the ordeal of being known
: Chapter 17

Layla

When Layla came out of the bathroom, she felt like she was on fire. Her temperature kept rising and she could barely stand for a couple of minutes without feeling dizzy.

She couldn’t replace Jess outside. She couldn’t replace his car, either. She felt that she deserved to be left like this, but it still stung a bit. She was glad it was her time of the month; she was all too eager to blame all her feelings on that.

She let the tears finally run down her face. She hadn’t cried in a while, but the combination of physical and mental exhaustion really took a toll on her.

She looked for her phone. She made a mistake; she was rude to him and he was just trying to help. She just needed to thank him. She called him but there was no answer.

About an hour later, the door unlocked. She saw her keys in his hands. He must have taken them when she was in the bathroom. He had rwo bags of Amir’s food in his hands, which made her want to continue crying because it was so nice of him.

“Jess.” She choked out. She wanted to say ‘will you hold me?’ she needed to say it out loud, but the words were clogged in her throat. Just then a miracle happened, a miracle she used to dream about, where someone knows what she needs without her having to ask. He was stumbling over to her, dropping the bags. She reached out her hand. Her vision was blurry and suddenly was enveloped in his arms. He was so warm.

He still made sure there was no skin to skin touching.

He kissed her hair, over and over again, and she realized that he was shaking. She lifted her head to look at him. He raised shaky hands, and he signed, “You called and I was driving.”

His eyes were filled with relief. All day, she misread him. He wasn’t angry with her; he was concerned.

“I’m sorry,” she told him over and over again and he shook his head.

He made her drink lots of water. She kept going to the bathroom, but she stopped vomiting. There was barely anything solid in my stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m being difficult, I’m sorry. I was just being stubborn. I’ll be better,” she said, deliriously, as he tucked her in.

She wanted to get these thoughts out of her head. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her mother staring at her with disapproval etched into her features. She wanted to beg, get out of my head mama, I am not so terribly unlovable, am I? Am I?

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, and you’re pretty breathtaking just the way you are.”

She had always been someone who felt their emotions too strongly, and this aching loneliness had picked her soul apart. She’d always needed a specific kind of intimacy, one that you usually designed for a partner. She’d held too many parts of her close in the hope that one day she’ll trust someone enough to give it to them, but as she came face to face with someone who was asking her for these parts, her hands trembled with fear.

She tried not to lose herself in him; she tried not to disturb the boundaries she carefully set, but it wasn’t working. Jess was an ongoing attack on her heart. She wasn’t strong enough to fight and win.

⸻

About two days later, she felt a lot better. Celia was worried when she got back but Layla brushed her off. She went on a simple errand just to get some fresh air.

She ran into Kione while she was shopping at Sephora.

When he saw her, he double checked before coming over. She did the sensible thing, ignoring him, and continued shopping while he trailed behind her. She did not know Kione; he was there occasionally when she hung out with Celia and Mateo, but that was it.

Kione was a bit taller and broader than Jess. He was a big guy and she could see how that worked for his advantage as captain; he looked pretty intimidating.

“We should talk, you and I,” he said. Sometimes when he spoke, he signed, even when he wasn’t talking to Jess. It just seemed like a reflex, as he did it so much because he talked to Jess more than anyone else.

Layla to the audience: The observation warmed my heart, but that’s irrelevant.

“About what?” she asked, trying out the different shades of red on her hand.

“You and Jess,” he said.

She wondered what Jess said about her. She was pretty sure only Kione was aware of the predicament they had gotten themselves into. Layla hadn’t said anything about the nature of her feelings to Celia or Mateo. Talking about feelings was never a part of her life. It was always something that had to be hidden, something that needed protection.

“Go away, Kione.”

“First of all, we’re not on a first name basis.”

“I literally don’t know what your last name is. What would I call you?”

“Really?” He seemed offended she didn’t know his last name.

“Go away.”

“He’s been miserable, you know,” he said.

That made her pause. Layla had a habit of filing away details she noticed about people she saw often. One thing she filed about the Lakers captain was something that Mateo had said: Kione could be a bit dramatic sometimes. She narrowed her eyes at him and he rolled his eyes, but smiled sheepishly like he got caught.

“Okay, not miserable but distracted, and a bit sad. He’s usually a lot more energetic and outgoing.”

“You should comfort him then.” She told him dryly, she didn’t like strangers being in her business, and Kione looked at her like she was unpredictable, like he was always wary of her, which is not a look she wanted to see on people’s faces anymore.

When she turned around, he caught her elbow.

“Hold on,” he said, looking a bit more serious. “Look, I don’t know you that well, but I know what I’ve seen. Jess loves going to all these events. He’s always the life of any gathering we have. The wives, the husbands, and the kids adore him; he’s all over the place. It’s a lot sometimes, but he loves how much these people love him. He likes being needed. Even the press can’t get enough of him. If this progresses, these people are going to want to meet you, talk to you and get to know you, and that can be a lot.”

It was a lot for her, someone who might at any moment have an anxiety attack, someone who was paranoid and hardly ever warms up to people, this issue had crossed her mind, it was the main reason she thought him and Onika would be good together.

He liked to be needed. She would need him, but would she allow herself to show it? What if her parents were right, and she was truly an unlovable partner? What would happen to her need then? Did Kione realize this situation could break her as well? Is that how everyone would look at them, with a certainty that she would be the villain?

“I’m not trying to get you to stay away from him.” His eyes softened. “But I saw how he looked at you, and I know my brother. If you don’t think you can do this, I need you to stay away from him because I know him well enough to know he won’t survive you.”

Layla glimpsed a flash behind Kione. A girl was taking a picture of them. After a beat of silence, she heard her ask her friend with a hint of distaste, “Wasn’t she dating his best friend?” Kione glared at them until they left.

“You know, I remember the first I saw Jess. In vivid detail.”

There was a thought that constantly hovered in her mind, that whatever this is started way before she could intervene, that there was this invisible string pulling the pair of them a bit closer over time, in small steps.

“I was bored. I barely knew Mateo at the time, but I was curious because everyone was talking about how well you guys were playing, so I thought I’d see what the fuss was about, even though I know nothing about basketball. When you came out, Jess was a few minutes late, but he came after you. His whole face lit up with so much joy, and I was just forced to notice his smile. It was pretty and then his hair, it was messy and it was impossible not to notice how you made him feel comfortable. He had the brightest smile in the room. I was so envious, and I wanted to be the cause of so much joy for someone. Just once I want to see the love pour out of their eyes and I want to have the chance to show my love in return.”

Kione tilted his head, and she stopped shopping for a moment. She didn’t know if she could be a good partner. She’d never been in a relationship, but she would try. Fuck, she would put every ounce of effort into making him feel loved.

“I don’t care if you don’t approve of me, but you will never talk like you know me or what I would do for Jess again, okay?”

“I—”

“Never again,” she told him.

“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. As she made her exit, she caught sight of a mischievous grin on his face, like he’d just gotten exactly what he wanted.

⸻

Layla tossed and turned for hours before she made the choice to send a simple “hi” to Jess.

“Do you want to go get milkshakes?”

“It’s 3 am.”

“I know a place. It’s LA.”

“Ugh fine. Come pick me up.”

He picked her up in his Mercedes, which she loved even though she wasn’t really interested in cars. They parked in front of what looked like a coffee shop; she recognized the place as one of the places Celia did an interview in one time. They were open twenty-four hours a day, and were famous for having a quiet area where students could study. They had amazing milkshakes. Jess ordered one strawberry milk shake for both of them to share.

“What were you doing with Kione today?” he asked.

“I just ran into him while I was shopping and he said hi.” Jess looked unconvinced. There was always more to it when it came to Kione, who was always plotting for something. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I did. He tried to convince me that you were begging him to go on a date with you. ”

“That’s just not true. I only asked him for a one-night stand.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Don’t be mean.” He had a whiny look in his eyes that she really liked. He took the milkshake away. “Tell me you’re a dirty little liar.”

“Put the milkshake back.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Alright then, answer this instead. Are you going to push me away again, darling?”

“Probably. Are you going to keep trying?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“I’ll keep trying and then one day you’re going to let me take care of you.” He didn’t touch her, but he let his hand hover near hers. He was trying. He’d been trying to make her more comfortable with physical affection. She’d never had someone treat her with so much patience before, and it was making her want to scream at him and hide.

“I won’t. I’ll fight you each step of the way,” she told him.

“I know you will,” he signed. His gaze was fond. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I want you to tell me, to explain how you think you know me so well.”

“I had predicted as much.” He took out papers and pens and started writing. Her heart warmed. They hadn’t sent any letters to each other for a couple of days. He gave her a pen, and then got to writing.

“I’m pretty sure blue is your favorite color. All of your paintings have some shade of blue in them, but I think your favorite is ocean blue. You hate bright lights and you lose your temper more if the lights are bright because they irritate you. You hate loud noise. You have a very specific mood for baking. If you’re feeling patient, then you’ll try to bake. You also think people who don’t like cats are creepy, you have different coffee drinks for different mood swings and you cringe every time someone uses a pet name to call you. You have a very specific list of people who are allowed to make skin to skin contact with you and you pace when you have a new idea for a painting.

“I think I knew the moment you caught my eyes was the moment you let me watch you paint, I don’t think I’ve ever noticed before that even though I’m surrounded with people who love what they do, people who make millions of dollars from something that they adore, no one loves it the way you do. There’s always a frown on your face when you look at people, but when you paint? It softens your edges. You look different. The look in your eye caught me off guard.”

Layla to the audience: I did the one thing that made sense in my mind, which was all frozen because of him. I reached out and pinched his shoulder.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked.

“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s being violent right now.”

“Stop watching me! You aren’t supposed to know these things.”

“But I do and I’ll do whatever I want.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Stop flirting with me.”

“You are literally just perfect on paper. There has to be something wrong with you and—”

Jess cleared his throat and adjusted his pants. A slight blush tinted his cheeks. “I should warn you not to be too mean to me, it’ll have a certain inappropriate reaction.”

The laugh slips out of her before she could hold it back and Jess’s eyes light up in a way she’d never seen before.