
scolded.

“Oh, believe me, I was,” Jay
said, smirking at her.

“While I don’t doubt that fifty years from now
that will be considered a classic, I don’t think it is at the moment.”

“Then we’ll be avant-garde,” he answered, cocking
his eyebrows playfully.

Layla swallowed hard. Good heavens, he was
gorgeous.

“I think Schultz wants a specific kind of
classic, y’know?” she answered. “Besides, I love Dante.”

“Over-rated,” Jay bit back. “Most of the
so-called classics are.” He laughed at Layla’s horrified look and held up his
hands. “Or maybe I’m just jaded by them,” he amended. “Maybe I’ve just read
them all too often.”

“How often have you read them…?”

The conversation went from books, to hobbies,
to former homes and experiences. Before Layla could even begin to register that
time had slipped by, she and Jay had spent three hours in deep conversation.

Like her, Jay had recently moved there from up
north, Danbury Connecticut to be exact. He explained that his first home had
been Miami, Florida, but that he had moved around a little due to his father’s
work, which had something to do with computers. Like her, he was an only child.
And like her, he kept only a small circle of very close friends.