Chapter 4: Layla

My fingers tighten around the ball. Alex, the blonde girl, approaches with disdain, twisting her pretty features. Her focus drops to my leg, and she tilts her head to the side. False pity fills her eyes.

"I’m sure the coach would let you wear sweatpants, considering…" She flicks her hair.

Once again, words fail me, and I try to catch Jared’s eye, but he’s further down, engrossed in passing a ball. He doesn’t remember me. His right hand has a dark ink band around the wrist. I think it’s a tattoo, but I can’t be sure from this distance.

Fingers click in front of my face. "I’d like to get some physical activity done today." She follows my line of sight before a hateful laugh falls from her ruby red lips. "So out of your league. Jay wouldn’t give you a second glance."

I fire the ball at Alex, and she catches it quickly.

"Jay?"

Her expression hardens. "That’s what I said."

She passes the ball to me, and we continue this as the knowledge that this guy isn’t Jared slowly sinks in. He may remind me of Jared, but from his hostile glares, I can assume that the recognition I thought I saw isn’t really there. He has no idea who I am.

When class ends, I’m a little less shaky and quickly change back into my clothes. Alex and two other girls talk openly about me gawking at Jay. When their words grow hushed, I hear them talking about my scarred leg.

I leave without looking at the circle of mean girls. That’s what they are, mean girls. Most schools have them, but I didn’t expect to find the mean girls in college. I’ve been fortunate enough not to attract the attention of them before. I’ve always been able to fly under the radar.

Passing through the gym, I can’t help but search for Jay. The area is empty.

Taking out my schedule, I check to see what my next class is. Pivoting, I stop as I come face-to-face with a girl who wears a name tag: Ashley. Her tawny skin is flawless, as is her long black ponytail. With eyes not quite green or brown focused on me intently, I shuffle my feet, feeling self-aware. What does she see when she looks at me?

A tall, thin, and pale girl who is staring at her for far too long?

"I’ve been assigned to be your guide." Her accent sounds Hispanic, which makes sense with her features. She turns on her heel with a slight smile. Her movements remind me of a ballerina. Her frame isn’t really suited to that, though, as she’s all curves. "By the way, I’m Ashley." She pulls at her name tag as she speaks. "I’ll show you where we eat."

I follow Ashley to a large empty room that is lined with benches and long tables. Right now, the space is empty, but I can imagine the activity during break times. This is one space I will avoid. Two ladies dressed in white aprons hustle behind a long silver steam table.

"Great," I say.

Ashley grins, flashing white teeth. "It’s not a restaurant, but the food is decent. Trust me, after morning classes, this place is like a haven."

I nod. Not to me.

Being around people isn’t something I do often, unless you count Morgan, the girl who lives across the street from me. We moved here only two weeks ago and her mother greeted us on our first day in the neighbored. That night I ended up going out with Morgan and her friends just to please Carl and Evelyn.

I follow her out to the bustling hallway. She points a lot as she tells me where everything is. "That’s the library. Avoid the back area." She rolls her eyes as she glances at me over her shoulder. "That’s where people go for fun times."

I’m making notes. Avoid the library and the lunch area. We stop at a gray door.

"So this is our business class. We better go in before we’re late." She pushes open the door, and we step into the lecture room. I don’t look around me. I keep focused on the steps I climb until I see a row at the back empty. That’s where I sit, with my single notepad and pen. Coming to a new college halfway through the year is tougher than I imagined. This college is way ahead of where I left off at my old college. I spend the next few hours going from one class to the next. Ashley never leaves me, and I’m grateful for her constant chatter.

"So, it’s lunch now. Are you good at finding your way there?"

My blood heats up in my veins at the thought of being left on my own, but I need to rely on myself. I nod. "Yeah, sure, I’m good."

The heat spreads across my checks, but Ashley doesn’t seem to notice as she rolls her shoulders before heading toward the mass of students. I look around and decide to make my way outside. I’m tempted to glance up and make eye contact with people, but after my run-in with who I thought was Jared, my nerves are rattled, and my stamina has dwindled to nothing.

A group of guys have gathered close to the main door blocking me from leaving.

The scent of cigarette smoke surrounds them. All of them have similar features to Ashley’s. My steps falter at the sight of the group, but I push one leg in front of the other until I reach the door..

One of the guys, who wears jeans that hang way too low and a T-shirt that could house a few guys his size, grins at me. His eyes travel from my flat black shoes, up to my black jeans, and on to my white shirt.

"You’re new?" he says with a wide smirk.

"Yes. I just started today." I’m ready to walk away when he steps in front of me. "Can I help you with something?" I ask, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"You can help me with a few things."

The suggestive remark has his friend laughing while bumping into him. "Man, you hittin’ on whitey?"

I can feel each nerve zing inside of me. I want to run out of the building. I force a smile and sidestep them. My hands roll into fists until my knuckles turn white and my heart hammers.

Don’t run.

"Lucas, you dumb…" Ashley gives me a quick look before glancing back at the trio. The one who spoke to me is Lucas.

"What are you doing?" Her hands go to her hips, and she looks fierce. I want to be like her when I grow up.

"Don’t be like that, hermana," Lucas says.

Ashley tuts at his words. "Does Madre know you’re here, bobo?"

The other boy snickers. "She called you a fool!"

"You are a bobo too, Sam," Ashley says.

Sam’s smile melts off his face.

"We are only messing, Ashley. Relax," Lucas says, removing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

Ashley moves away from Lucas and Sam, who split and go back down the main corridor, but not before calling goodbye to Ashley and blowing her kisses—ones she doesn’t respond to.

As they leave, a familiar voice rises up.

Why didn’t I say something?

How many times have I frozen in the past? When Bert was screaming a question at me, I’d freeze. Not responding was the worst thing to do, but I always froze.

I am such an idiot.

"Are you okay, Layla?"

My head jerks up at Ashley’s voice. "Yeah, fine. Why?"

Ashley looks away from me briefly, then her nose scrunches up as she speaks. "You’ve been staring at the same spot for the last few minutes."

The heat comes again, fast and hard—my face blazes.

"Look, I know Lucas and Sam can be full-on. But they’re harmless." Ashley tucks her hands into her shirt pockets while leaning against the wall. Her stance looks so relaxed, but her eyes once again are fierce, making them grow more brown than green.

"I’m just… not good with new people."

She nods like she gets it, but there’s no way she could understand what I’m saying, and I’m not going to enlighten her about my childhood from hell.

"Lucas and Sam are my brothers, and they wouldn’t hurt a fly. They’re Idiots, but they wouldn’t hurt anyone." Ashley stands straight with a goofy grin on her face. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

It’s a simple question that people ask each other all the time. For me, it’s one of the hardest. My nerves are frazzled, and I push back on my heels. If I say I do, she’ll ask more questions. If I say I don’t, I feel like I’m hiding Jared, Riley, and Nelson. My throat dries up and my pulse spikes. "Oh. I better get going. I forgot my purse." She turns away while nodding. "We’ll chat later."

I try to mirror her smile. "Yeah. Great."

The moment Ashley is gone, I grip my bag and walkout of the building.

Tomorrow will be better. First days are always the worst. I’ll try harder. I won’t search for Jared in every set of brown eyes.

My nose and throat burn as I take a peek at the car park. Carl won’t be here yet, and it gives me a few moments to pull myself together. I don’t get to process much more, as a large hand springs out, and I’m dragged around the side of the building. The moment my back hits the wall, I’m frozen under the heavy stare of a set of dark, angry eyes.

And I’m at it again. All I can think about is Jared.