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what she would wear and how she would do
her hair, both fixations that she usually found boring and trivial. By the end
of the class, she had no clue who had answered Ms. Sweeney’s question, or what
the correct answer had been.
    When the final bell of the day rang, Layla
pulled her backpack over her shoulder and marched out of her class en route to
the dreaded yellow bus. She stopped short suddenly, noticing Jay leaning
against the far wall. “Hey,” he said smiling. “I thought I’d rescue you from
school transportation hell.”
    “What?” she asked, slightly dumbfounded.
    “I thought I’d give you a ride home,” he
reiterated. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I didn’t.”
    “No, yes…I mean, yes, thank you,” she
stammered.
    “You’d prefer the school bus?” he asked
skeptically.
    “No, no…I meant thank you for the offer, that’s
really nice of you.”
    He reached over and maneuvered her bag off her
shoulder, throwing it over his own. “So how were the rest of your classes,” he
asked casually as they walked out the door toward the parking lot.
    There was nothing but awkward, embarrassing
small-talk the whole way to his car.
    He finally stopped in front of a sleek, black Range
Rover and unlocked the doors with his remote keychain.
    Layla climbed in and put her seatbelt on while
Jay opened the backdoor and flung the backpacks on the empty seat.
    As he climbed in and started the car, Layla got
a whiff of his heavenly scent that she had spent way too many hours dreaming
about lately.
    Jay hit the radio and pulled slowly out of the
parking lot. A soulful, electric guitar riff oozed from the speakers. “Led
Zeppelin,” Layla said softly.
    “You know Led Zeppelin?” Jay asked, smiling
sideways at her. “I’m surprised. Most kids our age don’t seem to be the classic
rock type anymore.”
    “My mother’s boyfriend loves them,” she said,
suddenly feeling a little more at ease for the conversation starter.
    “Let me guess,” Jay said, “he’s in his
mid-fifties.”
    Layla let out a chuckle. “I wish,” she replied.
“Would you believe that my mom’s boyfriend is only thirty-two?”
    “Get out!” Jay answered. “How old is your
mother?”
    “Mom was eighteen when she had me, and James is
four years younger than her.”
    “Wow,” Jay said, shaking his head.
    “To make matters worse, he looks about
twenty-five,” Layla added. “I went with him to pick out mom’s Christmas present
last year, a gold necklace, and everyone in the jewelers congratulated me on my
generous boyfriend. It was really embarrassing.”
    “Did they start dating when you moved here last
year?” Jay questioned.
    Layla was taken aback by the question. This was
her first conversation with Jay, so she’d never mentioned that she’d only moved
the year before. She felt a little giddy at the prospect that he may have asked
some of the other kids in school about her. Or perhaps he’d just overheard a
conversation. Yeah, that was probably it. “We live with James,” she explained.
“It was his idea to move here last year, so we came with him.”
    “And your father?” Jay asked. “Sorry if I’m
being too forward,” he added.
    “My father was in a helicopter accident in
Afghanistan over four years ago,” Layla said sadly.
    “I’m sorry,” Jay said again. “I’m really sorry
for your loss.”
    “Well, the worst part was, they didn’t even
find his body. The four other people with him were burnt up pretty badly, but
judging by the dental records, Dad was not one of them.” She shook her
shoulders and stared out the window momentarily, trying to squelch the pain in
her belly. Her hand instinctively went to her necklace, the last gift her
father had given her. He pulled her aside before leaving for the airport that morning
and presented her with a silver, square charm with an unusual design consisting
of a sideways eight surrounded by three circles, hanging on a thin silver
chain. “This is the key