If All Else Fails by Theresa Mae

Author:Theresa Mae [Mae, Theresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Religion & Spirituality, Teen & Young Adult, Religious, Other, Religious & Inspirational Fiction, Inspirational
Amazon: B01BCP70TU
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Published: 2016-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I followed Layla into her bedroom and shut the door behind us. Distressed green paint on the walls paired with her antique yellow comforter made the room seem like it was pulled right out of a designer magazine, highlighting French country chic.

If not for the huge stereo system and all the pictures tacked to the walls, I’d think it was.

Layla tossed down her backpack and opened her blinds, inviting sunlight into the large room. “Make yourself at home.” She slid a few straight pins out of her hair scarf and slipped it off, revealing a brown bun tied with a thick fabric scrunchie. She tugged it out and let the length of her hair fall down her back.

Long, glossy waves fell past her shoulders, framing her face like some kind of shampoo commercial.

“Wow.” I blinked and rested my pack on the floor. “You look…different.”

She buried her fingers in her thick strands and tossed them around, breathing body back into it. “What the heck is that supposed to mean? Did I look horrible before?”

I sucked in a breath. “No. That’s not what I meant at all. You just—”

“I’m just playin’,” she said with a smile. “I know what you meant.” She giggled and threw herself on the bed, kicking her shoes off and wiggling her toes. She groaned. “I’m so exhausted.” Her arms fell limp, her hands hanging off either side of the mattress.

“Me too.” I sighed and unzipped my backpack, pulling out my binder.

The doorbell rang. Layla popped her head up, staring at her bedroom door. “Crap. I totally forgot Sally was coming over.”

“Is that bad?” I kind of liked Sally. She was cute and quirky. A breath of fresh air.

“No, not bad. But if I don’t catch her before my mom does, she’ll be sitting in front of an endless plate of maklube.” Layla hopped out of bed, cracked her bedroom door open, and stuck her head into the hall. “Sally, up here!”

“Coming!” The stomps grew louder until Sally swung open the door, almost hitting Layla in the hip with the door handle. “Ruby!” Sally threw out her hands and hugged me. I stood stiff, my arms at my side. She stepped back and clapped her hands together with several rings adorning her fingers. “Ready for your project presentation yet?”

I bit my bottom lip. “Not exactly.”

“She’s been too preoccupied dealing with boy issues,” Layla said in a playful tone.

Sally gasped. “You have a boyfriend?” I nodded, which prompted her to squeal. She laced her fingers and tucked her hands under her chin, her gaze trained on me. “Did you guys zing?”

I arched a brow. “Zing?”

Layla puffed out a breath of air. “Here we go.”

“You know, zing,” Sally continued, totally ignoring Layla’s obvious annoyance. “Like when your eyes meet, and suddenly you know in your heart of hearts, in the deepest part of your soul that you couldn’t live without each other?” She rested the back of her hand over her forehead and fell onto the bed with a theatrical sigh.

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