“I have a confession to make.”
Layla’s words broke the silence of the four girls sitting in a small booth at McKinney’s pub. All around them, other diners chatted and gossiped, glasses and flatware clinked while Layla and her friends sat down to their usual Saturday morning breakfast. She did not know what they expected, but by the way Autumn’s fork stopped just in front of her mouth and how Mollie and Sayo pulled their attention away from their phones, Layla knew her friends likely believed earth-shattering news was about to be delivered.
“Well?” her best friend, Mollie, said when Layla swallowed back the cotton-feeling in her throat but still did not speak. She wanted to tell them what a stupid, misguided thing she’d done two days ago, but her friends looked mildly smug, as if they knew she’d been naked with that Donovan Demon. She couldn’t do it.
“Um,” think idiot, think quick. “Um, I have never liked Walter. Like, at all. Not even a little. I don’t even think he’s remotely doable.”
“Duh.” Mollie’s shoulders fell and she waved her hand, mimicking the head shake and eye roll Autumn and Sayo gave her at the declaration. Back to their plates, her friends stopped watching her as though disappointed that her news hadn’t been juicer. “You wanna tell us why you’ve wasted six months with him then?” Layla caught the look Autumn exchanged with Sayo as she spoke.
These bitches know. They freakin know. “I smoked a blunt the night before last year’s book sale. He caught me. I didn’t want my dad finding out.” It had been a rash, stupid decision. But her father, Sean Mullens, was the University’s rugby coach and her mother, Meara, was an orthopedic surgeon at Cavanagh Memorial. People knew them. They knew them well. Her parents donated every year to St. Michael’s Christmas fund. They sent money to develop clean drinking water in Africa. They attended Mass almost every Sunday. They still held hands and kissed in public and were well liked by pretty much everyone. Layla had huge shadows to walk in. Sean and Meara Mullens would definitely not been okay with Layla out on her father’s pitch smoking a blunt. That night when she got caught, she had to think quickly, and with the way Walter smiled at her, she fell back on relying on her looks, something she hated doing but had worked in the past. She felt awful about it, but it had kept her secret—at a cost.
She could see the brimming tide in her friends’ expression. She knew them well and by those calculating, narrow eyes and the way they glanced across the table at each other, Layla anticipated the storm of questions that surfaced between their paused breaths. “What” When the questions did come, they were meddling and all at once.
“Where’d you get a blunt?”
“Why on the pitch?”
“Why the hell didn’t you share?”
“Your dad would have killed you.”
“But not her mom. God, that woman is a badass.”
A tilt of her head and her friends sat back, but their smirks were infuriating, Mollie and Sayo’s at least. Autumn, however scowled at Layla like she’d wounded her deeply.
“Seriously, why didn’t you share?”
“What I’m saying,” Layla said, ignoring Autumn, “is that it’s finally over.”
“When did this realization happen?” Sayo’s question was not unexpected and Layla found it funny that she asked “when” and not “why”. Walter was an uptight know-it-all who hadn’t bothered to get to know her friends. The Why of the break up was obvious and expected.
“It was a couple of days ago.”
Layla’s glass shook, dribbled water down the side when Mollie slapped her hand at the table surface in her surprise. “A couple of days? And you’re just telling us now? You’re just now telling me?”
“Hey!” Mollie waved off Autumn’s protest and nudged Layla with an elbow. “I’m your ride or die girl, Layla. What the hell?”
A quick snort and Layla glanced at her best friend, hoping her insulted glare would disappear. “You have been with Vaughn every waking moment you’re not in class. Autumn has been hitting the ice cream pints and listening to her Just Shoot Me music since Declan left for Ireland and Sayo—” Layla stopped talking when she caught Sayo’s frown. They hadn’t seen much of their beautiful Japanese friend that semester. Her eight year old cousin’s cancer had returned and this time the prognosis wasn’t hopeful. “Anyway,” Layla continued, dismissing her small slip, “all of you have been busy.”
“Honey, we’re never too busy for each other. You know that.” Autumn’s smile was warm and Layla appreciated how the redhead touched her arm to emphasize that she was being sincere.