When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.
It was the light. It was still the blinding yellow of a scorching day in the city, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no smog veiling my window.
I climbed out of bed and looked outside to find the ground again soaking. It looked like more puddle fights today. Maybe I should just go back to bed now.
Betsy had left for work before I got downstairs. Living with Betsy was practically having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely.
I threw together my backpack and rushed out the door, excited to go to school. And that scared me. I knew it wasn't the stimulating learning environment I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Layla Kelby. And that was very, very stupid.
I should be avoiding her entirely after my thoughtless and embarrassing babbling yesterday. And I was suspicious of her; why should she lie about her eyes? I was still frightened of the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from her, and I was still tongue-tied whenever I pictured her flawless face. I was well aware that my puny league and her league were in spheres that did not touch. So I shouldn't be at all anxious to see her today.
When I climbed into my car a delicious scent hit my nose. I looked over at the passenger side. Sitting on the dashboard was a plate with a breakfast burrito. Betsy certainly had nothing to do with this. Nadia. I felt myself smile widely. It turned out I did have a mother of sorts here, after all.
Driving to school, eating my breakfast, I distracted myself from unwanted speculations about Layla Kelby by thinking about Michelle and Erica, and the obvious difference in how teenage girls responded to me here. I was sure I looked exactly the same as I had in Forks. Maybe it was just that the girls back home had watched me pass slowly through all the awkward phases of adolescence and still thought of me that way. Or maybe the girls here were just bored of cocky, brainless guys. But insecure nerds like me didn't seem to be the answer. Possibly my crippling clumsiness and social disorder were seen as endearing rather than pathetic. I found that doubtful. Whatever the reason, Michelle's puppy dog behavior and Erica's apparent rivalry with her were disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I didn't prefer being ignored.
I pulled into a parking space, collected my bag and climbed out of the car. It didn't' take long for Erica and Michelle to prance up to me with excited grins on their faces.
"What's going on?" They seemed even more giddy than usual.
Michelle cheerfully trilled, "Swimming starts in gym today! I hope you brought your suit!" I internally groaned. Of course I hadn't brought my bathing suit. And now everyone would have to be exposed to my frail, puny, blindingly pale body. Wonderful. I feigned enthusiasm.
The classes that usually went on forever sped past and before I knew it it was time to make my way to the pool. Michelle and Erica practically dragged me to the coach to ask for a backup swim suit. Naturally the only extra he had was a medium which was gigantic on me. I yanked the string around the waist and pulled as tight as I could, but I'm sure I just ended up looking like a startled chicken in swim trunks.
With my arms crossed over my chest in a futile attempt to cover myself, I made my way to the edge of the pool where the other guys had gathered. The boys and girls were supposed to separate on either side of the pool and once everyone was ready we would be timed on one lap. All the jocks, only concerned with showing off, waited on the very edge of the pool to jump at the coach's whistle. I stood at the very deep end, alone, trying to avoid the crowd and wait to be the last to swim. I was a good swimmer but probably nothing compared to these beach and pool natives. And my hair tended to expand a great deal when I went in pools.
Suddenly, with a hideous screech, one of the biggest jocks of them all barreled past me from the locker rooms to join his stupid friends before the coach blew his whistle. He obviously didn't see me, which really wasn't anything new or alarming, except that his massive muscled forearm flew into my stomach as he continued dashing, he didn't even feel that he had hit me. I never stood a chance. With the wind knocked out of me I fell backwards, hitting my head on the concrete ledge of the pool with a jolt and toppling into the water shortly after.
All I could see for a very long time was a bright blue fog. Foggy because I was confused or because my eyes were burning with chlorine, I didn't know. It seemed the blow to the head had stolen my motor skills and my efforts to save myself were pointless. But just as I was drifting further and further from the surface, my lungs searching for air but only gulping water, a white and orange streak flew through the water in my direction. I didn't know if it was my imagination but it wrapped around me extremely fast and dragged me up, cutting through the water as if it were nothing. But my poor fragile body was bound to give in at some point. Just before the thing and I reached the surface, total overwhelming blackness.
I woke up to dozens of dumbfounded faces staring at me expectantly. My worst nightmare. I coughed hoarsely and sucked in a huge gasp of air. I realized I was lying on the ground, I was freezing, my head hurt worse than it ever had in my life, and Layla Kelby was remarkable close to my face, staring at me intently. When I started stirring everyone backed away a bit. As I tried to remember exactly what had happened, she spoke in a low, frantic voice.
"Dan? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up and painfully sputtered out a great deal of pool water. I noticed she had her hand wrapped around my upper arm with an iron grasp.
"Be careful," she warned as I struggled with a deep cough. "I think you hit your head pretty hard." I had already come to that conclusion. I made an ugly pained expression.
"That's what I thought." Her voice, amazingly, sounded like she was suppressing laughter.
"How in the…" I trailed off, trying to clear my throbbing head. "How did you get over here so fast?"
"I was standing right next to you, Dan," she said, her tone serious again.
I turned to sit up and she had no warning this time, releasing my arm and scooting many feet away from me. I looked at her concerned, innocent expression and again was disoriented by the force of her electric blue eyes. What was I asking her?
Then a flurry of excitement and rushing bodies erupted, throwing my train of thought off even further. I gave up and tried to stand, but Layla's strong yet delicate hand pushed against my wet bare chest, sending shocks across my skin.
"Just stay down for now."
"But I'm freezing," I complained. It surprised me when she giggled under her breath.
"You were over there," I suddenly remembered, and her giggle stopped short. "You were with the rest of the girls."
Her expression turned to stone. "No, I wasn't."
"I saw you." All around us students had started talking loudly and more teachers had arrived. But I held onto our argument; she knew I was right.
"Dan, I was standing a couple feet from you and I dove in right after you fell." She unleashed the full, brilliant power of her eyes on me, as if trying to communicate something crucial. She really only made me want to kiss her very, very badly.
"No," I grinded my teeth.
The blue in her eyes sparkled. "Please, Dan."
"Why?" I asked curiously, softly.
"Trust me," she pleaded, her soft, musical voice overwhelming.
I heard the coach approaching with a stretcher now. "Will you promise to explain everything to me later?"
"Fine," she snapped, quickly exasperated. I nodded.
I climbed onto the stretcher and was told I needed to be taken to the hospital to see if I had a concussion. I sat in my stretcher for a long time thinking. She had been completely across the massive pool and had seen me fall, diving in and pulling my wait and hers from the deepest part of the pool in seconds.
I looked over from my recline to see Layla's family, looking on at the teachers and students and nurse and parents from a distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury but held no hint of concern for their sister's safety.
I refused to be taken to the hospital by ambulance but Layla insisted I couldn't drive. I was wrapped in a towel, put in a neck brace, and pushed into the passenger seat of my precious sports car. Layla slid smoothly into the driver's seat in a way I knew was much different from the way I entered. The entire ride was silent.
Betsy was waiting in the lobby, cell phone glued to her ear and impatient expression plastered to her face. She walked with me to an emergency room where I was put through all the normal tests, pokes, and prods. Betsy didn't hang up her phone the entire time we were there so I might as well have been on my own.
After a few minutes they wheeled me away to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I begged the nurse to let me leave but she said I had to talk to the doctor first. So I was trapped in the ER with my careless mother chattering to some client in my ear. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back onto the bed. Might as well get comfortable.
"Is he asleep?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open and I jerked upright. Way to be obvious, Dan.
Layla was standing at the foot of my bed, smirking. I tried to glare at her but I'm sure my face was nothing near angry. It would have been more natural to ogle or drool.
My mother paused her conversation for about five seconds, staring at Layla with what I'm sure was jealousy, before picking up right where she left off.
"So what's the verdict?" Layla asked me.
"There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go," I complained. "Why are you here?"
"I came to spring you."
Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. He was very young with long shiny brown hair, and I am completely heterosexual but he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was pale, and tired-looking, with circles under his eyes. And from the bright blue eyes and pink lips, he had to be Layla's father.
"So, Mr. Strada," Dr. Kelby said in a hypnotic voice, "how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," I said for the twentieth time, at least.
He walked to the X-ray hanging next to my bed. "Your X-rays look good. Does your head hurt? Layla said you hit it pretty hard."
"It's fine." I repeated with a sigh, trying to convey my annoyance to Layla.
The doctor's cool fingers probed lightly along the back of my head, hitting the exact spot I thumped on the ledge of the pool. I tried to hide my cringe but he saw.
"Tender?" he asked.
"Not really." I could deal with it.
I heard a giggle and glanced over to catch Layla's eye roll. I sighed again.
"Well your mother is in the waiting room, and very impatient to leave from what I hear she's telling the nurses. But if you feel dizzy, lightheaded, or have vision trouble come back."
I thought about that for a minute. Either I could go back to school and be gawked at or go home and be absolutely alone until Nadia arrived in a few hours. The latter choice seemed more appealing.
Out of curiosity, and the need to talk to her about what exactly happened, I asked "Is she going back?"
"Someone has to spread the good news that you survived," she said smugly.
"In any case, you were very lucky." Said the doctor.
"Oh well I was just lucky Layla happened to be standing right next to me." She had to catch the sarcasm.
"Eh, well, yes," Dr. Kelby agreed absentmindedly and looked down at his papers, gathering them to leave. As soon as he was out of the room, I got out of the bed and moved to Layla's side.
"We need to talk." I stated the obvious, frustrated.
She shot me a nasty look then quickly stepped out of the room, into the long hallway. For a girl, and close to my height, her strides were very hard to keep up with. She couldn't just ignore me. Finally we turned a corner and she spun around to face me, her long hair whipping around and hitting my face. The smell was incredible and almost fazed me.
"What do you want?" she snapped, obviously annoyed. Her eyes were cold and hard. Her attitude intimidated me. What was I doing questioning this girl? Still, I had to get some answers.
"You owe me an explanation," I reminded her, wishing I could match her angry tone.
"I saved your life- I don't owe you anything."
I could hardly talk to normal girls, let alone girls like her. "But you promised." I tried to maintain the idea that I was the male in this situation. I straightened my back a bit.
"Dan, you hit your head and almost suffocated, you have no idea what you're talking about."
My temper gave me back some confidence. "There is nothing wrong with my head."
She wasn't backing down either. "What do you want from me, Dan?"
"I want to know why I'm lying for you and why you won't tell me the truth."
"What do you think happened?" she said as if I were a three-year-old describing a scratch.
The words rushed out of my mouth.
"You were no where near me, or any of the guys for that matter. What's-his-face with the biceps hit me and knocked me over and I hit my head hard. In the one minute that it took for me to fall, hit my head, hit the water, and sink to the bottom, you had made your way across the Olympic-sized pool, through our entire class, and into the deepest water." I could hear how crazy I sounded so I stopped. I had worked myself up into full temper by now and I had to grind my teeth to stay quiet.
She was staring at me in disbelief. Aside from that her face was like stone, as usual.
"You honestly think I did all of that? For you?" her tone questioned my sanity but I didn't entirely believe it. Besides the fact that I was hurt by her insinuation that I wasn't worth her rescue.
"Yes. I do." I didn't back down.
"Nobody will believe that ridiculous story, especially coming from you and involving me." She made me sound like less than a person.
"Well don't worry, I'm not planning on telling anyone," I tried to maintain my strength but she was slowly crushing me.
She looked shocked. "Then why does it matter?"
"It matters to me," I retorted. "I don't lie, so there had better be a good reason why I'm doing it."
"Can't you just thank me and get over it?"
I stayed quiet in silent refusal. I was too stubborn for that.
"You're not going to let it go, are you?"
I shook my head.
"Well that's unfortunate for you. I hope you're good at dealing with disappointment."
We scowled at each other in silence. I thought of something to say to break the silence but as soon as I formed a coherent sentence her face distracted me. Her eyes were a little darker but every bit as vivid blue. Her perfectly shaped pink lips begged to be kissed and yet again I had to fight to restrain myself. I collected my thoughts.
"Why did you even bother saving me?"
She paused, and for the first time I saw a sliver of vulnerability on her face.
"I don't know," she whispered. After another pause she turned her back, flipped her long fiery hair over her shoulder, and walked away from me.
I stood there for a moment. Alone. Just thinking about her and her words.
As I often did after encountering Layla, I snapped back into my right mind and strode out into the waiting room where my mom still chattered loudly into her phone. She didn't even ask, but I said, in a kind of hostile voice, "There's nothing wrong with me. Let's go."
We climbed into her car, prettier and even more expensive than mine, and drove the entire way with silence on my part and nonstop noise on her part. Betsy didn't matter though; I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to care about her. Layla's defensive behavior in the hall was definitely a confirmation of the bizarre things that I knew I saw.
When we got to the house I escaped to my room to tell my dad about what had happened. Maybe he'd help me make sense of the situation. I was completely consumed by the mystery that the beautiful Layla presented. And more than a little obsessed by Layla herself. How stupid of me. I was losing my absolute hatred and disgust for the city, and very disappointed in myself for that.
I desired nothing more to collapse into bed early that night. Which was exactly what I did.
That was the first night I dreamed of Layla Kelby.