Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1)

by Laura Clark

  I glance at Sam again, but he just shakes his head in defeat. I just want to wrap my arms around him and comfort him, but I don't. That kind of thing might just send Kyle right over the edge.

  "Do you even hear what I am saying, Kyle? We are dating," I repeat louder and with more emphasis. I tap Kyle hard on his shoulder, demanding that he acknowledge me. He shrugs me off like I'm a gnat.

  "You have to actually go somewhere to be dating, Laila. He's in college. You are in high school. You are not dating." He sighs, and steps toward Sam.

  "And you," Kyle says more forcefully while pointing violently at Sam's chest, causing him to stumble backwards. "Are sure as hell not dating my little sister." Kyle's voice is shaky, yet stern.

  I feel guilty because none of this is fair. It's not fair that Kyle had to find out like this. It's not fair that Sam has to take the brunt of the blame. It's not fair to either one of us, to see everything unraveling so quickly.

  Sam slumps down onto the edge of my bed, and buries his head in his hands with his elbows on his lap. He runs his hands through his hair a few times.

  "Kyle, you have to understand. I didn't plan for this to happen. It just . . . happened. But it isn't just a hook-up. I mean I really like her." He sighs, as he wipes his sweaty palms on his basketball shorts. "Do you remember how I was trying to tell you about that incredible girl that I met? I was talking about Laila."

  "So what you mean to say is that you fucking lied to me." The protruding vein on my brother's forehead looks like it is going to burst, as his angry eyes bore into Sam.

  "No, not exactly. Even though we technically didn't just meet like I said we did, it feels like we did because we are now seeing each other in this whole new way." He is still trying his best to reason with Kyle, but it is clear that anything Sam says is going to be about as effective as throwing stones at a brick wall. No amount of rock throwing is going to break through Kyle's stubborn exterior.

  "This is not okay," he repeats to Sam. He lets out another frustrated growl, before pounding his fist right through my wall. He rubs his hand and leaves the room.

  "Holy crap. What is wrong with him? Kyle, get your ass back here." I call after him, but Sam pulls my arm back, preventing me from leaving the room.

  I survey the damage on the wall. It's bad, really bad. I peel away the dangling piece of drywall and chuck it into the trashcan. How am I supposed to explain the huge hole in my wall to my parents?

  I look at Sam, but his head is still buried in his hands. I keep expecting clumps of his hair to come out with his fingers because he is yanking on it so hard.

  "Okay, so this is bad. So very bad, Sam. What are we going to do?" I ask, as I run my fingers along the rough edge of the exposed drywall, half expecting a few hidden splinters to prickle me.

  "I have no idea." For the first time I can remember, Sam sounds completely defeated. "I need to go talk to him," he says quietly. He doesn't even look at me on his way out. He just keeps his head down, and quickly slips out of my room.

  My stomach is wrenching so badly that I feel like I might lose my dinner. Part of me wants to go with Sam, but I don't. If he really wanted me there with him, he would have said so. Plus, everything I had tried to say before to Kyle only seemed to make matters worse.

  Instead, I hide out in my room, staring hopelessly at my damaged wall through an endless stream of tears. When the tears finally dry up, I realize that Sam and Kyle are probably not coming back any time soon. I might as well try and to go to bed. Maybe, I can close my eyes and wake up to find that all of this was just one big nightmare.

  Even though I am beyond exhausted, I am having trouble falling asleep. I keep hoping that they will come back up to my room to tell me that they worked everything out, and that it's all going to be okay. That never happens, though.

  When my door finally does open, and the hall light stabs me in the eye, waking me from my restless, half-slumbered state, I see Avery's small shadow creep into my room. She is trying to sneak in quietly, without waking me.

  "I'm awake," I announce to her groggily.

  "Oh, thank God." She sighs dramatically, while flipping on the switch to my bedside lamp. "I thought I was going to have to wait until tomorrow to find out what is going on."

  She plops down on the edge of my bed. I reach up and rub my tired, stinging eyes. When my eyes finally focus, they immediately find the big, gaping hole in my wall, reminding me of my real life crisis. I groan with frustration, and throw my pillow at the wall. I had really hoped what happened earlier was all just a bad dream.

  Avery covers her mouth when she sees the hole. "Laila, what happened to your wall?" she asks, before retrieving my pillow, and handing it back to me. I prop myself up onto my elbow and shove the pillow underneath me, as I prepare to rehash my very real nightmare.

  "So, um yeah . . . Kyle kind of walked in on Sam and me . . . when we were making out."

  I decide to put it all out there right away. It feels kind like ripping a Band-Aid off. You do it fast and just wait for the sting to set in. All you can hope for is that the pain will pass quickly.

  Avery's mouth forms a big O, before she covers it with her hands. She doesn't say anything at first. She looks at the wall again, and shakes her head in disbelief. She is, no doubt, filling in all of the blanks.

  "No way," she finally says. "Where were you guys?" she asks.

  "On my bed," I say quickly, before burying my red face under my pillow. I'm not sure why telling Avery this is so embarrassing. Maybe it's because I've never really made out with anyone besides Sam. I always assumed that telling my friends about things like this would be natural, but this feels very forced and awkward. Plus, it's kind of hard to be excited about it when there is a big honking hole in the wall, glaring back at me, reminding me of just how screwed up things are now.

  "Wow. Kyle must have been really pissed," she says, while gawking at the damaged wall. "Geeze, Laila. Is his hand even okay? That hole is huge." She grabs my other pillow, and tucks it under her chest and turns so she is lying on her stomach, facing me.

  "Kyle dropped the F-Bomb about a hundred times."

  "Wow. It must have been bad. Kyle never cusses."

  "I know, right? He was beyond livid, Avery. At one point, I thought he was going to seriously kill Sam. I'm just glad he punched the wall instead."

  "Yeah. No kidding. So, what did Kyle say?"

  "That I'm basically too young. He called me jailbait, Avery. Can you believe that? I even reminded him that my birthday is next month, but he didn't want to hear anything I had to say. He kept blaming Sam for everything."

  "Was he mad at you, too?"

  "That's the weird thing. He just kept telling me to stay out of it. He was acting like it was none of my business."

  "None of your business? Um . . . Hello? Weren't you the one that Sam was making out with?'

  "That's pretty much what I said, but Kyle just dismissed me."

  Avery bites her bottom lip and looks at me sympathetically.

  "Sorry, Lays. That really sucks. I'm sure they'll work it out, though. Kyle and Sam have been best friends forever. They have to work it out."

  I nod, not completely sure if I believe it myself . . . even though I want to, more than anything.

  "So, what happened downstairs? Did you hear what they were talking about?" I ask curiously.

  "Not really. I mean I was walking Trevor out when Kyle came downstairs. His face was all red, but he didn't really say anything about it. He just kept slamming stuff around in the kitchen, like he was really pissed off. Then, Sam came down after him, and I could hear them having a heated discussion. Trevor and I felt a little weird being down there while they were fighting. So, I walked him outside to the front porch. We stayed out there for a while."

  "So, you didn't know why they were arguing?" I ask.

  "No. I mean, the idea of Kyle finding out about you guys didn't even cross my mind. At one point, I heard the back door slam. Trevor was already in his car pull
ing out of the driveway, and I was about to go back inside. Then, Kyle came out onto the porch with a couple of bottles of cold beers. He just handed me one, and plopped down next to me on the swing, without ever saying anything about it."

  My heart sinks. "So, Sam just left? Did he ever come back?" I ask hopefully.

  "Not that I could tell. I mean Kyle and I hung outside for a while talking, but I didn't hear the back door open again, and he didn't come through the front."

  "So, what were you and Kyle talking about?" I ask curiously.

  She shrugs. "I asked him what was going on with him and Sam, but all he said was that Sam is an asshole. I could tell he didn't really want to talk about it, so I just left it alone."

  "You said you were out there for a while. What else did you guys talk about?" I ask, trying to imagine my brother and Avery alone, drinking beer together, and talking on our front porch like they are best buds.

  "Oh, so get this. Kyle kept asking me all these questions about Trevor. In fact, he was kind of going all overly-protective-big-brother on me, wanting to know if Trevor was pressuring me or making me uncomfortable tonight. It was kind of weird at the time, but now that I know why he was so upset in the first place. It all kind of makes sense," she explains.

  "No, that has nothing to do with Sam and me. He was doing that before he caught us, Avery."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I overheard Kyle talking to Trevor about it. Actually, it was more like he was giving Trevor a very stern warning. He kept saying that he better watch out, and that you aren't that kind of girl."

  "What? That doesn't even make sense. Why would he even care about what Trevor is or isn't doing with me?"

  I shrug even though I have a pretty good idea why, although Kyle would never admit it.

  "Do you really want to know what I think?" I ask timidly.

  Avery pushes one of my shoulders back playfully.

  "Um yeah? Of course I do, silly," she says dramatically, before rolling her eyes.

  "Well, I could be wrong, but I kind of got the impression tonight that he might be a little jealous of Trevor. Although, he'd never in a million years admit it, of course," I confess.

  "What do you mean? What exactly did he say?" she asks.

  "It's not anything in particular that he said. It was more about the way he was acting. I mean, he was all about Georgia and really into her, until you guys came outside. Then, it was like his eyes never left you the rest of the night. The transformation was pretty big, Avery. I mean, you had to notice how much attention he was paying to you and Trevor tonight, right?" I ask.

  She squints her eyes a little and cocks her head to the side, as if she is trying to recall. She shakes her head. "I honestly didn't pay that much attention to him. I think I was too busy trying to hate Georgia. I really wanted to hate her, Laila," she groans and shakes her head. "It's kind of impossible though, isn't it? She's really kind of great, isn't she?"

  I laugh, remembering having similar thoughts myself earlier in the evening. "Well, she is no Avery Brookes, but yeah, she's all right." I try to downplay how much I like her in order to reassure Avery, knowing how hard it would be for me if I had to see Sam with a girlfriend like Georgia.

  "So, you really think he might be jealous?" Avery squeezes her hands together excitedly, like a kid who is waiting for a surprise.

  "Even if I am right, and he is, does it really matter? You and Trevor are dating now, right?" I ask, trying to gauge her level of commitment to her new relationship.

  Her eyes suddenly light up. "We are. Isn't that awesome? I was truly shocked when he sort of declared that earlier to you guys before actually asking me. If I hadn't been so excited about it, I would have probably given him more trouble for just assuming that I would say yes." She sighs and shakes her head, but there is a smile on her face. "I probably still should. He sure is confident, isn't he?"

  We both laugh. "That is a very nice way of putting it, Aves," I say, while nodding emphatically.

  "Yeah, but who cares when you have lips like those?" she says dreamily.

  I look at her curiously while my stomach sinks.

  "Lays, we finally kissed," she squeals while bouncing up and down on my bed. I keep biting the inside of my cheek, wishing I didn't have to hear her describe how wonderful her first kiss with Trevor was.

  "And Oh. My. God. It was completely amazing. He is hands-down The. Best. Kisser. Ever. His lips are so . . . perfect and the way he moves them?" She sighs again and fans herself with her hand. I try to ignore the way her eyes are all sparkly and her voice is breathless. "I swear, Laila. Those green eyes are going to be the death of me. Every time he looks at me, I just want to collapse."

  You and me both, Aves. What is wrong with you Laila? I force the guilt that is creeping up the back of my throat, down with one hard swallow. As soon as she had started describing what it is like to kiss him, my body began reacting in strange ways. Can she tell that my face is all heated up, too?

  "We started out just kissing and it was like the second our lips touched, fireworks were exploding all over my body. We could not get enough of each other. I swear, Laila. He makes me feel like a pool of butter when he touches me. I can tell he feels the same way, too. I mean we had to pull ourselves away from each other, to catch our breath and just cool off. At one point, I seriously thought I was going to lose my virginity right there on your basement couch."

  I gasp. "Avery!" I am holding my hand over my mouth, as I stare at her in disbelief. That image is more than I can handle right now.

  "I'm not even exaggerating, Laila. I mean, don't get me wrong. I would never actually do that, I mean, not here and especially not on your couch, and definitely not so soon, but damn. He is just so crazy hot."

  Okay, this is all definitely not what I need to hear right now, especially when I am still trying to sort out all of my own feelings. I am amazed by how freely she can discuss with me her make-out session with Trevor. She doesn't seem in the least bit embarrassed by it. I was barely able to spit out the fact that Sam and I were alone in my room to her, without feeling like I wanted to crawl into a hole afterward, and I didn't even go into any detail.

  "Enough about me. Tell me about your big date. Where did you guys go?"

  Now, this kind of discussion is much more my speed. I describe the whole evening, leaving out the part about our heated make-out session in the pool, and the whole incident regarding my swimsuit top. I still can't get out of my head, the look that was on Trevor's face when he caught me without it on twice.

  "Wow. Who knew that Sam Woodson is such a hopeless romantic? You're so right. It really does sound like it was a date right out of the Bachelor. Nice job, Sammy boy. I'm sure he scored some major brownie points with you tonight. It kind of makes you wish he'd screw up more often, doesn't it?" she jokes with me.

  "I thought the same thing, but he actually didn't do this to make up for that double date thing last night. He said that he had the whole thing planned before that. I'm sure it made him really nervous when I was mad at him, though."

  "Yeah. I thought you were going to dump his ass, Lays. I've never seen you like that before. He was probably totally freaking out after going through so much trouble to plan the perfect date for you guys."

  "I still don't know how he knew that Kyle and my parents would be gone." I shake my head. "He was lucky. I mean, what would he have done if they would have decided to stay home?"

  "Yeah. That was a pretty risky move. Well, I think it's safe to say he has it bad for you, Lays. I mean, come on. Look at this necklace." She gently tugs at my pendant and rubs it against her fingertips.

  "It's gorgeous. And, it came in a little blue box."

  "How do you know that?" I ask her.

  "I've seen this one before and let me tell you, it is not cheap. Nothing at Tiffany's is. Trust me. My aunt takes me there every time I visit her in New York." She leans in to get a better look at it. "I think this might even be Elsa Perreti." Her eyes grow wide as she wh
istles.

  My heart sinks. "You don't think he spent too much, do you? He's in college, Avery. He doesn't have a lot of money to spend." A wave of guilt washes over me when I think about not only the cost of my necklace, but how much he must have spent on the whole private dinner, too.

  "I wouldn't worry about it. He wanted to show you just how serious he is about you. I think it's very sweet," she reassures me.

  It still bothers me, though. Sam doesn't even have his own car and I know he is saving up for one.

  "I wonder where he got the initial, though. That is definitely not Tiffany's."

  We talk a little more before turning out the lights again. Even after our marathon conversation, I find it difficult to settle my brain down enough to fall asleep. I'm too worried about the fact that Sam left earlier and hasn't returned. I have no idea where he is going to stay tonight. It's not like his parents still live down the street.

  I'm also worried about having to face Kyle again tomorrow. I don't know if he is going to tell my parents about Sam and me. If he does, how am I going to face them? It was hard enough having Kyle find out. I can't even imagine how my dad will react. I'm pretty sure Kyle's right. Dad would have killed Sam, had he been the one to walk in on us. Then again, if my parents were here, we probably wouldn't have been so careless in the first place.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Was . . . as in Past Tense?

  Saturday is a bit of a strange day. Avery and I sleep in, which I really needed after staying up so late worrying all night. When we finally make our way down for breakfast at ten thirty, we find the house empty. Kyle's car is gone and my parents still aren’t home. I have no idea if Sam ever came back in the middle of the night. The guest bed appears to be untouched, though. He is either really good at making the bed look exactly the way my mom makes it, or he never came home.

  After carefully covering the hole in my wall with a poster, Avery and I change into our swimming suits. We hang out by the pool lazily for most of the day. She tries really hard to keep my mind off of everything, but it still seems to consume me. I think the waiting is the hardest part. I feel like a kid in the principal's office, awaiting my punishment. I had texted Sam shortly after breakfast, and then called him, only to get his voicemail at lunchtime. The day sneaks by without any type of response from him.