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  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.

  Chapter 2

  “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 boyfrie
nd?” 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.