When Layla Jones is invited to tour with up and coming rock band, Greta Van Fleet, she is ecstatic for the opportunity, especially since the band members just happen to be her childhood best friends. She has never known life without them, and she is...
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When I woke up, I expected it to be morning, but it was dark and cool in my room. I searched for my phone before I remembered Sam still had it, so I reached for the clock on the nightstand. It was 2:46 AM. I rolled over and tried to will myself back to sleep, but it wasn't working. Giving up, I pulled myself out of bed and pushed my feet into my favorite slippers with tiny smiley faces stitched all over them. When I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall, I realized the front porch light was on. As I walked to the front of the house, I could see the faint outline of someone on the porch swing. I grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around myself before quietly opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch. Jake swayed in the chipping white-painted porch swing, a slow burning cigar between his fingers. He looked out of focus in the darkness, somewhat grainy. I had the thought that it must have been a new moon, because it was eerily dark, but the stars were on brilliant display. I sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. He watched me silently, a plume of smoke billowing from his mouth and curving around his cheekbones.
"Hey... I couldn't sleep." I didn't move any closer for fear that he wouldn't want me to. He paused for a long time, and I thought about turning and going back inside.
"You wanna join me?" He motioned to the space next to him on the swing. I nodded and shuffled to the swing, sitting beside him. He chuckled which took me off guard.
"What?" I looked at him as he took a long drag of the cigar. It smelled woody and warm. He chuckled again and shook his head.
"Those stupid ass slippers..." He motioned to my feet, and I smiled.
"Don't start... I love these slippers." I protested, making his chuckle open up into a genuine laugh. I watched his smile, feeling like I've been pining for his face to be light like that again.
"Alright then." He shook his head, still smiling. I felt that antsy feeling again, and my conversation with Sam on the airplane was replaying over and over in my head. I wasn't sure what came over me, but I got up abruptly, dropping the blanket to the porch floor, and stood in front of him, holding my hand out for him to take. I couldn't wait until the camping trip, apparently.
"Come on." I nodded, and he drew his eyebrows together in confusion.
"What?"
"Come on, Jake." I shook my outstretched hand, motioning for him to take it. He stubbed his cigar out and cautiously took my hand, standing. I pulled him down the porch steps and around the house, towards the field that rested behind it.
"Layla, what are we doing?" He resisted me a little, but I kept pulling him further out into the field, trying not to trip over anything in the dark.
"Sam said I need to talk to you somewhere you can breathe, so here we are... somewhere you can breathe. Start talking." I stopped us when I felt like we were far enough from the house and let go of his hand, motioning to the space around us. The stars glittered above us, casting the softest silver shimmer over the field.
