by E. D. Brady
Chapter 4
During the next week of school, Layla and Jay fell into a comfortable pattern of friendship. They sat together in English every day, and he was eager to join her and Julie in the cafeteria during lunch. On a couple of occasions, he even met her outside certain rooms to walk her to her next class. The fact that the aloof Jay Logan was now getting very friendly with Layla did not go unnoticed by some of the other students, especially the so-called popular girls. She witnessed many heads turning to stare after her and Jay as they walked the halls laughing and carrying-on. It seemed that his personality change caused a sudden interest in befriending Jay, especially among the female students. Layla noticed, on more than one occasion, certain girls hanging around Jay at his locker, waiting to get an opportunity to talk to him. If she was to admit the truth, it bothered her slightly, but she and Jay were only friends, and she had no right to feel possessive. At least that’s what she tried to convince herself until the morning that she noticed Rachael Newman leaning up against the locker besides Jay’s as he rummaged around inside for a certain book. Rachael was the epitome of a Barbie-doll. With her blonde highlights, manicured acrylic-tipped nails, abundance of self-confidence, and the tightest of outfits, she had most of the males eating out of her hand.
Layla couldn’t hear what Rachael was saying from a distance, but she could read the body language loud and clear, and she wondered how many times Rachael could flick her hair without giving herself whiplash.
Trying to squelch the immature knot in her stomach, Layla decided to walk by as quickly as possible without looking in their direction. She looked straight ahead and walked with determination, as though deep in thought, until she felt a hand grab her wrist.
“You don’t say hello?” Jay asked when Layla turned to face him.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she lied.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he questioned while Rachael stood by, looking disgruntled.
“Science lab,” Layla responded.
“I’ll walk you,” Jay muttered. “Bye Rachael,” he called out without looking back, giving Layla a childish sense of self-satisfaction.
When Layla walked into the cafeteria at lunchtime, yours truly was sitting in her usual seat facing Jay. Understanding that the jealousy she felt was uncalled for, she walked across the room slowly, trying to bury the unpleasant sensation coursing through her.
Jay looked up and smiled, tapping the seat next to him.
“Hi,” Layla muttered, walking around him to sit down.
Jay turned his seat around to face her. “Hi,” he answered. “Would you do me a favor and check out my math homework? I’m not sure if I’ve gotten the formula right.” He pulled out a notebook and placed it on Layla’s lap then bent his head over so that their foreheads were nearly touching.
“Did I take your seat?” Rachael asked falsely in an attempt to remind them that she was still sitting there.
Layla fought the urge to roll her eyes and just smiled over at Rachael.
“It’s okay,” Jay answered before Layla had a chance to.
Layla looked over Jay’s homework thoroughly. “This looks perfect,” she stated, glancing up at him.
“Thanks,” he replied. “So what’s new?”
Before Layla could answer, Rachael jumped up. “I’ll see you later, Jay,” she said. “I have a few things to do.” She walked away but glanced back with a sour look on her face.
“I didn’t know you and Rachael were friends,” Layla said as casually as she could manage.
“I wouldn’t exactly call us friends, but she’s been very chatty lately.”
Layla smiled. “She seems like a nice girl.”
“Um, she’s okay,” Jay answered. “She kind of reminds me of Hartley, though.”
“In what way?” Layla asked.
“Too puffed up on herself to get the message,” he said with a smirk, echoing Layla’s description of Kevin.
At that moment, his phone beeped. He picked it up off the table and looked at the front then a wide smile spread over his face. He tapped the front a few times, answering the text. “My friend, Ben, just arrived in town,” he explained.
“Is he from here?” she questioned.
“No, he came down to visit me.”
“Where’s he staying?” she asked.
“He’s at my house already. Ben has his own set of keys. He’s like family.”
Layla found herself smiling along with him. After over two months of seeing him alone all the time, she was glad that he actually had a close friend. On more than one occasion, she’d felt pity for him. Not only did he appear to be a loner, his parents took off for an extended stay in Europe, leaving him all by himself. Even the most independent and solitude of people had to get lonely at times under those conditions, hadn’t they?
“I’ve been wondering how your projects are coming along,” Mr. Schultz said the following day in English class.
Layla looked over at Jay and rolled her eyes.
“Anyone care to tell me what they’ve decided to do it on?”
Laura Jenkins, a quiet girl who usually sat up front, raised her hand. “Claire and I have decided to do ours on Animal Farm,” she explained. “I plan to show how inexperience and apathy to certain situations within new political structures could lead to all kinds of cruel and unjust situations if an even changeover, one that is beneficial to the basic rights of the people, is not achieved. Claire, on the other hand, believes that the story is too stereotyped and reflects a political standard that doesn’t apply to our modern world, therefore, rendering the novel irrelevant.”
“Good,” Mr. Schultz praised. “I look forward to reading that.”
Layla looked at Jay and raised her eyebrows. “We’re screwed,” she mouthed, causing him to snicker.
When the bell rang, he picked her backpack off the ground and carried it along with his own. “I think we really need to get our heads down on this,” he said. “Are you free tonight?”
“Sure,” she answered, feeling the all too familiar butterflies flutter in her stomach. “But I thought your friend was in town. Won’t you be spending time with him?”
“He’s going out to see that new 3D superhero movie,” Jay replied.
“Alone?” Layla asked. “Don’t you want to go with him?”
“He’s big enough to go to the movies alone,” Jay said sarcastically. “And he’ll be here for a while, so we have plenty of time to hang out.”
“Okay, then,” she answered.
“Good. I’ll get you before seven,” he promised.
Later that afternoon, Layla said good-bye to Julie and made her way toward her house, noticing a strange car parked further up her driveway.
Once inside, she heard voices beyond the dining room and slowed down her march to the kitchen. It appeared that James had an associate over, and they seemed to be discussing something important.
“That’s why I rushed over here,” an unfamiliar male voice said from the kitchen. “There’s a possibility he’s in this very area.”
“I know when I moved here that he kept a home somewhere nearby, but never really expected that he used it much. It was one of those ‘off-chance’ decisions on my part,” James replied. “How do you know this? Has someone seen him?”
“Manuel claims he saw that upstart, Orton, this morning,” the unknown man replied. “And you know wherever Orton is, he is usually not far behind.”
“That’s really interesting,” James answered. “I would love to get my hands on Orton. I can’t tell you how many ways I’ve envisioned killing that guy over the years.”
“Do you think you could?” Layla heard the man reply.
“There are ways, or so I’ve been led to believe. But I didn’t mean that literally,” James replied with a chuckle. “Besides, I’d never get my hands on the stuff that way.”
‘Well, that’s good to know,’ Layla thought, rolling her eyes.
“Does Manuel know
where to find Orton?” James asked.
“He literally just saw him in Target, of all places,” the man answered.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, that could have been anyone,” James said, exasperated.
“Manuel was more than certain that it was him,” the man responded. “At any rate, he’s keeping an eye out for him.”
“If I managed to get my hands on Orton, I could use him as a bargaining chip,” James said in a wistful voice.
“Should I tell Manuel to grab him if he sees him again?” the man questioned.
“Absolutely,” James answered. “But warn him that Orton will more than likely be armed at this point.”
Layla’s eyes bulged. What on earth were these men talking about? So murder was off limits, but kidnapping…just dandy. Whatever it was, she knew she didn’t like the sound of it, and more than that, it was giving her an insight into James that she wasn’t very comfortable with.
She banged her book bag down on the dining room table roughly to alert the kidnapping conspirators of her presence. She didn’t want to hear anything else that was unfit for her ears. Then, with heavy steps, she plodded toward the kitchen. The message had been received loud and clear because the conversation stopped in its tracks.
“Oh, hey, James,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage.
“Hey, Layla,” James replied with a warm smile. “This is Robert. He’s giving me an estimate on how much it would be to remodel the kitchen,” he added awkwardly.
‘Yeah, right,’ she thought. “Hi, Robert, It’s nice to meet you,” she said with what warmth she could muster.
She grabbed a diet coke from the fridge and made her way to her bedroom as quickly as possible, replaying the strange conversation over and over in her mind. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she tried to figure out what ‘It was one of those ‘off-chance’ decisions on my part’ could possibly mean. Was it possible that James had moved there for another motive than the one he’d told them about initially? His reasoning always did seem a little bit flimsy to Layla. If he sold his loft in Manhattan, he told them at the time, they could move into a beautiful big house in a clean, quiet and virtually crime-free neighborhood with a great school system. Considering that his company was on Long Island, Layla wondered why they just didn’t move out there. Nassau and Suffolk counties had many neighborhoods that fit the same description. Obviously they would’ve had to settle for a smaller house, but they barely used all the rooms they had as it was. At least James would have been a lot closer to his work, instead of having to run up to New York every month to check on the business. It was all too much for her to consider; the fact that James had moved states in the hopes of bumping into someone, someone he didn’t sound all that thrilled about, yet wanted something from, something he was prepared to commit a kidnapping for, or at least order others to kidnap for. And there was no way she could ask him to elaborate since he seemed eager to make up a lie to explain Roberts reasons for being there. Plus, she reckoned that if someone was involved in something that may be illegal, they would more than likely get a little antsy when a teenage girl starts asking questions.
She played the conversation around in her head again to see if there was any possible way it could have pertained to something completely legal, but then realized it was unlikely that she would know the difference anyway. Perhaps this Orton guy was a criminal, and James was doing a service to society.
She was relieved to finally hear her mother’s voice floating up the stairs. She jumped up and went downstairs to say hello.
James and Robert headed for the front door. “I’ll be home in an hour or two,” James yelled out.
“Where are you going?” Cheryl called after him.
“I have some business to attend to,” James replied before disappearing behind the door.
“Who was that man?” Layla asked when Robert’s car pulled out of the driveway.
“He’s an acquaintance of James’. I think James said he was giving him an estimate on how much it would cost to remodel the kitchen.”
“Since when does James want to remodel the kitchen?” Layla asked suspiciously.
Cheryl shrugged her shoulders. “I know,” she said. “It’s news to me also. Why do you ask? You look like you have something on your mind.”
“If I told you that I just overheard them talking about kidnapping someone, would you believe me?” Layla asked.
“Probably not,” Cheryl replied, yet she had an anxious look on her face. “Tell me everything.”
When Layla finished relaying what she’d heard, Cheryl looked thunderstruck. “Say nothing about this, Layla,” she warned. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but let me see what I can uncover quietly.”
“How do you plan to do that?” Layla asked.
“I’ll see if I can find anything in James’ study with the name Orton on it, but I have to confess, I think you’re probably making a bigger deal out of this than necessary. I’ve known James as long as I knew your father, and he is not the type to commit a crime of any sort. I’m more than positive that you took the conversation up wrong, or that there’s a logical explanation.”
Layla nodded. “Maybe,” she agreed.
When James returned, they sat down together for dinner, both Layla and Cheryl doing their best to appear as casual as possible. Surprisingly, by the time dinner was over, Layla had done a fine job of burying the whole incident completely.
She ran to her room to change. She brushed her hair into a ponytail and applied a tiny bit of mascara and a little pail lipstick, her usual routine.
“You look really pretty, Layla,” her mother said, glancing up from the book she was reading. “What time will you be home?”
Layla shrugged her shoulders and shook her head from side to side in a ‘what-time-do-you-wan-me-home’ manner.
“Be back by eleven,” Cheryl said flatly.
Layla rolled her eyes. “I’m almost eighteen,” she huffed.
“Not for another couple of weeks,” her mother reminded her. “And besides, I don’t know this boy you’re hanging around with.”
“I told you before, it’s just a school project.”
“Um, hum,” Cheryl replied, rolling her eyes sarcastically.
Layla rushed out of the house before her mother could make any more stupid comments. Of course Jay was already waiting, door opened.
“Are you sure you’re really from this century?” Layla asked sarcastically after he climbed into the car.
Jay coughed.
“Fall allergies?” she questioned.
“Um, they’re killing me,” he responded. “Why did you ask that?”
“It’s just that most guys aren’t that gentlemanly these days, y’know holding open car doors for girls,” she responded.
“Yes, well, a lady should be treated accordingly, at least in my opinion,” he replied.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked as he pulled away from the driveway.
“The plan is that we don’t get distracted tonight, not for anything,” he answered. “I don’t want a couple of nerdy bookworms to do better than us.”
“Jay!” she scolded. “That’s mean.”
“I know,” he answered, smiling impishly. “But I was just kidding.”
When they arrived at his house, Jay ushered her into the kitchen where he had a notepad and pencils sitting ready on the table.
“You really mean business, don’t you?” she teased.
“Yes, now sit down and we’ll get straight to it.”
He grabbed a coke from the fridge along with a diet for Layla and set them out next to iced glasses.
It was useless. Every time one of them blurted out the name of a book it would start a conversation that would stray far off topic until they were both laughing at something completely unrelated.
The good part of all the goofing off was that Layla couldn’t remember the last time she’d bonded so well with someone. Jay was so easy to be around. He was sweet, interesting, and t
hey seemed to share the same strange sense of humor. The bad part of all the goofing off, she was becoming more and more completely and utterly infatuated, regardless of the many times she tried to convince herself otherwise. She vowed to herself that she would keep the infatuation at bay, knowing that if she let it get out of control, it could ruin a new friendship she was growing to value tremendously.
“I’d better get you home,” Jay said at one point, looking over at the clock on the wall. “I have a great idea though,” he added. “I’ll explain on the ride home.”
When Jay had backed his car out of the driveway and was cruising down the street, Layla looked over expectantly. “Well?” she asked. “What’s your idea?”
“I was thinking that since we’re hopeless at getting together to work on the project, that I should invite you over to my house tomorrow night to hang out. Y’know, just hang out, nothing else.”
“How does that help?” she questioned, already loving the idea.
“Reverse psychology,” he replied pointedly.
“It’s worth a try,” she answered.
“Okay, so it’s a date then?” he asked.
Layla’s heart raced a little, wondering if he meant that literally or figuratively. “Sure,” she responded.
When he pulled up in front of her house, she turned to look at him. “Thanks again for another really fun night,” she said.
But instead of answering her, Jay leaned over and pressed his lips to hers briefly. He pulled back, an almost guilty expression gracing his face. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.
“I don’t mind at all,” she answered shyly.
“Really?” he questioned, a smile spreading over his face.
She blushed and gripped the car door handle. “Bye, Jay,” she said, hurrying out before he had a chance to open the door for her.
“Can I pick you up at six tomorrow night?” he called out the window.
“Okay,” she replied, turning around to look at him one more time. She waved then ran up her driveway.