Page 43 of Keep Me Still
My phone buzzes again, interrupting my response, and I look down.
Yep, I looked everywhere. Guess I lost it. Keep an eye out and let me know if it turns up around you? I’m pretty sure that’s where it was the last time I saw it.
“Layla, pause or play?” she asks, as the Treble Makers take the stage on the screen.
What am I going to do with you?I send back.
Hopefully some things we can’t mention in public.I nearly jolt off the futon at his words.
“Layla?” Corin demands.
“Play! Hit play!” Jesus.
Heraunt has been holding out on me. And I’m not going to be able to focus on anything until I get some answers.
We have practice Sunday at noon, so I call her as we walk to the stadium, making sure to trail behind my teammates far enough to be out of hearing range.
“Landen? Is she okay?” Kate’s worried voice greets me.
“She’s fine. She’s more than fine actually. Which is why I’m calling.”
“Oh-kay,” she says slowly, and I can hear her typing stop. It’s only nine a.m. in Georgia, but I know she’s probably already put in a day’s work.
“The other day I, uh,someonethrew a glass bottle against a fence and last night some guys came out of a metal door hard enough to rip the damn thing off the hinges. And she wasfine.” I was a mess, however, though there’s no need to mention that.
Her typing resumes. “That’s a good thing. It means the Topiramax is working. So why do you sound all wound up?”
“Because I didn’t realize she was better when we made this arrangement,” I whisper angrily into my phone. That is to say, I didn’t realize that she wouldn’t need me after all.
Layla’s aunt sighs loudly. “It’s not failsafe. A car could backfire on her way to class, triggering an episode. Or there could be a shooting on campus, God forbid. That’s the problem. I’m a million miles away and there’s no guarantee that she’s cured. Her test results are indicative of far worse problems than her PTSD. So in a way, the seizures saved her life, because we might not have known about the hematoma otherwise.”
“Right, I get it. It’s just, I’m not sure how she’d feel about this. And if she wants me out of her life at any point, I’ll have to respect that.” Even if it kills me.
She sighs again. “We’ve been through this. If it weren’t for you, she’d be at UGA right now and I could be the one keeping an eye on her. But after you left, well…you know. And she decided to move across the damn country. And since she wouldn’t let me come with her, Ineedyou there.Sheneeds you there, even if she doesn’t know it.”
“Um, she might be coming around somewhat. But if she finds out that we talked, that I turned down playing pro soccer in Ecuador to come here and babysit her, I have a feeling there will be hell to pay—for me and you both.” And I don’t have the luxury of being a permanent fixture in her life. I can be disposed of. “What do we do then?”
“Look, you’re the one who hassled me every other day after you left about status updates. You’re the one who swore you just wanted what was best for her. If things have changed, then just say so. Go back to Colorado or play soccer overseas or whatever and I’ll figure something out. I can contact someone at the university and have them notified of her condition.” She takes a deep breath, and I can practically hear her debating about telling me whatever comes next. “If something does happen, I’d feel a hell of a lot better knowing you’re there with her, at least until I can get there. But I get it. You have your own life, and it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. Things change, people change. If you want to back out, then do it. No hard feelings.”
Yeah right. And she’s got a point. Several actually. When Layla blew me off via text message, I damn near lost my mind and drove straight back to Georgia every damn day. But my mom needed me and Layla wanted nothing to do with me. So I resorted to calling her aunt at work pretty much every day until she started giving me updates on how Layla was doing. What meds she was on, if she’d had any more seizures, how they were treating her at school.
Not that I was all that worried about the last one, since I’d threatened Cam and DW until I was blue in the face before leaving, and both guys swore to look out for her and to keep the girls from giving her shit. Not that they really had since Homecoming. Whether they felt sorry for Layla after seeing how bad it was or just didn’t want me to blow the fuck up on them wasn’t clear. Or important. So long as they treated her with the kindness and respect she deserved.
I lean down and pretend to tie my shoe to put off going into practice with the others. “I don’t want out. I just don’t want her to find out about this and hate me.” Just when she’s finally starting to let me in.Again.
“Okay, first of all, I see no reason she would need to find out. And secondly, I don’t think she could ever hate you. Would she be mad? Well…yeah. But hate you? I don’t even think she’s capable of that. Plus, she’s a smart girl. Angry as she’d be, eventually she would see sense and know that this was done with her best interest at heart.” Her voice stays steady but I can tell the woman is trying to convince herself of the shit she’s shoveling onto me. “Just be discreet, Landen, and everything will be fine.”
“I hope you’re right.”But I suspect you’re dead-ass wrong.
“I’mnot gonna lie. Yesterday kicked my ass,” Skylar tells me Monday morning. Stretching until my hands damn near smack the doorframe, I realize I’m pretty fucking sore too. And texting Layla till after midnight probably wasn’t the smartest move.
“Probably didn’t help that we went to practice slightly hungover,” I point out.
“Yeah, I’m thinking that was a dumbass move, not that I wouldn’t do Saturday night over again.”
Ditto, my friend. “Speaking of which, did Corin mention if they were coming to the scrimmage tomorrow night?”
“Nah, she’s playing hard to get. But twenty bucks says they show up.”
