Private Affairs

Chapter Three of Distinguished

Dedicated to HermionePeace!

Will called that night. A brief voice message, but a call nonetheless. Layla hadn't been around to pick up the phone – she was far too agitated over Warren's sudden outburst to touch it again. Besides, the glowing object now safely in her handbag had proved to be too much of a distraction.

This was a fruit that she had never been able to produce with her own hands. Now, it seemed, she had grown to be stronger. Gleeful and excited, all Layla wanted was someone to share the joy with. But her parents were asleep, Will was still at his talk show, and Warren – well, if he could slam the phone on her, she wasn't going to beg to hear his voice either.

Layla knew exactly what she would do. Carefully pushing the ledge of her bedroom window upwards, she climbed out and onto the tree just outside with expertise, the beautiful lemon still in one hand. It didn't seem capable of speech anymore than lemon juice, however.

She didn't know how she'd done it. She hadn't even known that she's done it, even. Layla wanted to see for herself, so she closed her eyes and felt the magic cruising through her veins, finally converging at her outstretched palm. With her eyes still shut, she touched the outer surface of the fruit, and nearly sighed in disappointment. It was round and smooth – an apple.

But that didn't stop her from hugging the lemon to sleep that night atop the tree, blissfully ignorant of being watched.

Early next morning, Layla had awoken, and nearly fell off the branch. She had forgotten where she was. Cautiously, she made her way back into her bedroom. It was miraculous how the lemon survived the entire night, she mused, as she quickly brushed her teeth, managing a quick hop over to the phone.

There was nothing from Warren. Layla decided that it didn't really matter, when the answering machine emitted a beep.

You have one new message.

Could it be…?

"Hey, Layla. I'm sorry. Make up?" The entire message lasted about five seconds, but fireworks were exploding in her heart, and she played and replayed the message until her mom called from below.

Who gave a damn about Warren when Will was willing to apologize?

She quickly replied his message, her brain fuzzy and warm from Will's apology. Finally, she could tell someone about the lemon. Last night's anger was evidently forgotten, and her sudden feelings about Warren were completely pushed aside. If she was lucky, she would be able to catch Will before he left his house.

Layla bounded down the stairs.

-

Warren Peace sat alone in his room above the Paper Lantern, sparks of fire that spouted from his palm igniting the dark. Damn the stupid girl. Who did she think she was, toying with him like that?

What was this? Another plan to get Stronghold back? Flames danced merrily on his outstretched hand, in perfect contradiction to his mood. Sometimes, he hated his best friend. So he got all the glory, all the fame. Even the girl. But did he truly deserve Layla?

No.

He was never there for her when she needed him – that had to be the only reason she turned to Warren. He took her for granted, he never cherished her. But Layla had used him again. For Will.

Before he knew it, Warren was running down to Paper Lantern; Will was going to get it so bad.

-

Will had returned home late the previous night from the talk show, still a little up in the clouds from all the attention and swoons. He had taken a shower and a quaint little late night supper, before a sudden thought came crashing down into his head, bringing him back to earth.

Layla.

She was his girlfriend, and best friend or not, Warren had better not start poking his nose into their private affairs. So he had left her a message, knowing full well that she would reply to it no matter what.

And sure enough, there was a message waiting for him in the answering machine the next morning. Will yawned lazily. He didn't have a show to attend, and simply took his time to dress up while waiting for Layla to come by.

He strolled down the stairs when the doorbell rang. There she was, pretty like always with a smile on her face. "Layla! You're here! Come in!" He ushered her in, motioning for her to sit.

"I'm not angry, you dork," Layla said teasingly, collapsing onto the couch she had remembered so well since childhood. "Oh, and nice interview you had there."

Will pretended to scowl, then broke off into a huge grin. "I know, right? The host was really cool. And the crowd went crazy when I recounted the whole thing. It was really much better than I thought!" And he went on, pausing for Layla's reaction before continuing, a delighted smile plastered on his face.

Layla nodded, and inserted appropriate responses during his speech. But really, this wasn't the apology she had in mind. Still, Will had bothered. That was all that mattered to her.

"…never knew that fangirls could be so crazy." Will finished triumphantly, and stared at her quizzically when Layla failed to reply. "Earth to Layla?" He chuckled at his own little pun.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry," she shook her head apologetically. "Very incredible indeed. …Here, let me show you something." She reached excitedly into her handbag and held up her prized possession.

Will shot her another puzzled look. "Um… It's a lemon?" He asked lamely.

"Yeah, it's a lemon, Will!" Layla blurted. "I could never make one of those, remember? It was always apples, oranges, pears. Never a lemon. But look!"

Will's mind went spinning. He had truly forgotten about Layla not being able to make a lemon, but really, was he expected to remember? But he couldn't afford to lose her to anyone again.

"Of course I remember, silly." He flashed her one of his dazzling smiles. "Congrats! Your power must be growing!"

She nodded delightedly just as the doorbell rang again. Once, twice, three times, each ring getting more frantic than the last. Will rolled his eyes. It was Warren. "Give me a minute."

And sure enough, the pyrokinetic stood outside, looking more impatient than ever. "Oh, I thought you forgot how to open the door." He walked in like the house belonged to him, and was mildly surprised when he found Layla there as well. He chose to ignore her.

Layla appeared to want to speak up, but Warren's glare stopped her.

Will was used to Warren doing this, but not today. "This is my house, Peace. Please show some respect."

"What are you going to do? Bench-press me out the window?" Warren sneered.

"What are you going to do? Snog my girlfriend in the park?" Will scoffed right back. He hadn't expected it to come out so directly, but there he was.

"I did not snog your girlfriend in the park."

"I didn't say that you did."

"Your girlfriend here had a crying fit over you, and all you can do is appear in talk shows, and yell at the person who tried to repair your relationship? That's a new, Stronghold."

A pained expression worked its way onto Layla's pretty features, and her face flushed nearly as red as her hair. "Stop it, guys! …It's my fault, all right? It was my fault for being silly when Will didn't return my calls. I shouldn't have hugged him in the park. But it was merely a hug, okay?" And she didn't add that she had actually liked it.

"You stay out of this." Warren's voice was cold, and Layla nearly shuddered. "Best friend here isn't thinking straight."

"Best friends don't steal each other's girlfriends!" Will was controlling his anger now. What right did Warren have to mess with Layla like that? She was his childhood friend. She loved him. If Warren thought that he could take her away, he was very much mistaken.

"And best friends don't shout at each other!" It was never anything good when someone raised his fist, especially Warren. Layla stood in between the two hostile friends in a last desperate attempt to stop the fight.

Warren was fuming. He couldn't be sure of his own feelings for Layla since that day at the ball, but all he knew was that Will was treating her unfairly. Now, he was certain that Layla had been more than a friend to him. But like real he would let anyone know. "Go away or I'll burn you too."

"Layla! Don't bother!" Will had gotten into a stance. Almost shaking with anger and fear, she backed away, right into the sofa. There was nothing she could do.

What can I do? My powers are nothing up against fire and super-strength. I can't break them apart without hurting them, either.

If only they would stop fighting!

The first flicker of blaze had lit up Warren's eyes, promising an inferno. His hotheadedness so often caused him to make wrong choices, including attacking his best friend. Just then, a bright ray of yellow shone through Layla's handbag, illuminating the entire room with blinding light. Instinctively, Layla placed her hands to shield her eyes from the glow.

When she finally lowered her hands, she saw with astonishment that Will was sitting on the couch beside her, and Warren on the one opposite, both looking as dazed and confused as she was.

In that instant however, Layla knew.

A/N: I can't believe I'm actually updating this! This chapter is dedicated to HermionePeace, for her constant bugging for updates. xD And yeah, the writing changed quite a bit, didn't it? Hope you still enjoyed it anyway. (My last A/N was so silly. Ugh. D: )

Watch out for more potential updates, and thanks for reading and all of the reviews!