the ordeal of being known

Layla

When Layla woke the next day, she had a dreadful feeling in her chest. In fact, as soon as she woke up, she got up and reached for the door. It was too quiet. Normally, she could hear movement from the kitchen where Celia would be making breakfast.

She could hear someone whispering, and then it suddenly stopped. Celia cleared her throat and called out her name.

“What happened?” she asked.

Celia turned the phone screen to show her what she had been looking at, Layla’s brain took a few moments to process what she was looking at.

It was her and Jess. Kissing.

Her stomach twisted. The picture was taken just yesterday. It was late. She and Celia had decided, for some reason, to walk everyone to their cars. Jess’s car was parked the furthest. Layla had felt at peace. She felt so normal, so happy, and it was a weight off her shoulders that her friends knew about her and Jess and were happy for her.

She had kissed Jess in front of the car; he was pushed against the door, smiling as he pressed his lips to hers and running his hand though her hair, the first time in her life where she felt comfortable enough to show affection in front of others and someone had taken a picture of it.

Someone had taken it and sold it for an insane amount. The picture was everywhere by the time they found out.

In the few posts where her comments weren’t turned off on her art account, it was flooded with horrible comments, then the comment started flooding her personal account and then they were all over Jess’s account. Most of the ones on his account were telling him to stay away from her because she was a gold digger who had tried her luck on both Mateo and Kione, and it didn’t work. That he deserved better, and so on.

Layla wouldn’t have cared if it wasn’t for the fact that Jess had gone completely MIA after the picture went out. She texted him over and over again but had no response. Even Kione wasn’t responding. Layla was trying not to panic, not to think that maybe he thought this kind of attention on him every time they were seen in public was not something he was interested in.

A couple of hours went by with no text or call. She had stopped looking through the comments in Jess’s posts, his comments were still turned on. Later when an unannounced visit rang the doorbell, she expected it to be Jess, but it wasn’t.

It was Anne Reyes.

“Are you busy, dear?” Anne asked gently.

“Umm, no?”

“Good, get dressed. We’re going shopping,” she told her, like it was completely normal for her to be in LA.

“Shopping?”

“Yes. I’m supposed to get my second Birkin today,” she explained.  

“Oh, okay.” Layla changed her clothes in silence, kissed her cat, and got in the car with Anne.

There was a lot of traffic, so she spent a lot of time speaking to Anne. She jumped from one topic to the other, but she didn’t say anything about Jess or the pictures. When they arrived, Anne kept taking her opinion and pulling her into conversation, walking her through the process of getting a Birkin. Layla had no choice but to get distracted.

Later, when they settled in the restaurant Anne chose, Layla cleared her throat, resisting the urge to check her phone.

“Okay, you can stop trying to distract me,” Layla said.

“Distract you?” she asked, a very familiar glint of amusement entered her green eyes.

“Yes.I It’s okay. We were reckless. I get it.”

“I’m not here to distract you, dear. I don’t think you’re reckless at all.”

“Then why did you fly all the way here?”

“I thought you might need the company, especially when my son had to fly out to his next game.”

Layla to the audience: the game!

In the midst of all of this, the fact that the Lakers had to fly to their next game had slipped her mind

She shuddered. She didn’t realize how tense she was for all these hours; she was still not used to feeling like her soul was so connected to his, to how it affected her.

Jess was the only thought she could not compartmentalize. Because of that, these past few months had taken a toll on her. She had this fear that she was still undeniably unloveable. It constantly hovered over her. She kept thinking, what if he found more things to hate than to love?

He hadn’t said he loved her back; she tried not to think about it. It was a step forward for her to express her vulnerability without panicking; she refused to let her mind ruin it.

What hurt her the most was all her fears were a result of her thoughts. He wasn’t doing anything to hurt her; she was the one hurting herself.

“I forgot about the game,” she whispered. “He was having a hard time during the last one. I should have been there. How could I forget?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. He said he wanted to get his head back in the game before inviting friends and family to see him again. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, he’s never really alone. Little Kio is always by his side.”

“I don’t know how to deal with this fear,” she confessed.

“My husband used to struggle to accept how peaceful our life felt whenever we were together. It takes a lot of time, a lot of reassurance, and a lot of good company, but you get there, eventually.”

“You know, when Jess was younger, he’d always ask me ‘how did you know dad was the one?’ He had a romantic heart and high expectations for love. I told him repeatedly, when you know, you know. I don’t believe in love at first sight and neither does he, but I told him sometimes there’s a certainty in our hearts that lets us know we’ll love this person on purpose. One day, a couple of months ago, he called me and said ‘mom, I know’ and wouldn’t explain it any further. He can be really dramatic like that, but then when I saw you at that event, I saw his eyes when he looked at you. It looked like the wind was knocked out of his chest, and I knew.”

Gratitude coursed through her. She thought it was pretty clear where Jess got his calming presence from. At the end of the day, Anne dropped her off at home and then went to stay at Noor’s house.

She spent a while working on a new collection she wanted to sell. She was so focused she didn’t hear the sound of her phone, signaling that a new text had arrived, until the noise came again and again.

She picked up the phone and saw a text about thirty minutes ago; it was Jess telling her that the comments were a lot more positive now that she was photographed with his mom, who was adored by the public.

Layla didn’t know anyone had taken a picture of them, but she had a feeling Anne had a hand in it.

The other text was Jess telling her to face time him so he could explain what he was doing and failing to do all day.

Layla remembered months ago, when Jess told her he prided himself on being a ‘chill’ and ‘nonchalant’ kind of guy, so imagine her surprise when she saw the multiple texts with barely a few minutes between them.

Layla to audience: sometimes, the best thing that can happen to you is falling in love with an idiot.