Finding Laila: Some Changes are Necessary (2 page)
Read Finding Laila: Some Changes are Necessary Online
Authors: T.K. Rapp
Joey
watches as I sit in one of the three blue chairs that are lined against the
beige wall. He gives me shrug before finally closing the door and walking back
to class while I wait for Mrs. Jackson to show up.
My
parents have always encouraged me to speak my mind, to have a mind of my own.
I’m usually very good about doing that and being respectful to my elders. But I
have never talked back to a teacher like I did with Mr. Tredway. I’m not proud
of it; I know better than that.
Senior
year!
“He’s
not my boyfriend,” I mutter loud enough for the secretary to hear me.
“I’m
sorry?”
“Joey.
He’s not my boyfriend, just one of my best friends.”
She
smiles at me and nods. “I know.”
“You
know?”
“I
know a lot, and let me tell you something.” She points a finger in my direction
before dropping it and smiling at me. “I hear the things people say about you,
and you handle it well. Not many young ladies would be so classy. You and those
boys look after each other—you’re all lucky to have that.”
I
smile at her, appreciating her words.
Mrs.
Jackson walks in and cocks her head to the side when she sees that I’m the
person who has been sent to her office.
“C’mon
in,” she says as she holds her door open.
“Thank
you,” I say to the secretary as I pass.
She
gives me a nod, but doesn’t take her eyes off of her computer screen.
* * *
I
will never get used to Friday nights in Texas and what they are synonymous
with—
football
.
The
entire week leading up to game day is spent talking about
game day
. Football players strut around in their jerseys, cheerleaders
decorate players’ lockers to help spread team spirit, and it culminates with a
pep rally.
Students
are herded into the school gym, where the band plays the fight song while our
mascot, Ethon, runs around to get the crowd rowdy. It’s the same routine every
Friday; it is the end-all, be-all in high school.
I
wouldn’t be here at the football game tonight if it weren’t for number
thirty-five: Braxton Jameson, star athlete and one of my best friends.
Haden
drove Cole, Joey, and I to the football stadium so we could cheer Braxton
on—though none of us are really football fans.
Braxton
insists I wear his jersey, and it’s so big it almost swallows me up. This
request has been a source of contention for much of my high school career
because he’s never let an
actual
girlfriend wear it. He considers it a jinx if they do.
Whatever
.
“So
what happened?” Joey asks as we wait in line at the concession stand.
“I’ve
been expelled, kicked out, dismissed,” I say as I place my hand theatrically
over my forehead.
He
glowers at me, clearly not appreciating my flair for the dramatic.
I
nudge him with my shoulder and give him a smile. “Nothing. Mrs. Jackson said I
need to watch my mouth, but I get the feeling she isn’t too happy with Tredway
either.”
“Who
isn’t happy with Treadmill?” Cole Cameron asks when he steps in line next to
us. I laugh at his nickname for the obnoxious teacher, only because it’s
ridiculous.
A
cheerleader looks over at Cole and tries to get his attention. He doesn’t
notice and she stalks off in a huff. I cover my smirk with my hand. These girls
never learn.
Cole’s
blond hair has gotten darker the older he gets, but girls still flock to his
all-American looks. Blue eyes, tall and lean,
and
the star soccer player for South River high school, he’s a
catch for anyone. Well, until they get to know him like I do.
“Laila
got kicked out of his class today,” Joey informs him.
“Nice.”
Cole nods his head with a smile. “I taught her everything she knows, folks.”
“What?
How to be a dumbass?” Haden Searle asks from behind us.
Haden’s
the quiet one of the group, always dressed in dark, brooding colors and always
observing. He’s quick to speak up when he thinks someone is wrong.
“Easy
now,” Cole warns before turning back to me. “What did you get kicked out for
anyway?”
“Let’s
just say difference of opinion,” I answer dismissively.
“That’s
not what I heard,” Haden says. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Everyone,
huh?” I ask with a smirk. “Haden, we are
everyone
you talk to.”
“Just
because I don’t talk to people doesn’t mean I don’t hear things.” He looks at
the guys and raises a brow. “A lot of things.”
“Yeah,
well, what did you hear?” I challenge.
“First,
he called you a liar so you punched him the nose. Then when he tried to
physically remove you from the class, you kicked him in the junk. Then—”
“All
right, we get it,” I say, chuckling. “You know everything.”
We
step up to the concession stand and the booster club moms take our order. We
shout four different orders at one time, barely aware of how obnoxious we are
to the people who don’t know us well. Cole and Haden grab the drinks while Joey
and I gather the rest and then head up to the stands to take a seat in the
bleachers.
There
is barely any place to sit. It’s the biggest game of the season and we are lost
in a sea of school spirit. Red and blue, our high school’s colors, are
everywhere—on faces, on clothes, even in hair.
Unfortunately,
we stand out. We always do when we are together.
The
boys flanking my side are the reasons I am both hated and envied by the girls
at school. My relationship with this group of unique but equally lovable boys
has most questioning what exactly we are to each other.
Most
think I am sleeping with not only Joey, but the rest of them as well.
No
one understands that we could be so close and not be involved romantically.
They see me in the jersey and instantly want to tear my eyes out. They see the
shirt as a sign of possession that isn’t there. But the girls don’t know that.
Thanks, Brax.
Each
of the guys is different. But each matters.
To me.
There’s
Haden, with his dark hair that’s almost black. Because of his quiet nature,
people make assumptions about him that couldn’t be further from the truth. But
he likes it like that. He’s never been one to care what people say about him,
and his perceived bad-boy image coupled with his piercing blue eyes catch the
attention of most girls. Not that he’s interested.
In
his trademark black T-shirt and jeans, he looks like the stereotypical
stoner—more likely to ditch class than to show up at a football game on a
Friday night.
But
I know Haden, and he has a big heart and gentle spirit. His eyes are soulful
and full of secrets. I know he keeps things from the rest of us. And it’s this
fathomlessness that intimidates everyone else.
Cole
strolls up the stairs in his Jane’s Addiction concert tee, but I know he’s got
his school spirit towel with him. He likes to pretend that he’s not interested
in all the “school crap,” but he is. He’s a school spirit junkie and he’ll be
chanting cheers louder than anyone in the crowd. Cole knows that the girls are
checking him out, but he does a great job of playing aloof.
Then
there’s Joey: my other half, my platonic soul mate. If I had to pick one of the
guys that
knows
me best, it’s Joey. I have confided
things to him that no girl would ever share with someone of the opposite sex. I
should be embarrassed at the things he knows about me, but I’m not, and that’s
why I love him so much. No one understands the intensity that lies beneath the
button down oxfords and perfectly pressed jeans. He dresses the part of the
school geek, but there’s so much more to him than that. Sometimes I believe I’m
the only one who sees it. But the rest of our friends aren’t that blind.
Cole
points to an open spot in the stands and we all make our way to the seats,
pushing through the heaving crowd.
The
players have already taken to the field. Looking at the scoreboard, I can tell
we’ve already missed two plays.
Not that I care
.
If
it weren’t for Braxton, none of us would be here.
Braxton
is the one person in our group that everyone in the school loves. He’s a top
athlete with model looks and great personality. Most people wonder why he hangs
out with the rest of us, but what they don’t know about Braxton is that he’s
not about popularity. I have seen him talk to the homeliest girl in school and
give her the same attention he would the prettiest. I think that’s the thing I
love most about Brax: he’s a genuinely nice guy, and that’s why people are
drawn to him.
As
we take our seats, I notice Joey looking around until he spots Bailey. She
doesn’t notice him right away, but when she does, they smile broadly at each
other. He tried to get Bailey to come with us, but she said she was going with
her friends.
“Hey,
Joey,” I call out and wait to get his attention. “Why don’t you go sit with
her?”
“Maybe
after halftime. I told her I’d see her later.” He waves and she blows him a
kiss.
The
announcer calls out Braxton’s name and everyone, including us, cheers him on. He
never looks at the stands but he knows we’re here because we’ve always made it
a point to support each other.
“I
guess we know the flavor of the week,” a female voice says from behind me,
causing several others with her to laugh.
I
know they’re talking about me.
They’re
always talking about me.
It’s been this way since I was in seventh grade,
but I’ve made it my mission to ignore it.
“She
certainly gets around,” another voice chimes in.
Cole
is sitting to my left, Haden to my right, and both guys are staring at the
field but neither is paying attention to the game. I watch out of my peripheral
as Haden’s forearm muscles tense and relax while Cole bites his lip. They are
intently focused on the words being thrown at me, but keep quiet for the time
being.
“She
must be good because they all stick around,” a guy’s voice states in salacious
tone that makes me nauseous.
I
don’t wait for another barb to be hurled my way, even though I know it’s
coming. I throw my arm around Haden and whisper something in his ear before
kissing his cheek then turning to do the same to Cole. I lean forward to see
Joey, who is next to Cole, and give him a wink. “I’ll get you later, baby.”
He
shakes his head and laughs. “Why must you stir the pot?”
Haden smiles, proud of my display, and it
pushes
me on.
I
turn to look at the three classmates who have stopped chattering long enough to
watch my little show, jaws hanging open. I shrug my shoulders and answer Joey.
“I’m just giving them what they want.”
One
of the girls, Kasey, looks at me and raises a brow, “And what about Braxton?”
I
glance over to Cole, who’s listening to everything but is still watching the
game. He smirks as if he knows what’s coming, and a smile of my own begins to
break.
They
are gawking at me when I turn and wet my lips before winking at the girls.
“If
he wins, we all win,” I say huskily.
“Touchdown!”
the announcer yells and the crowd jumps to their feet to celebrate. All but the
three jerks behind me.
I
look forward to this day all week.
The
quarry has served as our escape, though we used to call them cliffs when we
were kids. The place seemed much bigger back then, but it serves as the perfect
hangout location. We can’t drive cars back here because there are no roads, so
we either have to hike or ride bikes.
Fortunately
it’s in the back of our neighborhood and none of us have to go more than a mile
to get to the location.
“You’re
late,” I hear Joey’s voice call as I move through the bushes.
“You’re
the only one here. You’re early,” I argue.
He
laughs and walks over to help me over the scratchy brush. We walk into the open
space and he crosses his arms over his chest to study me.
Joey
has that cute, nerd thing working for him—borderline hipster, minus the
douchey
stench of wannabe cool. He worked out with Braxton
over the summer to impress Bailey, and I have to admit he looks pretty good. As
he stands in his khaki shorts and white T-shirt that fits snug on his biceps,
his appeal is apparent. I’m glad he never got
contacts,
because his black-rimmed frames fit the Joey I’ve known almost all of my life.
“What
was with you Friday night?” he finally asks, and I feel my cheeks flush.
“Me?”
“You.”
“I
don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, since Friday night is still fresh
in my memory.
“Public
displays of affection,” he laughs.
“PDA,
Joey. It’s called PDA. And what, I can’t kiss my friends on the cheeks?”
“Who
kissed what, where?” Braxton asks as he emerges from the bushes.
“Lai.”
He points at me. “Kasey, Samantha, and Cooper were talking about her, so she
decided to make things better for herself by—”
“Kissing
all of us,” Cole finishes for him as he hops off his mountain bike.
“What
the hell, Lai?” Braxton looks at me with wide eyes.
“You
heard him. I just gave them something to talk about.”
“Yeah,
more to say about you,” Cole scoffs.
“What
was she supposed to do?” Haden asks, causing all of us to turn in his
direction. “The way I see it, they’ll say something whether she defends herself
or not. I’m glad you stood up for yourself. As unconventional as it may have
been.”
“Thank
you, Haden,” I answer sweetly with a smile. “At least he gets it. Why are you
on my case?”
Braxton
walks over and puts his arm over my shoulder. “You know we don’t like people
talking about you.”
“I’m
a big girl. I can take care of myself. Right?” The four exchange looks between
themselves before finally looking at me. “Need I remind you, I have kicked all
of your
asses
at some point in our twelve years
together.”
“One
time, Nixon. You took me down one time when we were ten,” Cole bellows.
“Yeah,
she got you good,” Joey starts teasing him.
“What?
I was sick,” Cole protests with narrowed eyes.
“Sick?”
Joey quips. “The only thing you were sick from was the beating you took from
Nixon the Vixen here when she busted your lip for grabbing her ass.”
“Hey
now.” Cole throws his hands up defensively. “I saw some guy do it on TV and the
chick loved it.”
“Yeah,
well, I’m sure
this
chick would bust
your lip again if you tried it,” I scowl.
The
five of us walk over to the pile of rocks on the other side of the pond. We
attempted a rock fort some time back, but after one day of shuffling the things
around, we gave up. It was too much work and there were so many other things we
wanted to do. They have stayed where we left them and now serve as our
makeshift seating area.
“So
anything new and exciting going on?” I ask of no one in particular.
“Coach
got on my case for the fumble at the game,” Braxton says. “He keeps talking
about the college scouts, but at this point I’m just trying to get through the
semester. It’s been almost a month and I can barely keep up.”
“Dude,
what do you need help with?” Joey, our resident geek, asks. By the end of our
senior year, he’ll go into college as a sophomore.
“All
of it?” Braxton answers as though it’s a question.
“What
day is the best for tutoring?” Joey asks.
“I
guess Mondays,” he shrugs.
“All
right, I have one other person I tutor on Mondays. Why don’t you come over at
six and you can stick around for dinner. I’m sure Mom won’t mind.”
“Thanks,
man. I appreciate it.”
These
are seriously the best group of guys I know.
“What
about you, Joe?” Cole asks. “How are things with Bailey?”
“Not
too bad. I think I might be able to talk her into movie night next week but
she’s afraid of y’all.”
“Us?”
Cole repeats. “Who would be afraid of us?”
Joey
doesn’t answer and I know what the implication is. He’s mentioned a few times
the way Bailey seems to shy away when my name is brought up.
“I
think what Joey
isn’t
saying is that
she doesn’t know what to think of me.”
That’s
always been the hurdle for these guys, and a reason that when they are
involved, I tend to stay away. I never want their girlfriends to feel that I’m
a threat, because I’m not. I really want my guys to be happy.
“It’s
not that,” Joey argues. “She just doesn’t understand how we all fit together.”
“No
one understands,” Cole shouts. “That’s the beauty of it: we’re misfits.”
“Always
have been,” Braxton agrees.
“Everything
okay, Searle?” Braxton asks of Haden, who is quieter than normal.
Haden
runs his hand through his hair and looks out in the distance. He finally turns
to face us and I can tell something is weighing on him.
“Yeah,”
he starts. “Things are fine. Just some things have come up lately that are,
well—pretty big.”
“Spill
it.” I jump up and down like the girl I never show them I am.
“You
know how I spent the whole summer interning with Stefon, the artist?”
We
all nod and wait for him to continue.
“Well,
it turns out that his publicist really liked my work. He let me hang out and
work after hours and decided to show her my work.”
“That’s
cool, Searle.” Joey smiles. “What does that mean?”
“It
means that he’s got a show in three weeks and he wants me to show my art in one
of the rooms for up-and-comers.”
“Are
you serious?” I beam and he nods. I’ve seen some Haden’s art and it’s truly
beautiful.
“Where
is it? Do we gotta get dressed up?” Braxton asks.
Haden’s
smile fades and he looks uncomfortable. “Look, I appreciate that y’all want to
be there, but—”
“You
don't want us there,” Cole finishes for him.
“It’s
not that, it’s just-”
“He
did nudes of your mom, Cameron,” Braxton jokes with Cole, who punches his arm
in response.
Haden
laughs. “No, nothing like that. I just need to do this one on my own first.
Y’all can come one of the other nights, but opening night I need to go it
alone.”
“If
you say so,” Braxton concedes, but adds, “Just say the word and you know we’ll
be there.”
We
all nod in agreement and one of the guys changes the subject to take the focus
off Haden. I’m not paying attention because I’m still stuck on the reason he
doesn’t want us there. What else is going on that he won’t let us be there on
the biggest night of his life? We share everything; we’re there for each other.
Always
.
The
guys continue talking about their week and what they have coming up, but I’m
still trying to figure out what’s going on.
Why can’t we be there?
What’s he hiding?
Does he not trust us after
all this time?
I
look over to see Haden looking at me as if he’s reading my mind and I shrug,
silently questioning him. He gives me a lopsided grin and shakes his head,
dismissing my concern.
Oh, this is so not over.
He’s going to tell me what's going on!
*
* *
“Laila,”
Dad calls out from downstairs. “Haden’s here.”
“Yeah,
be right down,” I answer. I locate my jogging clothes and change before
grabbing my phone as I run downstairs.
Haden
is in the living room talking with my parents when I reach the bottom. My
little sister Luka, the five-year-old
accident
,
is sitting next to him playing with the black bracelets on his left wrist.
“Searle,”
I say his name as I walk into the room.
He
grabs Luka’s hand and kisses her wrist, causing the rat to blush, and he
laughs.
“You
ready?”
“Yeah,
let’s move,” he says, pointing to the door. “We won’t be long,” he informs my
parents.
“You
got all your homework done, sweetie?” Mom asks.
“Yes
ma’am.” I salute, to which she narrows her eyes.
“All
right, missy. I expect one hundreds. Bye, Haden.”
“Goodnight,
Mrs. Nixon.” Haden smiles at her as he pulls the door open for me.
“You
are such a kiss-ass,” I say as I lean against the porch railing.
“You
think they bought it?” He stands next to me and mimics my stance.
“Bought
what?
The nice guy thing?
Yeah, pretty sure,
considering you
are
a nice guy.”
He
smiles as he nudges his elbow into mine.
“Keep
it down, I don’t want everyone to know.”
“Too
late,” I tease.
“C’mon,
let’s go before it gets too dark out.”
“What,
you won’t protect me?” I ask as we walk down the front steps.
“Nah,
you can protect me,” he says as we reach the end of the walkway. “Left or
right?”
“Right,”
I say quickly.
Every
time we run, it’s the same question, and I always give the same answer. I love
that he asks anyway. We start jogging at an easy pace, neither of us saying a
word.
Sunday
nights, after our group hangout, Haden and I like to go for a three-mile run,
give or take a mile. We’ve been doing this since freshman year. He knew how
upset I would get about the gossip and thought that running would be a good way
to clear my head. After a while, I just liked the way it made me feel.
“How’s
your mom?” I ask.
“She’s
fine. Sleeping right now—she had a long shift at the hospital,” he says.
“Maybe
I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow,” I offer, somewhat winded.
“I’m
not sure that’s a good idea. She’s been picking up extra shifts, but I’ll tell
her you said hi.”
I
nod in agreement and we fall into comfortable silence. The neighborhood feels
empty, except for the occasional car that passes. Our feet tap a rhythm on the
pavement and our breaths echo the sound, somehow soothing me. Mom and Dad were
not happy about my trip to the principal’s office, but when I explained
everything to them, they sided with me. Although the way I handled things did
get me grounded for a week.
Good
thing I have my books.
The
thing about running is that my mind starts replaying things that I’ve pushed
back. The incident with Mr. Tredway, the football game, Bailey and
of
course Haden’s news.
I
stop running but he continues a few steps further before stopping and turning
to face me.
“What—”
I start, but I’m too winded to finish.
“What?”
he asks.
“What
are you—” I hold my finger up before placing my hands behind my head to
catch my breath.
“You
okay?” he asks and moves closer to check on me.
“Yeah,”
I answer. I take a few deep breaths and fix my eyes on him. “What’s up? Why
won’t you let us come to your showing?”
He
rolls his eyes and turns away.
Irritated,
I step to get in his path so he has to look at me. “Don’t do that. Tell me why
we can’t come.”
“It’s
not that I don’t want y’all there—I said y’all could come another night.
No one knows me as well as you do, but it’s a little weird letting everyone in
to see what goes on in my mind.”
“We
are not everyone,” I remind him. “We’re your family, Searle. We love you.”