into the wilderness - h.s.

twelve

"You mean you've never fûcked Jacob in the two years that you've been dating?!" Layla yelled as she tossed one of my shirts across the room. We were packing, getting ready to leave on the next leg of our hiking trip. "No wonder he was out banging other girls."

"Layla!" I playfully scolded the vocal African American. "It's the principle of the matter."

"But still honey you have to give the man some ass if you want him to stay."

"Oh my God Layla. Have you ever heard of waiting to have sex until you are married?"

"No one cares about that bullshít."

"Whatever," I threw her pajama footeis towards her. Lord knows why she decided to pack that thing; I never would. "Take you and your pajama footies and your banged ass somewhere else because I need to pack."

"I didn't know I brought this much stuff," she had given up on trying to zip her backpack closed.

"You might have to lose the pajamas," I say.

"Can I keep my banged ass?" she sarcastically pouts in my direction.

"No."

I duck as a pair of hiking boots came flying across the room in my direction. I moved out of the way just in time as they crash into the wall behind me. "Geez Layla. Don't take it seriously."

She is laughing from her spot on the floor. The whole thing is incredibly ridiculous and so out of character that soon I am on the floor laughing right along with her. For the first time in forever, I am having a good time. I'm looking forward to the future and what my life as a single woman has to offer. Rolling on the floor in laughter is one thing that I miss doing. I was always around Jacob and he hardly cracked a smile.

I realize now that life is an open door. I hadn't realized it at the time, but my life with Jacob was tearing me down. The funniest thing we did was a time when, shortly after moved, we went to a block party of sorts. We had drinks while we sat around on the lawn talking with the folks that lived in our building and the others around us. But I can't remember anything else. It's not supposed to be a struggle to remember fun things that I did with the love of my life at the time. I should be able to pull three or four right off the top of my head. But I can't. And that's a reason why I've decided to move on.

"What the hell was that?"

I look up and see Harry's head peaking through the door. He steps farther into the room and I notice he is only wearing his boxer shorts and a white v-neck. When Layla and I see him we immediately stop laughing. We try to keep our faces sincere, but failed miserably.

"A ... shoe ... " I say between breaths and laughter. "Layla was ... and I was ... "

"She hasn't ... with Jacob ... and ... " she pauses to take an even larger breath. "She threw my ... and I ... "

"We ... " I slap my hand to the ground and collapse in another fit. The way we were telling the story was making me crack up even more.

"And then I ... threw my shoes ... Harper ducked ... hit the wall ... " Layla was still struggling, much like me.

"And now ... down here ... " I was almost crying now. Harry had moved fully into the room and was standing above us with his arms crossed over his chest. He had an amused look on his face, like he was looking at a group of theater majors trying and failing hysterically to solve a long algebraic problem.

"And the way you are dressed ... I just ... " Layla pointed a limp finger at Harry. I was having so much fun.

"Girls, the house is on fire." Harry's face is dead pan.