Nat lives on the north side, which technically is a county, however most people assumed it was apart of the city because of all the black people that resided there. How Beck had made it there on his own was beyond me, but by the time I arrive it's a small gathering already with Beck, Nat, and four other friends I was comfortable with.
My phone buzzes and I realize I'm trapped under Nat and Beck, all of us having fallen asleep at some point, me most likely being the first, since I was at the bottom of the pile. My phone buzzes again and I maneuver my hand into my pocket, fishing it out.
"Hello?" My voice croaks from disuse and I clear it, "Layne?"
"Where are you?" her voice sounds odd, yet familiar.
"I'm at Nat's. Is everything alright? What's wrong?" my heart starts to slam in my chest. I check the time. Almost five in the morning. Shit. School
"I need you to come over," she says, her voice foreign to me, "Baby, please."
"Okay," I sit up, disturbing the teens on top of me. I'm greeted with groans and bitching as everyone begins to stir.
"KJ, what gives?" Beck, who'd been directly on top of on, complains, "You titties were my pillow."
"I have to go," I grab my bag, "Do you need a ride home? School starts in like two hours."
"Yeah," he reaches over and shakes Nat, "Nat? Scary- mom?"
"Fuck off," is the tired response we receive. I free myself from the tangle of bodies and head to my truck, Beck in tow.
"Something wrong?" he questions. I shake my head, "I don't know yet."
I drop him at his apartment, "I'd take the bus to school. I might be late to school."
"I can wait until you're done," he offers and I shake my head, "No, go to school."
He rolls his eyes, "Yes, Mother."
The sun is just over the horizon by the time I reach Layne's house. Fuck! Swerve to avoid murdering my girlfriend, who'd been compelled to lay in the middle of the road, her black hoodie matching the tarmac. Miraculously, I'm able to come to a controlled stop, before hopping out and running back to her.
"Layne what the shit!?" I pull her off the ground, her body limp in my arms.
"Put me back," she groans, "I wanna die."
I haul her over my shoulders and carry her to my truck, "Not while you're dating me."
I shove her into the passenger seat and finish the drive to her house. When I slow down she grabs my arm, "Please don't."
"What? You live here?" I'm slightly confused as to why she doesn't want me to return her to her house. Where she lives.
I realize she's not listening. Her gaze is frozen on a suited man rolling out what could be a garbage bag on a stretcher, only we both know it's not. I speed past the house, continuing on our street until it ends.
"Left of right?" I question.
"Left," she responds. We continue this sort of game, her giving me directions and me faithfully following them, until we're out the city, speeding down a country road.
"Left," she tells me and I whip off the road onto a overgrown, dirt road with trees on either side. I don't know where we're going, and can only hope she does. The road winds upward until we're deposited into a large field with a white house, trimmed in blue, perched at the top of the hill. I approach it until she tells me to park.
"Get out," she tells me and I oblige, exiting the car and then opening her door for her. "Take my hand."
I do. She leads me up the steps of the house and produces a key to get in, and we enter. She pulls me up the stairs and into a room, both new and familiar, pictures of buildings only on the ceiling as opposed to the walls.
She collapses onto the bed, pulling me with her. I land on top of her, leaning off slightly as to not crush her.
"Fuck me," she whispers.
"Are you sure about that?" I question her, for the first time that day.
She gives me a hard look, "You're job isn't to ask questions today, KJ. Fuck me."
And this time I do.
***
When we're done, I let Layne lay in my arms until her breathing slows and she's asleep. I slowly release her, dressing and checking the time. It's just hitting ten, although I feel that drive was longer.
I show myself around the house. The whole house is a simple combination of white walls and blue trimmed furniture, a splash of yellow here and there. It's both so pristine and comfortable, I want to touch nothing and want to touch everything. I make my way into the living room, a fireplace on one end, lined with family pictures of the Sinclairs.
"KJ," I turn and see Dil in the threshold, "I should've figured."
"I'm sorry," I don't really know why I'm apologizing, but I feel like I owe him one whether that be for stealing his sister or breaking into his old house or almost hitting her with my truck.
"It's fine. The house probably wasn't the best place for her to be anyway. I just never thought she'd come back here."
I pick up a picture of Layne, Ms. Cassie, and a bald man with a goatee and freckles, "This Layne's dad right?"
"Yeah, that's my Uncle," he picks up another picture, that appears to have the same man in it, only with hair, "And this is my dad. They were twins. I used to pretend that Uncle was my real dad. The whole half black thing got in the way though."
"What does that mean?" I put the picture down and look at him.
"I mean, I know he loved me, but this is rural Missouri, KJ. Not everybody wanted to welcome little old Indigo into the world."
I raise an eyebrow at the usage of the color. "Indigo? That whole saying that a red bird and a blue bird shouldn't mix? Well that was me: Odd ball out, sin against God, Indigo."
"I bet the gay thing didn't help," I murmur and he lets out a dry laugh, "No, KJ. No the gay thing didn't help."
"So.... What happened to them? You guys dads?" I ask.
"My dad, shit I don't know.... I came out at thirteen, he beat me unconscious and when I came through I was living with Aunt Cassie," he pauses, "Layne's dad killed himself when she was ten. He fought a terrible battle with depression."
"Damn..."
We stand there awkwardly and I check the time, "I gotta go."
"Thanks for watching out for her," Dil says, "I don't know what we're gonna do now."
I pat his shoulder, awkwardly, "You'll be alright."
***
The drive to school is quiet and unnerving, the somber morning weighing heavy on me.
"Where's your girlfriend?" Lori teases me as some as I sit down.
"Fuck off," I reply, "I'm not in the mood."
Class starts and the phone rings, "Parker! Did you go to home school today?" Graves questions.
I shake my head, "I was busy."
She relays the information to phone and I know to expect a detention when I do return. Graves hands out our recipes and I pick a spot away from everyone in the kitchen.
"Where's Layne?" Wren , "What's wrong?"
"What makes you think something is wrong?" I pull my arm away from her.
"Because I know her. And I know you. Why weren't you at school?" she presses.
"Because I was having Bop It! style sex with my girlfriend," I snark. She gives me a confused look and I elaborate, "You know-- Kiss it! Bite it! Lick it! Fuck it! It was like a sexual game of Simon Says."
"You and Layne had sex?" she questions.
"Of course we have sex we're...." I almost say 'in love' but instead go for, "... dating."
"Like a lot?" she continues to inquire into my sex life, "Is it good?"
Hell yeah. "Mind your business," I end the conversation. Never kiss and tell, KJ. That's sloppy. "What? Are you jealous or something?"
Her face heats and a barrage of emotions flash across her face, her wide-eyed look of curiosity is replaced with a cold look of indifference."I don't know it that's hot or just sad," she replies, "Obviously something is going on with her so why would you do that?" she spits out the word, like the act is so And do it like that?"
"Because her mom's dead and she asked," I finally let it out, "There. That's why she's not at school."
"I'm sor--"
"Save it," I walk away from her, not in the mood to talk anymore. I finish my lab quietly, not in the mood to my usual jovial self. My thoughts stay on Layne, Dil, and especially Ms. Cassie, who I'd just eaten dinner with less than two days ago. I knew she was sick, yet her death still seemed sudden. It seemed unfair that the woman who'd just made me dinner Sunday died by Tuesday. I didn't like it.
Aside from Wren, nobody bothers to try and reach out to me. I sulk at my station, finish my lab, and wait for class to end.
As soon as it's over, I call Layne. Straight to voicemail.
Habitually I drive to work, only realizing I don't work there as I pull into the lot. My stomach growls, and I'm reminded of my shaky at best eating habits of late. I head in and Chess' head snaps up at the sight of me, "Parker. You know you're still on probation, right?"
"Of course. You're still mad at me. How could I forget?" I tease, "Alas, I don't want work. I want mediocre at best food."
"Ooo," he feigns hurt, "Hitting me where it hurts."
I tell him my order and take a seat at the bar. "Hey," I look over at the piece of shit bold enough to sit with me. Harrison.
"Hey," I nod, taking a sip of my pina colada, "Where's the other group of attached to you?"
He chuckles, "Friends would've sufficed. And busy. Aren't you normally behind the counter?"
"Not when I'm temporarily fired," I reply.
"Fired? So you've got free time now yeah?" he says.
"Yeah, too much of it."
"Free enough for a date?" he asks, sheepishly. Dude what?
"I mean yeah, technically," I reply, "Do you mind if I bring my girlfriend?"
His face turns hot, "Oh... I didn't know--"
"That I was gay as shit? Yeah, me neither," I laugh, "It's shocking I know."
"Here," Chess hands me a bag of tacos and as I reach for my wallet to pay him, he holds up a hand, "Not needed, kid. Tell Layne I said 'hi'."
***
When I get to the Sinclair's, I let myself in, the door unlocked but not a jar as normal. The house seems dark and drab, even though I've been over here at night before. Absent of the smells of food, it just smells like... every other house. Without Ms. Cassie, it might as well be every other house.
"Layne?" I call cautiously into the house. There's no response. I notice faint light on in the kitchen and find her there, blankly staring at an old binder. I cut on the lights, her tear stained cheeks catching the light.
"Hey," she looks at me, as if just seeing me. I don't hesitate to grab a tissue and dry her face. She silently allows me to, still not saying a word.
I say, "I brought you tacos."
I set the bag down and hand her one. She eats it wordlessly, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks once more.
"Are you really not going to talk to me?" I question, the silence weighing heavily on me, "What are you thinking about?"
"I didn't think you would come back," she says finally, her voice delicate.
"Why---?"
"I keep thinking nobody's coming back," she clarifies, "So far, I've been right. Mom. Dad. When I woke up and you were gone, it scared the shit out of me. If you and Dil leave me it's over."
I grab her hand forcing her to look at me, "I'm not going anywhere. Except maybe school," I end with a signature smirk and she smiles in response, "Good. I like when you smile," I kiss her.
"It's hard not to smile when I look at you. You're just so funny looking," she jabs back at me, laughing at her own joke.
"Hahaha so fucking funny," I reply, "Me and my tacos do not have to stand for this."
"KJ, that's why you're sitting," Dil comes in at that moment, snatching a taco for himself and grabbing a seat.
We continue to joke around with each other until about midnight, when I realize I'm still a student with responsibilities to fulfill, like attending class in general.
Layne walks me to the door, "I don't know if you'll wanna come..." she slides me an envelope, "Here."
"Of course I'll come," I reply, "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."