Battle Scars

Chapter 12:

Jay

It's late when Leah and her friend, Layla, finally leave the bar. I watch them through the window, Layla's arm looped through Leah's, both of them laughing about something that I can't hear but that seems to have lifted whatever weight Leah's been carrying all night. I don't know what it is about her, but she's got me tangled up in knots I can't seem to loosen.

"Dude, you're staring." Ki's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I realize I'm still standing at the bar, empty glass in hand.

I clear my throat, putting the glass down. "Just making sure they get back alright."

Ki raises an eyebrow, but there's a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He's not buying it, but he lets it go, turning back to the conversation with Jared and Ash. They're all talking about something trivial—plans for the weekend or maybe some new local band, I'm not really listening. My head's still too full of questions that won't stop spinning.

Leah isn't what I expected. She's guarded and quiet most of the time, but then she'll say something blunt or make a face that cracks the facade just enough for you to see there's something more going on underneath. Something heavy. Nate warned me about that—about the things she's been through, though he didn't give details. But every now and then, when she lets her guard down, I catch glimpses of a person who isn't just surviving but trying to figure out what living means now.

And Layla... Well, Layla's another mystery, but one that seems a lot simpler. She's got that easygoing confidence, the kind that makes people feel like they've known her forever. And the way she brought out that real laugh from Leah—one that wasn't forced or tinged with bitterness—it threw me. Leah's so used to being cautious that seeing her let go for even a few minutes felt like watching someone finally come up for air.

But then, I think about what Nate said before she got here. About how Leah's been through stuff no one should have to face. I'm not one to pry, especially not with someone who seems to hold her past close like it's made of glass. Still, I can't shake the feeling that there's a lot more to her story than I'll ever know.

As the rest of the group starts to pack up and head out, Ki claps me on the back. "We heading home, or you got plans?"

"Yeah, let's go," I reply, trying to snap out of my thoughts. I don't have plans, and if I did, they'd only be an attempt to distract myself from the weird feeling in my gut that's been there since the moment Leah showed up.

We walk back to the apartment complex, Ki rambling on about some concert he wants to check out next week. I nod along, half-listening, but my mind keeps drifting to the same place. Ki keeps giving me these side glances like he's waiting for me to say something, but he's not pushing. He knows me well enough to let me sort my shit out in my own time.

When we reach the apartment, I spot Nate's car already parked in its usual spot. He must have gotten home from his shift not long after we left the bar. Ki heads straight to his place, and I unlock the door to our apartment, half-expecting to find Nate passed out on the couch like usual.

Instead, I hear low voices coming from the kitchen. Leah and Nate are sitting at the table, a nearly empty bottle of wine between them. Nate looks exhausted, leaning back in his chair with his eyes half-closed, but Leah's sitting up, arms crossed over her chest like she's holding herself together by sheer force of will. There's something almost protective about her posture, like she's trying to shield Nate from whatever thoughts are running through her head.

She glances up when I walk in, her expression hard to read. For a second, I feel like I'm intruding on something private, but then Nate looks over at me and grins. "Hey, man," he says, his voice slurred with exhaustion or wine, or maybe both. "How was the bar?"