Something About Sarah

Chapter 25

Sarah

Ben was sitting at my kitchen table. A table we never used. And Layla was cooking. Which never happens. Tonight was getting too weird.

And my foot hurt.

Layla carried the pasta over to the table and we all sat. I tried to position myself as far away as possible from Ben, to avoid more awkwardness, but of course, my luck wouldn’t allow that.

“So, Ben, you’re leaving the day after tomorrow?” my mom asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“So, what are you going to do over in London?” my mother asked, not having been fully briefed by Layla.

“I’m going to be interning at my grandparents’ company. I don’t know exactly what they want me to do there, though.”

Then followed the awkward silence. At least, it was awkward for me.

“So,” I said, trying to get the conversation started again, but instead I think I made it more awkward. If that was possible.

"I have plans for us tomorrow night," Layla said to Ben.

He looked concerned.

"Last time you had a surprise for me," Ben accused, "You had gotten me a homicidal dog."

"Buster was sooo sweet! He just didn't like guys," she giggled.

"Brant needed six stitches because of Buster," Ben added. Layla mock-glared at him.

Every few minutes, Layla would subtly look from me to Ben. Crap. She found out.

“Look, Layla,” I began, and I motioned my hand towards her. I was going to continue, but instead, whatever fruity drink my mom had put in front of me caught on my hand, and splashed all over my shirt. And it didn’t help that said shirt was white and now partially see through.

“Well, that was intelligent,” Layla giggled. I just glared at her.

“Paper towels are in the pantry,” my mom said.

So, I grabbed my crutches and hobbled into the walk in pantry. I left my crutches outside though, because knowing my luck, I would knock down all the glass jars with them. I scanned the back of the closet, where my dad always put the paper towels. They weren’t there.

“I don’t see them,” I called out.

I heard my mom say something, but I didn’t catch what it was.

A few seconds later, Ben stepped into the small closet. It was barely bug enough to hold one person, let alone two people. Therefore, Ben was as far from and as close to me as physically possible.