{ Chapter 7 } : The Ugly Monster Inside Of Me Layla wanted to talk. Her text came precisely an hour after school was out, and while I was in the midst of driving to my little brother's elementary school. Can we talk? Please, I hate this. Things ended on a bad not and I'm sorry. Let me explain. xx -L Currently I was waiting outside the school gates, leaning against my parked Toyota. The scorching end-of-august sun was beating down on me. A bead of sweat trickled between my breasts and, disgusted with myself, I pulled off my trendy utility jacket and shot it in the far side of my backseat. Leaving me in nothing but denim short shorts and a white tank top. I'd even traded my signature boots for a pair of Toms because of the boiling temperature. I thumbed a quick reply. Sure. Where do you want to meet? - A My phone vibrated in my hands with her response. Meet me at Marnie's Shack in half an hour? Milkshakes on me. xx - L I had just finished tucking my phone in my pocket when the bell rang and a flow of little kids flooded out through the main entrance. It wasn't too hard to spot my little munchkin; he was the shortest of the bunch and had a golden mop of massively curly hair that was even more curly and golden than my father's had been. Michael's blue eyes gleamed in excitement as he ran towards me, hunkered down by the weight of his superhero backpack. When he launched himself at me with a boyish giggle, my hands wrapped around his body and I spun him in several circles. He laughed as I peppered kisses all over his face. "Anna, stop it!" He still looped his arms around my neck to pull me closer, despite his protests. "You have cooties." Throwing my head back, I laughed as Michael kissed my cheek. "And who told you that?" "Kurt did," Michael said in all seriousness. "He told me all girls have cooties - and you're a girl. But that didn't stop Kurt from kissing Olly in the playground." I ruffled his hair. "Kurt kissed Olly?" My brother looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Yeah! Now they both have cooties! But since you're my sister, you don't have cooties - right?" "No, Michael." I smiled and put him back down. "I don't have cooties." Michael flashed me a toothy-grin. He was so tiny and small for his age that his teachers told me he occasionally got bullied from the bigger kids. I combed my fingers through his curls and ran my had along the curve of his cheek lovingly. "Then I don't have cooties either." His smile turned victorious as if he'd just uncovered a giant mystery. I drove back to our house and Michael filled the silence with his never ending animated chatter. He talked about everything from Kurt and Olly's awkward showdown-plus-kiss in the playground, to his favorite teacher, Miss Nora, to this new girl that he was crushing on. My mom was home so I didn't have to worry about Michael being alone. Soon after, I quickly made my way to Marnie's Shack, the place renowned for having the best burgers in town. Layla was seated at a booth by the window, her head hung low as she typed away on her phone. She hadn't spotted my car in the parking lot yet. Nor had she looked up from her phone when I entered the retro-themed bar-restaurant, the bell chiming above the entrance door catching everyone's attention but hers. A friendly waiter behind the counter gave me a wink and I smiled politely, before heading towards Layla. I sat down and her head snapped up in surprise, recognition dawning upon her features. A sheepish grin curved her mouth. "Hi." Her voice was low, far from the upbeat tone I was used, too. She actually looked tired as hell. "Hey." The silence between us was unbearable until the same waiter from earlier trudged over, presented himself as Bennett, and took our milkshake orders. "I'm sorry," she blurted out the second he was out of earshot distance, breaking the ice. My eyebrows hitched up. I had two options: make light of what she told me three nights ago, or give her a hard time redeeming herself. I went with the latter. "What part?" She ran her hand over her pale face. "Everything. Bringing up Joey Donald, Samuel Adams and the fact that... you're a cold hearted bitch who doesn't give anyone a chance." I fiddled with the straw of my mango-banana milkshake, before speaking really quietly. "You were right." And I was woman enough to acknowledge the fact. Her eyebrows reciprocated my earlier moves and she asked, "What part?" A wry smile touched my lips. "Everything. About Joey Donald - " It was still hard to talk about him. "- Samuel Adams, and the fact that I'm a cold hearted bitch who doesn't give anyone a chance." There was no one in the dinner, save for us and an old man reading the daily newspaper by a pink and yellow bar stool. Clatters of plates and utensils echoed in the place. No words were exchanged between Layla and I for a couple more minutes as we continued to sip our respective drinks. Our quiet breathing did the talking for awhile. "Fuck, Anna." She let out a whistling, defeated breath. "I'm so sorry." And I knew she was. Layla'd given me the dose of harsh reality that I was lacking. But I wasn't completely damaged goods, I had to remind myself. That night at Joshua Brown's party, I'd spoken to that cute guy Troy. It was a small, safe attraction I hadn't felt in a very long time, reminding me that I wasn't exactly emotionally unattached. Just to guys who brought out my flirty, rebellious and reckless side. I wanted to - needed to - stay away from them. "I know you are, Layla," I sighed, giving in and letting her off easy. "And I was closed off. After him and my dad... things shifted inside of me and my priorities changed. I'm a different girl than the seven year old you and Gabby became friends with. And I'm also a different girl than the sixteen year old you and Gabby used to drink and party with." "It's true," Layla whispered with a sad look and her voice took on a far-away tone. "And I definitely will never commit the mistakes that sixteen year old Anna committed." I held her gaze, conveying with my eyes what words couldn't. "But I'm still me, Layla. No matter how much I've changed." And that meant kicking to the curb my unholy attraction to Samuel freakin' Adams, because he reminded me too much of my initial mess to begin with. Layla's expression held the understanding I needed. "You'll always be our best friend, Anna. No matter what happens, or what has already happened."