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20 - Reflections

20 - Reflections

Maya Sumedh

 “So.”

 Lay shut the door behind us as we walked into my room. I glanced at her as she walked around me and then stood facing me, hands on her hips. I looked her over.

 “Are you....are you wearing Sam’s clothes?”

 Her mouth opened and closed and then her face tinted pink.

 “Well, I hadn’t packed for last night and he offered,” she mumbled, looking down and hugging her elbows.

 I gaped at her.

 “He doesn’t even offer me his clothes, Lay. Ooft, he so likes you.”

 She blushed.

 “Stop it.”

 As I started to speak again she held up a finger and cut me off.

 “Wait. Wait. I just found you in Luke’s bed. And your top is crumpled in a very suspicious way, and he was shirtless, and please don’t tell me you –”

 Now it was my turn to blush.

 “Of course not! Layla!”

 She grinned at me.

 “So you guys just...slept together? In the innocent sense?”

 A smirk slipped onto my face as I walked towards my bathroom.

 “Well...not completely innocent.”

 An identical leer appeared on her face as well.

 “Of course not, Maya, of course not.”

 We stood in the bathroom together – I slipped out my contacts and put on my glasses and we brushed our teeth quickly.

 “What’s the time, Lay?” I asked through a foamy mouthful of Colgate.

 “Nine,” she mumbled back, wrinkling her nose so her glasses wobbled.

 I leaned down to spit.

 “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

 She mumbled no and knocked my head out of the way as she too leaned next to me.

 I grinned at her in the mirror.

 “So we can have fun and do girly things then?”

 She raised her eyebrow at me.

 “You don’t want to have fun with the new boyfriend?”

 “The new boyfriend has school today,” I informed her, putting my toothbrush back. She shook her head, hair bouncing like a Head and Shoulders ad with the movement.

 “Nope. Happy Independence Day, stupid.”

 I gaped at her.

 “It’s the fifteenth of August? Already?”

 She rolled her eyes, walking out of the bathroom.

 “Good morning.”

 I followed her out hurriedly, twisting my hair up.

 “Seriously? It’s the fifteenth?”

 She turned, halfway to the closet, and raised an eyebrow at me.