Let Me Explain

T W E N T Y S E V E N

Easton Sandoval

SEEING as the call went straight to voicemail again, I took my phone off my ear and turned it off before tossing it on my bed.

I had called Layla over a hundred times and sent a hundred messages at this point. She wouldn't answer me at all.

Partly, I knew it could be that everything she had owned was taken away from her.

But the most important part was what happened between us the day before.

Nothing had happened between Salem and I. It was taken out of context and it looked wrong.

I never even knew that she was coming over either. I hadn't even know how she had gotten inside.

It was at a random time. I was changing out of my practice clothes from football when she walked inside of my room.

Everything between us always revolved around the same topic. She would try to force herself back into my life and I would deny her offers.

That was the issue that happened the day before. She wanted the old relationship we once had back. Once I made her leave, I saw Layla standing in the hallway.

It was clear that she had watched the whole scene.

I still remember the way she looked at me.

I repeatedly tried to explain to her the real situation, but she wouldn't hear me out.

She wouldn't let me speak.

Now we had broken up over miscommunication. It was the worst part and it tore me to pieces.

I wanted her to know the truth.

But I didn't know how else to make her listen to me.

I slid my phone into my pocket and pulled my backpack over to one shoulder. Leaving my room, I walked downstairs to head into the kitchen.

My parents were already inside. My dad had his tool box out on the counter while he looked inside. My mom was opening a few envelopes that rested over the stack of mail on the counter.

Weston was sitting at one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Cereal was in a bowl in front of her and she was already dressed for school.

I was the last one up.

She looked over, sensing new movement entering the kitchen. Her brown eyes met mine for a long second. No words were exchanged between us for the full length.

She broke her gaze away from mine and continued to eat her cereal.

"Que te pasa?" My dad glanced up momentarily from his work tools that was laying across the granite counter. He had noticed the small, unusual encounter.

What happened?

"Nothing." I answered while walking over to the fridge. I pulled open the door and took a water bottle out.

My mom was still focused on the mail. She hadn't caught the anomalous situation that my dad had.

She would've pressed more into it than he did.

"By the way," She finally looked up from the mail. "Weston, you have to take your brother to school today. His truck is down again."

Weston paused from eating. "Just my luck, right?"

My mom raised a brow, lightly confused by the hidden meaning behind her statement. "Your dad is going to try to fix it by tomorrow. Hope that's okay with you."