Love On The Brain

Chapter 8

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐲

"You sure you don't want a fishing pole, Layla?" I ask as I fasten the bait — a pinkish worm — to the hook of my fishing pole. "I'm a hundred percent sure that I do not want one," she folds her arms over her chest.

At least I got peace of mind because she's wearing a lifejacket. She could never swim when we were in high school so I doubt she can now. She would've been gloating if she did know that's for sure.

"Still need a floatie I presume?" I chuckle. "None of your business, asshole," she rolls her eyes. "I'm worried about you, sweetheart, even 2 year olds can swim," I say, feigning concern. It's funny to get a reaction out of her.

"Even 2 year olds know when to shut their mouths, Zachary," she grumbles under her breath, glaring at me. "Well at least I got you onto a boat," I say triumphantly.

I feel something tugging on my fishing pole. I quickly pull it up and as I expected, a small fish flops onto it's side at Layla's feet of all places. Rest in peace little guy.

Her glare at me right now is colder than the Arctics could ever be. "Get this fucking thing, out of this fucking boat, right now," she says in her usual icy tone now laced with warning.

My gaze nervously darts from her to the fish. "I'm a high school English teacher, not a fisherman," I chuckle nervously. "Well you should've thought about that when you decided you wanted to go fishing, Sinclair," she glares even harder now.

I take the deepest breath I can muster and without thinking about it, I grab the squirming fish by the tail and fling it back into the lake.

Layla exhales as soon as that fish was out of her sight. She's scary sometimes but that makes me want to challenge her even more. That's just our dynamic.

"At least the bucket hat looks decent on you," I smirk, looking at the frog patterned bucket hat I bought her. "Are you trying to start something here, Zach?" she sighs, most likely annoyed by my consistent teasing.

"Let's get off this boat before your presence pollutes the lake," I say as I steer the boat to the dock. Layla quickly gets off without looking back at me.

As I'm stepping off, I slip on the damn water that fucking fish came with and I fall straight into the lake. What a fucking ego booster.

She immediately starts laughing like this is the funniest thing in the world to her. "You know, I thought chivalry was still around, Ashbourne," I mutter under my breath as I climb back onto the dock.

Layla throws a jacket over my shoulders, grabs my arm and starts walking to the campfire. It's already about 6pm, or something, so the students and camp master already started lighting the campfire.

She pushes me to sit down onto the log in front of the fire. Is she...taking care of me? I let out a soft chuckle under my breath and she instantly glares at me. Even the heat of the fire is nothing to warm her cold gaze.

"Something funny?" she asks coldly. "Nope, everything's good except for the fact that I fell into a lake," I say sarcastically.

All the students from our blue group sit around us with their friends and begin chatting whilst the camp master prepares dinner for everyone.

Layla is still giving me dirty looks — at this point, it's her signature move — but it's not aggressive. Her eyes though, are intriguing. They always have been to me. They always will be.