“LAYLA! OH MY GOD!”
I held the receiver away from my ear, cursing first into my pillow, then next at Lisa. “Christ, Lis! Why are you yelling?”
Lisa didn’t even acknowledge my blasting head and proceeded to launch into the details of her night with Pickford. “He said he loved me, Layla! On our way backstage last night, he just grabbed my hand and whispered ‘I love you’ into my ear! I couldn’t believe it!”
I removed the pillow from my head, sat up and checked my face in the mirror above my dresser. Not good.
“Layla, are you listening? Pickford told me he loved me!”
I gave my skull a good shake and finally tuned in to what my friend was saying. I’d known that Pick had held off saying those three little words throughout the entirety of their relationship. He always explained that he’d never said it to any girl before and he wasn’t planning on just throwing something like that around. I knew it infuriated Lisa, but she always made it seem like it was no big deal.
I guess, of course, until he actually said it.
“Lisa, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you guys.” I fluffed up my pillows and sank back into them. “So, what, are you guys back together?”
Lisa gave a dreamy sigh on her end. “Yeah. I guess so.”
I didn’t want to rain on her parade, but it’s not like their situation had suddenly changed. “But what about, you know, California?”
She was silent for a moment, then tried to sound chipper as she answered, “Well, we talked about it a lot last night and I mean, Pickford’s right. Why wouldn’t we at least make the most our time until he leaves for school? I mean, August is still three months away. Why wouldn’t we just stay together until then?”
It was the first sensible thing she’d said in regards to her relationship with Pickford-a point of view I’d tried to convince her of myself during their seemingly premature breakup-but I wondered why she’d suddenly seen the light. “Why now, Lis? What’s so different this time?”
She gave me an impatient, “Duh. I’ve been an idiot, okay? I admit it. I was an idiot. There. Are you happy?” She started laughing, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with her.
I sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to part two of The Big Breakup all over again in August, however.
Her tone changed, so I knew what was coming next. “So... On to more important business. WHAT HAPPENED WITH TRIP?”
I didn’t even know where to start. We’re friends again? I know I’m still in love with him? It’s okay that he’s not in love with me?
But I opted for the more evasive route. “We’re okay. We had a really great time last night. He took me to the wrap party and I got drunk off the Ferrantes’ homemade wine. I have the worst hangover!”
She laughed at that, saying, “Jeez. The theatre fags throw one hell of a party, huh?”
I reminded her that her boyfriend’s sister was a “theatre fag”, and could have just let the whole subject go at that. But something didn’t feel quite right about it. I laughed and said, “Actually, a few of them were really nice. Heather’s an absolute sweetheart.”
Lisa surprised the hell out of me when she said, “Oh, yeah. Blond girl, right? Kind of Mary Ingalls? Oh my God! We should set her up with Sargento! Wouldn’t they look so cute together?”
Definitely not the reaction I was expecting. But her suggestion wasn’t completely off the mark.
Before I could respond, she blurted out, “Oh, hey. I’ve gotta go. I told Pickford I’d go to church with him this morning. I’ll call you back later, okay?”
Church? Who was this person and what had she done with my best friend?
I stuttered, “Uh, o-okay. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
I checked the clock on my nightstand and saw that it was past ten. I knew it was my God-given right as a teenager to sleep the day away, but I’d always been an early riser, and ten was actually a pretty late wakeup hour for me. I got out of bed, deciding that a shower would make me feel a little more like myself again.
I was lathering up my hair, belting out “Weekend in New England”, psychically willing Trip to call. It was like five months ago all over again, but this time... Well... this time, I wasn’t planning on being a complete moron.
I was, however, only wearing a towel when I walked out of the bathroom and saw Trip at the bottom of the stairs talking to my father.
Our eyes met for only a second before I darted into my bedroom and slammed the door. I heard Dad say, “Well, I guess she was awake after all!” Then he laughed and yelled up to me, “Layla! Trip’s here. Please put some clothes on before coming down.”
Oh my God I could have just killed the man.