Quiet Angel (4 page)

Layla sat on
the back patio, hoping his parents didn’t call her grandmother. She couldn’t blame them if they did. They’d walked inside, finding her dressed in their son’s clothes, her own clothes on a chair, their son on top of her on the sofa. It looked so bad, such a horrible first impression.

They’d asked her to wait outside while they spoke with their son. She couldn’t see his parents, but she could see Gage through the glass windows, the tension on his face, the concern in his blue eyes. And she could hear every word.

“It’s very simple, Gage. You broke our rules,” his father said. “So you’re grounded for a week.”

“Dad!”

“You aren’t to step one foot off that back patio.”

“Dad, nothing happened!”

“Because we came home,” his father said. “Otherwise, we all know what would’ve happened.”

“Layla’s not like that.”

“We don’t know this girl,” his father said.

“I do.”

Layla smiled.
It’s sweet that he thinks so.

Gage looked to his mother for help. “This isn’t fair! I’m 18!”

“I want to believe you, honey,” his mother said, “but my goodness, her clothes were off.”

“We got caught in the rain!” Gage said. “She was freezing, so I gave her some dry clothes. She changed in the bathroom, I swear!”

“She shouldn’t have been in here in the first place,” his father said.

Gage rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. He’d never given his parents any reason not to trust him, but they continued to ride him hard. Maybe it was some kind of preparation for the Naval Academy. Or maybe it was because his parents, after having his sister, tried for 10 years to have him, so they were always protective of their “miracle baby,” never wanting him to get in trouble.

“The sofa?” his mother asked.

“Nothing,” Gage said, turning to look at Layla for a moment, waiting patiently on the porch for her release from prison. “I haven’t even kissed her.”

“You really like this girl?” his mother asked. Gage nodded his head.

“You’re going off to school in a few months,” his father said, and Gage nodded again. “You still broke our rules.”

“I just want. . . .” Gage started then looked down.

“What do you want, honey?” his mother asked.

Gage could tell his mother was softening. She was his ticket to freedom. He mustered all of the sappy emotion he could, puppy dog eyes, quivering lip, a dramatic pause, to make his case. He had one chance, and this was it. “I just want to see her tomorrow,” he said, pushing out a tear, “and everyday after until I have to leave. Please! I can’t not see her for a whole week.”

“Maybe we can. . . .” his mother started.

“Sorry, Gage,” his father interjected. “Rules are rules. One week.”

“This is ridiculous and so embarrassing,” Gage said and looked out at Layla.

She offered him a tight, sad smile, kicking herself for putting Gage in this position. She never should’ve gone inside, never changed clothes, never teased him on the sofa. Perhaps it was penance she now had to watch this uncomfortable family drama. Perhaps it was penance for coming to St. Simons Island in the first place, bringing her hidden drama across the country, calling her grandmother just days before showing up, imposing herself on an elderly woman whose entire family—except for Layla—long ago decided to shut her out.

“What do I always tell you, Gage?” his father asked.

“Real men think with their hearts,” Gage mumbled, “not their dicks.”

“Right, and I just want to make sure you do.”

Layla didn’t like the conversation but thought his father’s advice was solid. The man and his wife obviously loved their son and didn’t want him to make bad choices. She couldn’t fault them for that. Gage gave her a nod then walked to another room.

Layla couldn’t see or hear anything. She thought for a moment that might be it, the last time she saw him for a week. She fiddled with the leather rope cord around her neck, suddenly worrying it could be even longer than that. Maybe his parents wouldn’t let him see her ever again.

She thought to bolt back to her cottage, to talk to her grandmother before Gage’s parents made a call. She couldn’t risk her grandmother calling her parents back in Houston. Then she heard voices again.

“Five minutes, Gage,” his father called out.

“Yes, sir,” his son said with a hint of sarcasm. Gage came through the patio door, shaking his head, about to apologize when Layla sprang towards him.

“Are they calling my grandmother?” she cried.

“No,” Gage said, handing her back her wet clothes. “I had to grovel, but they won’t.”

Layla exhaled. “I’m sorry you got in trouble. I knew it was a bad idea for me to be in your house when they weren’t home.”

“It’s no big deal. They’re strict and overprotective. They think I’m going to be president one day or some shit.”

She shrugged and tied her wet hair into a messy bun. “I guess I should go.”

“No way. I’ve got four minutes left.”

“I don’t want to get you into more trouble.”

“It was worth it,” he said, lightly taking her hand.

Layla felt her dimples explode, her heart fluttering, then remembered he was grounded. “Can you not ever see me again? Your parents must think I’m a slut.”

“I told them you were a nice girl.”

“I don’t want them to think that I’m. . . .” The words got caught in her throat. “I’m not like that. I’m not.”

“Of course not,” he said and wrapped his arms around her, smiling slightly inside at how nervous he was to hold her hand a few hours ago. And here he was holding her as she clung to his shirt and buried her head. “No one thinks that, Angel.”

“They must,” she said, pulling away and wiping her face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Then we’ll just have to prove them wrong.”

“How?”

“My dad grounded me for the rest of the week, so. . . .”

“I thought he said for a whole week,” she interrupted.

“You could hear?” Gage asked.

“Not everything.”

“Good. He started off grounding me for a week, but I talked him down to three days.”

“That’s not so bad. Only three days.”

“I’m a good negotiator. My dad and I are actually really close. He loves to fly as much as I do,” Gage said. “But there’s a catch. They said if I like you and want to spend time with you, then they need to get to know you. So you’re grounded with me.”

“Your parents grounded me?”

“Sort of,” he said, flashing a smile. “They said we can see each other while I’m grounded, but only if you come hang out here with us.”

“
Us
?”

Gage wrinkled his nose. “I know it’s weird. They do strange shit sometimes. But will you?”

“Hang out with you and your parents?”

“Yeah,” he said and took her hand again. “I know they’re going to love you once they get to know you. It’s going to be lame hanging out with them, but it’ll only be for a few days.”

Layla bit the inside of her mouth. This was the craziest punishment in the whole world—Gage’s parents were punishing him by forcing him to spend time with them. It was actually kind of funny.

“Gage?” his father called out from inside.

“Time’s up,” Gage said. “I’ve got to get inside.”

Layla took a step towards him, got on her tiptoes, and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

*

For the next
three days, Layla came to his beach house after yoga. She and Gage spent the mornings playing cards and boardgames with his parents and drinking ice cold lemonade and sweet tea. In the afternoons, she and Gage would watch a movie or listen to music together on the sofa in the middle of the living room, open to the rest of the house, without the comfort of a blanket. And at night, as if some reward, they’d sit out on the back patio and watch the sunset, where it was just them, together, alone—though under the eye of one parent or the other inside.

Gage thought the whole “grounding” thing sucked, but Layla didn’t think it was so bad. She knew it could’ve been worse, much worse. His parents could’ve told her grandmother, and then her parents probably would’ve found out. That would’ve ruined everything. Her summer would’ve been over. But instead she got to hang around a cool guy and his cool parents, who quickly found her sweet and well-mannered and the smartest girl their son ever hung out with. He knew he had his parents’ stamp of approval when his mother took a picture of them and put it in a frame next to his bed.

But Gage wanted some time alone with Layla. He needed it. The kiss on the cheek seemed a lifetime ago, and the high from her lips had long since worn off. Sure, it was great to sit with his arm around her in the living room or to hold her hand on the patio under the stars, but it was time for more—more touching, more kissing, and whatever else she’d let him get away with.

So when the “grounding” was over and the sun rose the next morning, Gage dashed to the kitchen, took the car keys off the counter, and hustled towards the front door. He placed a hand on the door knob, some long-awaited privacy in sight, when he heard his father’s voice at the top of the stairs.

“Son, a word.”

Layla gripped the
golf club in her hands and wiggled her butt ever so slightly, getting ready to knock the ball through some metal posts then off a large triangle angled towards the final hole. Her preparation was solid, but she’d proven herself to be terrible at putt-putt. It took her at least 10 strokes to finish every hole, not to mention she twice hit her ball into a pool of water and once far off into the parking lot.

But she didn’t care. And neither did Gage. He liked that she was terrible. The more strokes it took her, the more chances he had to see her stand over the ball in her sundress, bend over, and shake her ass a little. He was certain he had the best view in all of Georgia. Stone Mountain and Centennial Olympic Park had nothing on Layla preparing to hit a golf ball.

This time, Layla narrowed her eyes to line up her putt then jerked her hands forward—hard, fast, on the verge of sending the ball into orbit—but completely whiffed and spun around in a pirouette. When she stopped spinning, her whole face lit up, and she cracked up in a fit of laughter. Gage did the same.

“What’s the score?” she asked.

He looked down at the score card. “It’s close,” he said, though he’d stopped recording numbers on the third hole.

“If I get a hole-in-one, then I win, OK?” She set herself for another swing.

“Sure,” he said, “but I’m not too worried.”

She raised an eyebrow towards him. “Let’s not forget who the Scrabble queen is.”

“Just putt,” he said.

Layla lined up again and pulled her club back. When she came forward this time, the club flew out of her hands and onto an adjacent hole. “Oh God!” They looked at each other for a second before laughing together again. “I’m so bad.”

“But you are so cute.” He scooped up her club then took her hand. “Let’s get out of here before you hurt someone.” Gage led her to a little bench before returning their clubs to the front desk. He returned with a cold can of soda and found her twirling her angel wing pendent fixed to the leather cord.

“You wear that necklace everyday,” Gage said, handing her the soda and taking a seat beside her.

“My father gave it to me years ago,” Layla said and took a sip. “He told me it’s bad luck to take it off unless you give it to someone you love, like he gave it to me.”

“He’s back in Houston with your mom and brother?”

“Half-brother,” Layla said, placing the soda on the bench between them. “We don’t really get along.”

“Families can be a pain. I got a long lecture from my dad this morning.”

“About?”

He smiled. “You.”

“Me? I don’t want to cause problems!”

“It’s not that,” he said. “They like you. It’s just, uh, the usual stuff.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His mouth suddenly dry, Gage eyed the soda between them. He didn’t think he could take a sip, not after she had. He’d be fine with it, but she might not. He wasn’t sure they were at that stage in their relationship yet. “I broke up with someone a month or so before graduation, and they don’t want me getting attached before I have to go off to school.”

“That was the big lecture?”

“Yeah, they don’t get it at all.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “They’re just watching out for you.”

“It’s more than that. I’m about to go off to college, do exactly what my dad has wanted me to do. I won’t know a single person. The work is going to be crazy—physically and mentally. The next 10 years of my life are planned out, and they want to talk about dating.”

“How long were you with your girlfriend?”

“About a year,” he said.

“Did you love her?”

“No,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I liked her, though.”

“Then why did you break up?”

“Just wasn’t working out.”

“Sounds mysterious,” she teased. “Did you cheat?”

“No, of course not.”

“Did she?”

“No, there was no cheating,” Gage said and looked down at his feet. “There wasn’t much of
anything
.” He closed his eyes after completing the sentence, wishing he could have it back.