Chapter 2: Layla

So much can change in a moment; a lot can change in seven years. Seven years. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen Jared. Seven years to the day, when I was dragged from his arms kicking and screaming. He fought so hard to keep me with him. He fought to the point that his violence made me shiver.

The sound of the sliding door opening pulls me away from my thoughts. The swing bench creaks as Evelyn sits down. The smell of her moisturizer on her olive-tone arms consumes me. Glancing up from my hands, I find her deep brown eyes watching me. She brushes long locks of black hair over her shoulder before smiling at me softly. "You don’t have to do this."

My heart skips a beat at how much I want to walk away from this, but I can’t. I can’t walk away, because Evelyn and Carl have packed up their lives and moved halfway across Ireland so I can go to the best college. I’m both nervous and excited at the prospect of starting over in a new place. This is my chance to start a new life and leave the past behind.

"Close your eyes and take a breath."

I do what Evelyn instructs.

"Tell me what you’re thinking about." Evelyn speaks in her calming voice. She’s a counselor. Some would say I’m lucky to have been adopted by her and Carl, but her voice of reason isn’t always welcome. Right now, though, I need her.

"Jared." His name causes Evelyn to stiffen beside me. Her reaction to him always confuses me. She makes it seem as if Jared was the one who hurt me, when he was the one who protected me. I drop my hands to my lap before opening my eyes. "I was thinking about him. How he always protected me."

Evelyn takes my hand in hers. "Now it’s my and Carl’s turn to protect you." She brushes a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear. I want to ask her why she gets uneasy when I talk about Jared, but I don’t get the chance.

Carl steps out into the backyard with a steaming hot mug of coffee in his hands. His soft green eyes and olive skin make him attractive, even for his fifty years. He keeps himself in shape. "It’s time to go." He shows us his watch. I can’t read the front face from this distance, but I nod and hop up from the bench. Evelyn stands behind me, placing both her hands on my shoulders. The slight squeeze fills me with the strength I need. I inhale a deep breath and swallow. "I’m ready," I say to Carl.

The smile he gives me is stuffed to the gills with encouragement.

I have spent seven years in therapy trying to erase every slap and thump, every word and memory, and now it’s all coming back. For some reason, starting over makes me go back to the start—to Bert and Ronnie. To Jared. Most times, I keep the knowledge to myself that I have never really let go of Jared. I keep that information bottled up.

I want to prove to Carl and Evelyn that they saved me—that they fixed me.

I gather my phone and bag, hurrying to the car before I change my mind. The click of it being unlocked has me climbing into the back. Evelyn and Carl both get in and glance at each other. They share a look for only a split second, and it has me sinking into the car seat. They don’t think I’m strong enough.

"I’m ready," I say once again, even as my throat threatens to close. Pulling down the visor, Evelyn glances at me in the mirror with a soft smile that wrinkles the skin around her brown eyes. "We know you are, sweetheart."

Carl starts the car and backs out of the drive. My gaze drifts away from Evelyn’s and to the neat rows of houses we pass. Each one is white, and each one is as perfect as the next. It’s a far cry from where I came from. Bert’s house was unkempt and dilapidated, a bit like its occupants.

"I could have driven," I say, staring out the window.

"We wanted to take you," Carl says. Silence filters in, and I’m waiting for someone to pierce the quietness. "If—and I’m only saying if, Layla—you change your mind, we can always turn back." The softness and kindness in his voice still startles me sometimes. Even after seven years of witnessing what a great man he is, I can’t erase the other twelve.

My childhood in foster care was a different time and a different life, one that I dip into for a reference, but I never stay there. "Thanks, Carl. But I want to do this. I mean, it’s only college." I force a wobbly smile.

Carl gazes at me in the rearview mirror; I catch my own reflection and look away. My white skin is ghostly.

Another glance is shared between Carl and Evelyn. I pretend I don’t see it as I clutch my bag tighter. They are such good people, and I’m the only child they adopted, not being able to have children themselves. I often wonder why people who deserve to have children can’t, and the ones who shouldn’t be allowed to have children can. Is it God’s plan, or is it just a flaw in the body? To me, it’s such a shame. Both of them are amazing.

The drive to Kingscourt College feels like it takes forever. I’ve made this journey a few times in the car that Carl and Evelyn had purchased for my nineteenth birthday only two weeks ago. The red starlet was a lavish gift, but one they both said was nothing. It isn’t new, but to me, it’s perfect. The car will take me to school so I won’t have to rely on Carl or Evelyn to drive me.

"I was thinking when we pick you up, we could stop and grab some Chinese," Evelyn says.

I tense as the large black iron gates loom in front of us. The castle that houses Kingscourt College is set deep in the background and grows larger as Carl continues to drive. I glance up at the monstrous structure where I will spend the next three years studying business.

"Yeah, that would be great." I swallow the enormous lump in my throat as we pull into the parking lot. Food is the furthest thing from my mind right now.

Carl knocks off the car, and I quickly grab the bottle of water out of my bag. After taking a nervous gulp, I replace the blue lid. Stop delaying. You can do this.

Repeating this in my head gives me the strength to climb out of the car. I hold on to the door and bend my head to look back in. Both Carl and Evelyn turn to look at me.

"I’m going to be fine," I remind them.

"You can get back into the car." Carl’s words have my head dipping as my heart feels like it’s shrinking.

"But we both know you’re strong enough to do this." Evelyn’s words wrestle a smile out of me as I look from her to Carl.

"You are." Carl smiles back, and I release the car door and close it. I don’t look back as I drag my bag across my shoulder. Other students gather around vehicles parked across from Carl’s car. They glance at me, but I’m dismissed quickly. I take a peek back at Evelyn and Carl, who are still sitting in the car watching me. I give them a little wave and walk across the vast open space that’s half-filled with cars.

The grass softens my steps as I leave the parking lot, and I crane my neck back to really take in Kingscourt College. The gray stone of the castle tells a story of time. The closer I get, the more scars I see along the stone. I walk along the footpath and trail my fingers across the harsh ridges. History intrigues me. It’s there for us to learn from. We never do, but it’s there all the same. My fingers leave the wall as two guys walk past me. One smiles, and I try smiling back. His mouth tugs higher, telling me I’m doing great. I look back at the parking lot, wanting Carl and Evelyn to see my progress already, but Carl’s Mercedes is gone.

I turn away and take the three steps up to the main red doors. One door is open, a black chock keeping it in place. The light inside the lobby is dim, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust.

Chairs are placed all along the wall, where people sit waiting. Some appear dressed more for an interview rather than college. My eyes collide with a girl whose lips remain in a thin, straight line as she watches my progress down the hall. Her high blonde ponytail is something I could never achieve with my hair. My long blonde strands are too fine to stay in place. I tuck a strand behind my ear and approach a large reception desk.

The air in the lobby is heavy and warm, and I find myself pulling at the blouse that Evelyn laid out for me. I matched it with my favorite black skinny jeans and black boots. I ditched the suit jacket she had left for me—it made me appear too formal—but seeing how everyone else is dressed, I regret leaving it on my bed.

"Take a seat." The receptionist doesn’t even look up as she speaks. When I don’t scurry away, she sighs. "Take a seat." She looks at me from under her red-rimmed glasses, and I step away from the desk and turn to find the occupants of the chairs watching me.

The black plastic chair I sit on is warm. My gaze collides with the blonde girl, her eyes narrow, and I look away and sit in silence as other students filter into the lobby and make their way to their classes. My attention is drawn to the door every time I hear a creak. Each time, my heart leaps as more students filter in and others leave. The receptionist stands and points at the first seat. Time moves slowly. I keep taking peeks at the blonde girl, and she smirks. When she’s called, she flicks her hair as she walks past me. She has the figure that most girls would die or starve for. She leans in on the desk, and the receptionist laughs.

When it’s my turn, I gather my bag and approach the desk. The receptionist gives me a brief second of her attention before sliding her glasses up on her head. "How can I help?"

"HI, I’m Layla Masters. I’m new here. I’m looking for the gym." I attempt a smile.

She slides the glasses back down on her face. "Down the hall. On your left you will see a set of Brown double doors. You’d better go before you’re late." Her words catch me off guard.

"Thank you." I leave the desk and follow her directions to the brown double doors. I take a final look at my attire before reaching for the handle. I didn’t bring my sports uniform in hopes that I could sit this one out. Taking gym class isn’t standard for Irish colleges, but Kingscourt has made this class mandatory.

I pull the door open to have every head turn in my direction. If that’s not bad enough, I’m very aware that all the men wear shorts, and the girls are in skirts.

"Get changed and join us on the floor," the coach shouts.

"I don’t have a uniform." My voice is low.

He shakes his head and walks closer to me. "There are some spare uniforms in the large green locker." The coach blows his whistle. "Hurry up. Let’s start."

I want to say no, but the words get lodged in my throat. The blonde girl I saw earlier smirks before leaning into a guy beside her. A guy whose brown eyes are so deep they appear almost black. But, in those eyes, I see a young boy—one I’ve dreamt of for the last seven years.

Jared.

I’ve found Jared. I’ve found home.