I sat there on Lisa’s bed, gaping at her. I couldn’t believe she was comparing The Live-Aid Incident to my relationship with Trip. “Are you serious? This is nothing like that!”
Lisa sat back down. “Layla, yes, it is. I know you. I know you’re not just hanging around with Trip because you enjoy his friendship so damn much. You’re hoping that if you just hang in there long enough, eventually he’ll come around. I’m telling you, when it finally hits you that you’re caught in The Friend Zone... you’re going to lose it. You’re going to implode.”
Talk about going for the jugular.
“Who the HELL do you think you are?” I seethed at her, before jolting off the bed, cutting her off before she could say another word. “What kind of a thing is that to say to me? WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU GET OFF?”
Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but I stormed out of her room before she could see the tears starting to gather at my eyes. I stomped home, went right up to my bedroom and put my stereo on full blast until my father, one floor below me, started banging on the ceiling to turn it down.
Chapter 16
HOME ALONE
I didn’t spend too many Saturday nights at home. I’d originally had tentative plans to attend the homecoming dance that night, but after my fight with Lisa, I wasn’t feeling up to it.
By eight o’clock, Dad had already left the house, taking Bruce to pick up his date on their way to the school. He’d come into my room before leaving, supposedly to check on me, but more to try and convince me to go to the dance. I briefly explained that Lisa and I had gotten in a stupid argument, but I assured him that I was fine and that he shouldn’t cancel poker night just because I was being a big mope. That made him smile before he kissed me and headed out the door.
It was pretty cool to have the house all to myself on a Saturday night. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself, however.
I considered snooping around my father’s closet, but with The Live-Aid memory fresh in my mind, I didn’t have the strength to confront any of my mother’s belongings.
I thought about reading a book, but I’d already read everything in the house. It was early enough that I could have hit the Barnes and Noble at the mall before closing, but Dad had taken the car. Even if Lisa and I weren’t fighting, I couldn’t have asked her to drive me. There was no way she would have missed out on one of the most important nights of our senior year of high school just to cart my ass to the mall.
I’d finally resigned myself to the prospect of watching the movie I’d liberated from work weeks before. Lisa had begged me to bring it home for her but we hadn’t been able to coordinate a two-hour block of time to be in the same room together to watch it. I decided that I’d made every effort to try and find something else to do and screw her anyway I’m not waiting.
I made a huge bowl of popcorn slathered with extra butter and salt, twisted my hair into a knot on my head, threw on some sweats and hit the sofa.
If anyone else had been in the room, I would have probably spent my time watching Pretty Woman by completely tearing it to shreds for being a great, big, steaming pile of crap.
But by myself, I hadn’t realized how mesmerized I’d been by the flipping movie until I was suddenly startled by a tapping noise outside. It had stopped raining hours before and it was still too early for Dad or Bruce to be home, and besides, I would have heard the car pulling into the driveway and the rattle of the garage door opening.
I grabbed the remote and hit mute so I could better listen. Sitting there in the silence of my empty house was pretty spooky. I could actually hear the sound of my own breathing and was acutely aware of my thumping heartbeat.
I sat there for no more than a few seconds, when bam! I heard it again!
That was all the excuse I needed to bolt up the stairs and lock myself in the relative safety of my dark room. I tried peeking outside just as the pattering sound hit again...
...and could just make out the dark, outlined figure of Trip throwing pebbles at Bruce’s window.
I threw open my window and yelled, “You dick! You just scared the hell out of me!”
Trip’s focus shifted from Bruce’s room to mine. “Hey there, Lay-Lay. Whatcha doin’?”
I clicked on my nightstand lamp. “What am I doing? I’m trying not to have a heart attack! What are you doing?”
Trip dropped the handful of pebbles he was still holding into the shrubs and wiped his hands off on his pants. “Hey, did I guess the wrong window? I thought that one was your room.”
“Hey Psycho,” I jeered, “Instead of throwing boulders at my house, why didn’t you just knock on the front door like a normal human?”
That made a wide grin spread across his face before he answered, “Now what would be the fun in that?”
I rolled my eyes and laughed at him. My sight was better adjusting to the dark and I could see that Trip was wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a navy blue sweater. He looked, as usual, incredibly handsome.