Disclaimer: I do not own Sky High. 'Layla' is by Eric Clapton. This is my first Sky High story. I hope it's enjoyable.
A Bit Of Clapton
Once again, Layla found herself alone at the Paper Lantern. She took a sip of her lemonade, silently cursing Will for ditching her yet again. Sure, they weren't dating anymore, but they were still friends. He should at least have the decency to call her and tell her that he can't make it. That's not so hard, is it? She glanced at her watch ever so often due to extreme boredom. She usually didn't mind spending time at the Paper Lantern. She found herself frequenting the Chinese restaurant more and more as senior year had dragged on. Warren usually took a break between shifts to chat a bit before he was off to take more orders. She would wait for him and he'd scowl, rolling his eyes, pretending to be annoyed upon taking her home.
Today, though there was quite a crowd, so Warren couldn't even make time for small talk as he rushed around, taking orders and delivering food. Her lips quirked into a ghost of a smile as she watched the hothead scowl at customers. Just seeing him made her stomach clench tighter. The Paper Lantern had been her go-to at first because she thought the food was delicious, but then later came to the realization that she found Warren's company more delicious than the food. Whenever she was with him, she felt a spark that had been missing with Will. She chided herself for thinking that way, Warren was just a friend.
"Want me to warm that up for you?" Warren asked, startling her. He always did that, startle her.
Layla gave him a look, "You can't use your powers."
He rolled his eyes, "We've had this conversation before, hippie. It's called a microwave."
"Oh yeah," she smiled at recalling their first real conversation three years ago. She couldn't believe that she was a senior at Sky High already. Warren had graduated two years ago and was currently enrolled in the local community college to figure out what he wanted his cover to be.
'Apparently ass kicking isn't a major,' she remembers him drawling upon his graduation.
"It's fine," she replied.
He sat down in the booth across from her, "Stronghold late again?"
"As usual," she frowned.
"Good thing he's not a girl, or else people might think he's pregnant," he smirked, glad that he at least got a smile out of the hippie.
"You're mean," she observed, still smiling.
"It took you three years to realize that? Man, you're slower than I thought," he rolled his eyes.
Layla scowled, nearly matching the one Warren wore just minutes ago.
"Don't you have orders to take?" she asked. She had gotten better at giving steely glares since becoming friends with Warren.
"Nope," he grinned at her.
"You're ridiculous," she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Thank you," he deadpanned, getting up from his seat.
He continued taking orders and yelling in Mandarin occasionally. She couldn't help but chuckle whenever he sent her a cheeky grin. It's as if he had replaced Will as her closest confidant. Will. She groaned, checking her phone. Nope, no new messages. She had half the mind to go hurt him, but she didn't have that right anymore as they had broken up right before senior year started. He had been off saving the world all summer, leaving her to hang out with Magenta, and on occasion, Warren. Her outings with Magenta became more scarce as she began to officially date 'Glow Boy'. Instead, she spent most of her time with Warren, not even minding that Will canceled on her for every date they had planned. Warren had become closest to her, despite his attempts at distancing himself. He understood her with just one look. He wouldn't ask her a bunch of questions when she was upset. He'd leave her be and wait for her come to talk out her feelings. He had good practice at it considering that Will jilted her at least once a week over the summer.
She had become so lost in her thoughts that she jumped in her seat when Warren gruffly informed her that they were closing.
"Oh, I lost track of time," she said, shaking herself out of her reverie.
"C'mon, I'll drive you home," he said, well aware that despite being eighteen, Layla had yet to take her driver's test.
"Thanks," she said appreciatively.
They walked in relative silence to his car. He opened the door for her, rolling his eyes when she looked surprised.
"I'm not a total barbarian," he quipped.
Once they were on the road, she fiddled with the stations.
"Joni Mitchell?" he raised a brow.
"You know Joni Mitchell?" she asked, curious.
He rolled his eyes again, humming along as the next song started.
What'll you do when you get lonely
And nobody's waiting by your side?
You've been running and hiding much too long.
You know it's just your foolish pride.
She grinned when she realized his humming had turned into singing quietly. She had heard this song before, but she couldn't quite place it.
Layla, you've got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging, darling please.
Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind.
Her lips quirked into a wider smile. If only he meant it.
"Why Warren, I'm flattered," she teased.
"Huh?" he asked, listening to the song. Realization dawned on his face. He glanced at her, noticing the heat rising to her cheeks. He himself felt warmer. Dammit, he had gotten to fond of the hippie. He had tried so hard to ignore her, but she was always there. She helped him study for finals before graduation, she helped him out at the Paper Lantern when the staff was short, she was the one who dragged him to the park and botanical gardens, and damn it all, he actually enjoyed himself.
She looked at him with those eyes he couldn't resist. Hadn't she been the one to convince him to fake-date her just a few years ago? She was the one who got him to hurry over whenever she called, no matter what he was busy with. Hell, she had just convinced him to attend prom with her not more than two days before.
"Like a fool, fell in love with you," he sang quietly as they pulled up in front of her house.
Layla gazed at him, smiling. She scooted as close to him as she could and kissed him softly. She felt as though she was on fire as she felt the warmth fill her. Warren ran his hands through her red hair, pulling away. He smirked at the shocked look she had on her face.
"Let's make the best of the situation, before I finally go insane," both of them whispered, grinning like fools.
"So, prom?" Layla asked.
Warren nodded, "See you around, hippie."
Layla laughed as she got out of the car, "Same to you, hot head."
She walked into her house, hands on her lips. They felt hot like fire, and she liked it. She had a thank you letter to write to Eric Clapton.
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