LAYLA
“ARIEL!” I shout, lunging towards my best friend. She has broken into a fit of giggles, clutching her phone close to her chest. She took a picture of me while scratching my nose, but it looked like like I was picking my nose with all my might. God, so horrible.
Ariel takes my arms off her with ease. “Gold digger! Whatchu diggin’ up there?” she exclaims jokingly.
“Did you delete it?” I demand forcefully.
She shrugs, “Of course not.”
I sigh and roll my eyes at her. This happens at least once a day; she likes to experiment with being my own personal paparazzi. Ariel once told me that when she grew up, she’d be a professional photographer, slash rock star and I had no doubt that she had the potential.
Her blood red hair cascades down her back like a mysterious waterfall. She takes effort in making her hair look good, to her, hair creates your image. She first dyed her hair in sixth grade, which got her a suspension from school. Apparently, having blue hair was against school rules. Since when had Ariel ever followed school rules anyway? The girl changed her name to Ariel, for God’s sake. Her real name? Alexandra. Her favorite Disney princess? Ariel. The rest is easy to figure out.
“You suck,” I groan. “Remind me why we’re friends?”
“Because you wove me,” she coos in a baby voice, squishing my cheeks together.
“I'm under duress babe,” I protest. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even be an acquaintance of yours.”
Ariel scoffs, “Darling, don’t even try. You love me more than anything. I’m your main bitch." She says the last sentence in white girl accent she can imitate all too well.
“You’re right about that,” I smile. “Mom gave me an extra cupcake to give you.”
Her eyes bulge out of their sockets, “The Layla cupcake?!”
“Indeed,” I confirm, showing her the cupcake as proof in a little box.
My parents own a little bakery shop called Cherie , which meant darling in French. My mother’s cupcakes are known across town for their majestic taste and their rich stuffing. She named one of the best selling cupcakes after me.
And now another one was named after Dominic, the lovely addition in my family. He was born a year ago, disturbing the peace my parents and I had. I’m not a bad person, but I just—sometimes I wish he didn’t arrive. He takes over the space in mom and dad’s hearts. I just feel left out, I guess.
"Ooh, my precious, my precious," she says in the voice of Gollum from the Lord of the Rings. We both start helplessly laughing.
“Your parents are rad,” Ariel continues, fawning over the cupcake.
I smile while getting rid of the tear streaks of laughter still on my cheeks, “I know.”
A boy I can recognize from miles away with ease is approaching us. I nudge Ariel and whisper: “Code Blue.”
She automatically straightens up and leans against my locker, waiting for him to pass by. Code Blue is our way of communicating whenever he is close by.
Instead of walking past us, he stops and smiles at us with charisma. “Layla, Ariel,” he acknowledges, bright grey eyes glimmering, “Party at the haunted house this weekend, you in?”
Oh my God.
Calum Archer is inviting us to his party. While I feel like my insides are turning into mush, Ariel handles it calmly. This is why she’s the social one in this friendship.
“We’ll be there,” she says smoothly.
He grins, showing off his overly bright straight teeth, “Cool. See ya there, ladies.” His black hair looks beautiful, messed up on his head in a boyish way. The flannel shirt he’s wearing makes him look casual and does nothing but make him—actually, he just looks really hot.
The moment he is out of sight, I let out a small squeal.
“He wants us there! Oh my gosh,” I gush, trying to contain my excitement but obviously failing miserably.
The haunted house he spoke of scared me a little; no one ever really dares to go in there. Old myths revolve around it, like that it was haunted by the ghost of Marie Kell, who got killed in there by a ‘witch’.
Ariel winks, “You got to look good next weekend then, Lay.”
“Of course, if I want to impress Blue.”
My best friend’s eyes widen, “Code PHH,” she warns. Possibly Horrible Humans; it is Ariel and I’s nickname for the girls we detest the most at school.
Marnie, Jill and Kylie; also known as the mean girls of George Quentin high. Marnie and Jill used to complete our “quartet of friends” throughout freshman year. Then, they backstabbed both Ariel and I by telling our secrets in the school intercom to gain popularity. They succeeded.
“Hello,” greets Marnie, “Looking awful as always.”
Her beauty is undeniable. Natural blonde curls make her face look softer. Her eyes, a simple hazel, can kill when she’s mad. Her outfit renders me annoyed at her classy fashion sense.
“Likewise,” replies Ariel her blue eyes shooting daggers. “Who took the trash out? ‘Cause it’s polluting my visual system.”
Jill steps forward, “Alexandra, I wouldn’t start this. Honey, your hair makes you look like a failure of a human being.”
“I was trying to imitate you,” smirks Ari.
Her hand appears behind her back and I high five her discreetly. Handling these girls is a piece of cake.
“Huh. You’ve gotten even stupider throughout the years,” comments Marnie. “A waste of time and space, really.”
This hits Ariel’s soft spot. Her mom had her at sixteen and was tempted to give her up for adoption when she was a baby. Whenever they fought, Ari’s mom always brought up the fact that she ruined her life and future.
Anger flared in my body, “Marnie, I wouldn’t talk if I were you. Being someone who pushes people down and bitches around isn’t exactly something to be proud of.”
“Don’t care. Goodbye,” she says, walking away.
I squeeze Ari’s shoulder, “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I was this close,” she gestures with her hand to a small piece, “To punching her in the face.”
Patting Ariel’s head, I hear the school bell ring. “We have English, right?” I say, searching for my English book.
“You have English. I have gym. Volleyball,” Ariel says, rolling her eyes. "See ya." she leaves. I laugh at her frustration. I personally don't know what's wrong with her and volleyball, but let's just say that the ball has taken her out numerous times.
I gather my stuff and stand up to close my locker. A figure appears next to me, bringing a tender smile to my face. Aiden’s cheeks are tainted with a natural light pink, which adds to his handsomeness.
“Hey,” he says. “We have English class together.”
“I know,” I answer, starting to walk with him through the mess of people in the halls. The class right after lunch means rush hour.
Aiden is someone who makes me laugh. We all need that person in our lives, and I am so thankful he’s in mine. Our friendship is starting to blossom and become stronger.
“So,” he starts, “How’s your car doing?”
I shrug, “Pretty good, since you started fixing it. Now it looks like it might have hope in life, instead of being a failure.”
Aiden chuckles, “That’s good. Does it—I mean should I—”
“Yes, it still needs help. You should come by soon and try to fix it again,” I say, “Thanks, by the way. If you want, you could come by the shop today and I’ll pay you in cupcakes?”
“Who doesn’t like cupcakes?” he exclaims as we enter the class.
“Okay,” I say, taking my place beside Kelly, a bubbly girl.
He eagerly nods and heads towards his own spot. I see him smiling to himself and turn away, he definitely is a good kid with a good heart.
“Layla! Do you have an extra pencil?” asks Calum, sneaking looks at the teacher.
No, but I’ll give you what I have.
“Of course. Here you go,” I say, handing him the only pencil I have.
I don't know why I was so desperate to please. Wait, no. Layla chases no man. I am just being a good person, just a good person, just a good—
He smiles at me, “Thanks.” I momentarily forget how to breathe.
Thank you for being adorable, Calum, I think.
-
“MOOOOOOM! I’M HERE!” I shout, swinging the restaurant doors.
My mother grimaces while icing a cupcake, “I’m right here. No need to scream,” she glances at the baby monitor.
“Yeah, Lay, you’ll wake up the baby,” adds Dad, giving a customer a box of sweet cakes. “Have a nice day!” he says to the man.
I roll my eyes, “He won’t wake up. The only time he wakes up is in the middle of night, crying his eyes out.”
Dominic is sleeping in the next room, hopefully oblivious to my voice. He always was anyway, whenever I tried to shut him up by singing at night. He didn’t seem to like me very much either.
“Lay,” warns Mom, “I don’t like your tone.”
I walk towards the counter and put my school bag beside the flour. Bending down just a little, I kiss her cheek. “Sorry. How’s work?”
“Good,” she says.
“Guess what?” I say, my heart jumping in excitement to share my news. “Calum Archer invited me to his party!”
Mom knew about my crush on Calum, that’s how close we are, or used to be.
Cries appear in my ears, no, they’re rather like screeching. Mom says: “Great, honey,” before rushing to calm her son down.
I grumble a few words and wait for her to come back.
She wipes her hands on her apron, “He’s back asleep, thank God. Ally will be back soon from her break, would you take out the honey buns in the oven, please?”
Launching myself into work, I enjoy the smell of freshly baked goodies. I am graced with a talented cook for a Mom, what would I do without her? Dad leaves when Ally arrives, there are tear streaks on her chocolate colored cheeks.
“Ally, you okay?” I say, shaking sprinkles on the cupcakes in a box.
She nods, wiping her cheek. “I’m fine. Justin,” her boyfriend who was in the army, “is leaving again next week. I just wanted to spend at least two weeks with him.”
“You will, soon enough,” I pat her back. Justin and Ally had been engaged for almost two years now. Whenever they tried to make plans for their wedding, his work would always come in the way. He was almost never home with her.
Ally pulls her dark brown braids in a bun and puts on the hair net, “Yeah. Let’s get to work.”
“I’m already working; you’re the one who just came back, missy.”
“Shut up,” she hits me playfully with a cleaning cloth.
Mom leaves the cashier and comes in, giving me a bizarre look. “A boy is asking for you.”
The first person whom comes to mind is Calum. He sometimes passes by here, but he never knew my parents are the ones who own this place. I always hid under the counter out of panic. Besides, if I barely handled seeing him at school, how could I deal with seeing him outside of it?
“Describe him?”
“Tall. Handsome. Cute.”
I smooth my hair down and take deep breaths to calm down. Can it really be him?
“Hey,” says Aiden, leaning his elbows on the counter.
Needle? Meet the balloon of my happiness.
I force a smile and try to shoo my disappointment away. “Hi.”
“I’m here for the cupcakes,” he says, eyes on the different types and colors.
“Of course, did you make a choice yet?”
He nods, “I like the Layla one. You know, the one with strawberry and vanilla frosting and stuffed with—”
“Milk chocolate?” I finish, grinning. I feel a strange sense of pride that the first cupcake he wants to try is the one named after me. I open the cupcake window and take out a freshly made Layla cupcake.
“You gonna eat it here or to go?” I ask.
“Uh, to go, please.”
I put the cupcake in a plastic box and put a little bit of sprinkles on it. “Here you go,” I say, placing the box in his hands. Our fingers touch for the briefest moment and I pull away instantly.
“Thank you,” he says, taking a wallet out of his hands.
“Aiden!” I exclaim, “Dude, didn’t I say it was on me?”
“But—”
“No buts. Next time you help me, I’ll give you another cupcake, okay? It’ll be our deal.”
Aiden smiles once more, “Thanks Layla. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya,” I say.
When I turn around, Mom and Ally are observing me very carefully, with matching weird smiles on their faces.
“What?”
They wiggle their eyebrows, “Nothing."
-
written by yas, edited by sarah.