Clickbait

by Evelyn Dar

  Avery caressed her cheek, then her jawline and then her neck, leaving a trail of goose pimples along Laylah’s skin.

  Laylah’s breathing hitched as Avery worked her hand beneath Laylah’s collar until her palm was pressed flat against the top of Laylah’s chest. Skin to skin.

  “Does it normally beat this fast?” Avery asked.

  Laylah shook her head.

  “I don’t want you to hate me, Laylah.”

  “I don’t want to hate you.”

  “Good.” Avery licked her lips and grabbed Laylah’s collar. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

  Laylah trembled, and when Avery’s lips met hers, she moaned. Loudly. Laylah immediately pulled back, embarrassment lighting up her face. She tried to move away, but Avery held her collar tight.

  “I’m sorry,” Laylah said, unable to look Avery in the eye.

  Apparently without four shots of tequila, Laylah went from Don Juan DeMarco, to Don Juan ‘you’re embarrassing yourself.’

  “I um, haven’t don’t have a lot of…you know. And I–”

  Avery held a finger to Laylah’s lips. “Do you trust me?”

  Laylah stared deeper into Avery’s eyes than she thought possible and leaned forward. This time when Avery’s lips met hers, she managed not to moan. But Avery did. And as the kiss deepened, so did Laylah. She allowed herself to get lost in Avery. In the warmth of her mouth. And the softness of her tongue. In her cold roaming hands and whimpering cries. It wasn’t until Avery guided Laylah’s hand inside of her towel that Laylah came to her senses.

  She pulled back and Avery groaned softly.

  “I’m sorry,” Laylah whispered. “But, uh I –” She stopped, uncertain of how to say what she meant.

  “It’s okay,” Avery said breathlessly. “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  Avery stroked Laylah’s cheek. “Not hating me and doing what we were about to do…there’s still a pretty big gap between those things. I get it.” She smiled. “But no matter what happens or doesn’t happen, I’m glad I got the chance to know you.”

  Laylah nodded. “Me too.”

  After staring at Avery for an uncomfortably long time, Laylah shoved her hands in her pockets. “Um, I’ll let you get dressed.”

  “Okay,” Avery said.

  Laylah cleared her throat. “I’ll be down the hallway…I mean if you need me – uh, need something – I mean, if you need me to get something. For you.”

  Avery laughed for the first time in days. “Thanks.”

  Laylah floated out of the locker room and by the time she reached the gym, no amount of restraint could keep the goofy grin off her face.

  Stacy sat in a chair propped against the gym door, and as Laylah approached from behind, she caught him scrolling through a familiar Instagram feed.

  “Hey,” Laylah said, trying to look normal and not like she’d been making out for ten minutes. “She’ll be out soon.”

  Stacy abruptly pocketed his phone and stood. “Aight.” He squinted at her. “You hit it, didn’t you? I fucking knew it.”

  Laylah’s eyes widened. “What? No.”

  “Yo, it’s cool. Kendrick been told me you liked girls.”

  Laylah coughed, and Stacy slapped her on the back.

  “You ain’t gotta trip,” Stacy said. “All that shit’s cool with me. It’s 2020, girl.”

  Laylah looked away, her cheeks burning. “Uh, thanks?”

  “I’m for real. Ain’t nothing wrong with it,” Stacy said. “You don’t have to be ashamed.”

  “I know,” Laylah said. “And I’m not ashamed. It’s just – I’ve never labeled myself.”

  “Why not?” Stacy asked.

  “At first it was because I wasn’t sure,” Laylah admitted. “But then…” She sighed. “I don’t know, it just felt safer not to, you know? Like, if I never decided, then I wouldn’t have to do anything about it.” She shoved her hands in her pocket. Avery’s kiss must have really done a number on her if she was confiding in Stacy.

  She shook her head. “Forget it.”

  “Nah, I feel what you saying.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s like wanting something so bad, but when you get it, it’s like crazy scary. Cause what if you fuck it up? And that would be worse than never having it at all. You feel me?”

  “Yeah, I think I do.” She playfully punched him on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you were such a deep thinker.”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Nah, not really.”

  “I don’t know…Maddy seems to think so.”

  Stacy’s smile faded. “Yo, uh…you think she likes me for real or she just scared of me?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  Stacy snorted. “You think she’s gonna tell me the truth?”

  “Yes, I do,” Laylah said. “Maddy may be a lot of things, but she’s not a liar.”

  Stacy looked thoughtful, and after a few seconds, he rubbed his red eyes. “Damn, I can’t be thinking this hard on no sleep. Hey, you still got some of that stuff you slipped your girl at the party? I need to knock out for real.”

  Laylah glanced behind her, then whispered, “No, and don’t ask me again.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” Laylah hissed.

  Stacy rolled his eyes. “Because why not?”

  “Because Avery doesn’t know I drugged her, okay?”

  Stacy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man.”

  A few minutes later, Stacy nudged Laylah as Avery strode into the gym with a bundle of clothes under her arm. In loose-fitting sweats, and without a trace of makeup, the girl standing in front of Laylah looked like a completely different creature, and this stunning iteration of Avery captivated Laylah.

  “Hey,” Laylah said, suddenly feeling awkward.

  “Hey,” Avery said, avoiding Laylah’s gaze. She held out her hand. “Blindfold?”

  Laylah frowned, but handed Avery the blindfold.

  Avery tied it on herself and held out her arm.

  Stacy shot Laylah a quizzical look.

  Laylah shrugged and took Avery’s arm, but as they walked, she noticed a change in Avery’s body language. On the way to the gym, Avery had held Laylah’s upper and lower arm snugly against her body, but now there was a noticeable distance between them.

  Was the kiss the reason? Was Laylah a bad kisser? Or maybe Avery was angry Laylah had rebuffed her attempts to go further? By the time they returned to the basement, Laylah was near panic.

  She led Avery into the champagne room and was about to step inside when Stacy tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Team meeting.”

  “Seriously?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  Laylah glanced at Avery but was met with her back. She sighed and closed the door.

  ****

  The moment the door closed; Avery pulled down her damp blindfold and sniffled. She hadn’t intended on eavesdropping, but Laylah and Stacy had been so preoccupied they hadn’t heard her approach. She was about to make her presence known when the conversation shifted to Laylah’s sexuality.

  Avery’s ears perked up, and she hid behind the open gym door, hoping to learn more about Laylah. And boy, did she ever.

  A fresh tear fell, and she angrily wiped it away. How could she have been so stupid? To think Laylah actually cared for her? Not that Avery could blame Laylah after what Teddy had done, but why pretend? Why torture Avery like this? She ripped the blindfold from her neck and threw it across the room.

  Of course, Laylah didn’t care. She was pretending. Just like Teddy and Joanna. And Siobhan and Jessie. Laylah was no different from everyone else in Avery’s life.

  She clenched her jaw. Well, Laylah wasn’t the only one who could pretend. Avery was about to introduce her to the queen of pretending.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Laylah’s head snapped up, and she checked her phone. 10 p.m. She glanced around blearily, hoping Reggie hadn’t noticed her nodding
off, then smirked at her unfounded fears.

  Reggie was passed out in the VIP booth while Goon #1 and #2 dozed on an extra-large couch. Maddy slept on the hot-pink, lip-shaped sofa next to a snoring Kendrick, and Stacy…Laylah frowned and scanned the basement. Stacy was MIA, as was Reggie’s right-hand man, Juice.

  Reggie was far from an evil genius, but he wasn’t dumb, and Laylah guessed Stacy and Juice were somewhere on guard duty.

  Laylah stood and stretched carefully, lest she trigger a painful back spasm. After double-checking that Reggie was still asleep, she crossed the basement and with her stomach in knots, opened the door to the champagne room.

  Avery was sitting on the chaise lounge, wide awake, and immediately patted the space beside her. Laylah sat and awkwardly folded her hands in her lap.

  “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

  “Not a wink.” Avery laid her head on Laylah’s shoulder. “Is this okay?”

  “It’s fine,” Laylah replied, wondering if she’d simply imagined Avery’s earlier aloofness.

  She decided to take a chance and wrapped her arm around Avery. Avery rested her head in the crook of Laylah’s neck and sighed contentedly.

  Laylah closed her eyes, but a few minutes later, Avery began to stir. Laylah dropped her arm, but Avery didn’t move away. In fact, she moved closer, and the heat in Laylah’s belly moved lower.

  “If I don’t get some sleep soon,” Avery said, “I might go crazy.” She frowned. “Well, crazier.”

  “You’re not crazy.”

  “Not when I’m with you,” Avery whispered.

  Laylah’s neck burned, and her goofy grin returned.

  “But if I don’t get some sleep,” Avery continued. “I will be.” She stood and hugged herself.

  Laylah jumped up, the urge to do something – anything, surging through her. “Maybe I can find a pillow or a few blankets? There must be a nurse’s office upstairs somewhere.”

  “It’s not that,” Avery said.

  Laylah frowned. “What then?”

  “It’s”–Avery shook her head–“never mind. It’s stupid.”

  “Hey.” Laylah stepped toward Avery. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m on your side, remember?”

  For a fraction of a second Laylah swore Avery sneered, but she spun around so quickly, Laylah couldn’t be sure.

  “Avery?”

  “You know I’m adopted, right?” Avery shook her head. “What am I saying, everyone knows I’m adopted. That campaign was one of Teddy’s crowning achievements.” She clenched her fists. “Did you know I was left at a fire station?”

  Laylah recalled the political ads that played ad-nauseum leading up to the election. In one, Teddy actually stood in front of a fire station surrounded by a group of young children.

  Laylah nodded.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Avery said. “I forgot about the fire station ad. Super classy, Teddy.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “The only thing I had on was a diaper. No clothes. Not even a blanket.” She smiled bitterly. “Thank God, it wasn’t winter.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, someone tucked a rubber, heart-shaped key chain inside my diaper. It’s the only thing I’ve ever had of my biological parents, or whoever gave me up.”

  Avery leaned forward, and Laylah opened her arms.

  “I’ve never slept a night without it.” Tears spilled down Avery’s cheeks.

  Laylah held her tightly, but after several minutes, Avery’s crying hadn’t subsided.

  “Where is it?” Laylah asked.

  Avery peeled herself away from Laylah and wiped her face. “What?”

  “The heart,” Laylah said, her resolve growing.

  “Laylah, you can’t.”

  “Tell me,” Laylah insisted.

  Avery stared at her intensely. “It’s in my bedroom. On my nightstand…but you’ll get caught.”

  Laylah frowned.

  “Unless…” Avery gasped.

  “Unless what?”

  Avery chewed her bottom lip and began pacing. “It’s Friday night and Teddy always spends Friday nights in his downtown office. It’s where he dictates to Kaleigh.”

  “Okay,” Laylah said, not understanding.

  “He won’t be home tonight,” Avery explained.

  “What about your mother?”

  This time Avery definitely sneered. “Joanna only cares about two things…getting drunk and staying drunk. A semi-truck could drive through the living room and she wouldn’t notice.”

  “Oh,” Laylah said, her resolve shriveling.

  “I won’t ask you to do this. It’s too risky. Not to mention what Reggie will do if he finds out.” Avery sat on the lounge, her eyes shimmering.

  Laylah sat beside her, and they fell into a silence. It wasn’t tense, exactly – but it wasn’t peaceful either.

  “This is a really bad idea,” Laylah said.

  “I know,” Avery whispered.

  “I’ll get caught,” Laylah said. “If not by the police, then by Reggie.”

  “You’re right,” Avery said. “You shouldn’t do it.”

  “No.” Laylah agreed. “I shouldn’t.”

  ++++

  “Ask Reggie, if you don’t believe me.” Laylah crossed her arms. “But when he gets pissed you woke him up, remember it was your idea, not mine.”

  Juice eyed her; indecision written on his normally blank face. Laylah was right. Stacy and Juice had been commandeered as lookouts and were posted next to the red door. They shared a blunt and a bottle of Hennessey – protection against the cold.

  Stacy leaned back in his chair as if he couldn’t care less, but his eyes were fixated on them. If Juice didn’t buy her excuse, he’d wake Reggie and then, well, who knows what that psychopath would do.

  After what felt like years, Juice finally spoke. “Aight.”

  Laylah let out a silent breath and headed for the Audi. She fished Maddy’s keys out of her pocket, but when she reached for the door, a large hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

  Juice stood before her, his hand reaching inside his jacket.

  She glanced at Stacy who’d jumped up; his own hand on his waistband.

  Laylah squeezed her eyes shut and prayed her death would be quick and relatively painless. When the expected pain didn’t hit her, she opened her eyes. Juice held a crumpled ten-dollar bill in his hand.

  “Can you bring me two of them cheesy breads from Little Caesar’s?”

  Laylah nodded vigorously, unable to speak. She pocketed the ten and made brief eye contact with Stacy, who pulled his shaking hand from under his jacket. Laylah nodded and climbed into the car.

  ++++

  Laylah pulled into the Bradley’s circular driveway, parked behind a candy-apple red range rover, and craned her neck up.

  Jesus.

  The Bradley mini-mansion made their old Buckhead house – which was well over 3,000 sq. ft – look like a double-wide trailer. The house was dark, save for a light shining from a second-floor window, and as Laylah climbed the wide front steps, she wondered if Avery’s brazen plan was completely insane.

  Laylah assumed the plan would involve sneaking around while wearing black and using a grappling hook for – well, something. Instead, Avery had instructed Laylah to walk up to the front door and ring the bell.

  Laylah peered at the doorbell that clearly doubled as a camera, pressed the button and waited. It was below freezing, but she felt sweat accumulating under her arms. What if Avery was wrong? What if Joanna recognized Laylah as the daughter of the woman her husband had single-handedly destroyed? What then?

  Two rings later, the door finally opened.

  Joanna had changed little from the stumbling drunk woman Laylah remembered from her father’s funeral. Same thin frame. Same short dress. She held a glass tumbler filled with light brown liquid and stared dispassionately at Laylah.

  At least Laylah assumed Joanna was staring at her. Her 11 p.m. sunglasses made it impossible to tell, and it soon became clear Laylah wo
uld have to be the first to speak.

  “Joanna?” Laylah said in an unnaturally high pitch. “It’s me, Chelsea.”

  Joanna’s face remained blank.

  Laylah continued. “I was here last weekend with Avery and Siobhan. We collabed on that Euphoria makeup tutorial for my YouTube channel. Remember?”

  Joanna smiled. “Yes, of course I remember you, Celeste.”

  “Chelsea,” Laylah said.

  “That’s what I said.” Joanna took a sip and staggered backward.

  Laylah’s instincts kicked in and she grabbed Joanna’s arm, halting her fall.

  Joanna regained her balance and chuckled, not the least bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry, darling, but Avery’s not home. She’s…she’s uh…” She furrowed her brow.

  Avery had warned her Joanna would likely be high and drunk, but Laylah hadn’t anticipated this level of detachment.

  “I know it’s not the best time,” Laylah said. “But I left my bag here last weekend and I wouldn’t normally care but it has my English report in it.”

  Joanna stared.

  “It’s due tomorrow.”

  “Mmm.” Joanna turned around. “Don’t forget to shut the door behind you, darling. It’s so frigid out.”

  Taking that as an invitation, Laylah trailed Joanna into a foyer big enough to house a small bus. She followed the teetering woman up the ballroom staircase until Joanna took an abrupt left and entered a room with a door so opulent it wouldn’t have been out of place on a hundred-year-old cathedral.

  From the doorway, Laylah peered inside. The dimly lit room could have doubled as one of those fancy ‘ladies sitting rooms’ if not for the full bar and the wall-mounted sixty-inch flat screen.

  Joanna topped off her drink, then collapsed on a sofa straight from the set of Downtown Abby and picked up the remote.

  “Guess the tour’s over,” Laylah muttered. Thankfully, Avery had given Laylah directions to her bedroom, and she continued to the third floor.

  Laylah stepped inside Avery’s bedroom and a pang of jealousy followed. The Carters’ entire apartment could comfortably fit inside Avery’s bedroom.

  Laylah’s feelings for Avery were complicated, but as she took in the oversized bay windows, the pristine mahogany wood floors and the crown-molded, vaulted ceiling, that old familiar resentment began to surface.