Layla
The next day, Layla called her grandparents. Somehow, her grandfather had convinced Sharon to let Samira sleep at the family house most days of the week. Layla didn’t know how, but she got a vague sense there was some form of threatening involved.
“You’re turning twenty-one, right? She’s turning seventeen, so she’s going to be a senior soon and we didn’t want her to be constantly stressed.”
“But what’s the catch? How did she agree to this?” The silence that followed made her stomach turn. She knew her mother would not let her anger over that night go. She had to have something up her sleeve, another slap in the face.
“Baba, I know we agreed for you to visit her more often and spend time with us and Samira, but your mother’s condition was that Samira doesn’t interact with you.” That made sense. She thought about how her sister wasn’t able to call her unless she was out of the house, how she avoided answering questions these past couple of days.
“It’s temporary, I promise. Maybe we can manage a few trips to you just until she turns eighteen then she’ll be free to do whatever she wants.”
Layla had been too optimistic when she left their home. She thought perhaps now that the truth was out she could visit them more often, laugh with, spend time enjoying the family house. She never got the chance to do that before. She wanted to experience the sleepovers there; she wanted everything she missed.
“I would love to have you guys over,” she told him, clearing her throat. Her heart felt too heavy.
When she hung up, she received a text from Jess. Her first thought was that she should hide her sadness. He didn’t deserve to be with someone who was constantly sad, constantly panicking. Surely at some point it would be too much?
But she didn’t want to hide from him. She wanted to feel comfortable sharing these things with him. As soon as she picked up her phone, the doorbell rang. She frowned, heading to the window, expecting to see Mateo.
It was Onika. Crying and holding three kittens in her arms.
Layla squeaked as she opened the door.
“Kittens!” she took all three of them in her arms. They were a little dirty but seemed to be in good shape. “Sorry, why are you crying? Are you okay?”
“I was in my car listening to sad music and I had the window down and then I hear their tiny little meows and they were separated so I spent an hour looking for each of them and I couldn’t find the mom and… and…”
“Okay, okay, take a deep breath. They look like they were dumped, their nails are cut. You did the right thing. They probably wouldn’t have survived. It’s the cat distribution system.”
“The what?”
“The cat distribution system. You were chosen.” Onika’s tears dried.
“That’s a thing?”
“Yes. It’s like Santa, but for cat lovers, you know?”
“Oh, that makes a lot of sense, actually. But I don’t know how to take care of them.”
“It’s honestly easy. Let’s give them a bath first.”
Layla explained to Onika everything she would need while she showered the three-month-old kittens. Salem, who liked kittens, came in after they were dried and started licking them. Onika looked so overwhelmed, but after the kittens ate, two of them fell asleep purring in her lap and she looked eager to take them home with her.
Layla held the last one to her chest, the purring made the ache in her chest feel a little less heavy.
“Why were you crying?” Layla asked. “Do you want me to call someone?”
Onika looked surprised that Layla was initiating a conversation at all. They’d never been alone before and out of all of them, she was sure she and Onika were the only ones who barely knew each other.
“I called my sister today. The call wasn’t very light on the heart,” she murmured, stroking the kittens.
Layla paused for a moment. She thought about how in the past year if the Garcia siblings hadn’t forced their presence in her life, she would have been completely isolated, and then Jess, who was so patient and gentle as he made some space for himself in her life. She was grateful for them, but it was undeniable proof she had let her fears stop her from making connections.
She decided it was about time to get over it, to reach out a hand and see how it goes.
“I could make some food and you could tell me about it if you want?” she asked timidly. “I would love to talk about my sister as well. I think we might be in the same boat today.”
Onika smiled her usual bright smile, and Layla’s anxiousness started to melt away.
“I’d like that.”
They spent hours in that kitchen. They climbed on the kitchen counter and sat facing each other and then when they were done the plates were forgotten around them; they listened to each other, and it felt too good to vent.
Layla used to crave being someone’s priority so much, she craved the importance of it, to know that she was needed and wanted in someone’s life, and she had thought for the longest time that the only way she could be someone’s priority was if she ever found a way to get someone to fall in love with her.
“I wanted to be your friend as soon as I met you,” Onika admitted sheepishly. “I feel like as I grow older I lose some of my skills to make friends. It gets a little harder.”
“I thought you were so cool,” Layla told her.
Layla excused herself to the bathroom. She took out her phone to see what he texted before Onika got there.
For the first time ever, Layla didn’t lie or hesitate to answer truthfully. She didn’t feel burdened to share.
