Becoming Layla Hale

Chapter 1

“Pick up already!” I hissed into my iPhone, which I pressed against my cheek.

As I waited for the call to go though to my mom I glanced over my shoulder. Under the light of a few street lamps, the entrance of my high school was slightly illuminated in the dark. There were only two students left, other than me, who hadn’t gotten picked up from the AP biology field trip to the science museum. And that was probably because we were supposed to have been taken home about thirty minutes ago.

I didn’t blame my mother for forgetting. She was especially busy these days with work and her new promotion. I just felt bad for Ms. Salwick, the nicest and most interesting science teacher, who had volunteered to stay back and wait for everyone to get home safely before she left the school.

My ears perked up at a noise from my phone, “Hello, this is Eve Holloway…”

I sighed in relief, she actually picked up, “Hey mom, it’s me I-“

“…I’m not available now, but leave a message and your name and number after the beep. I will get back to you shortly. Thank you.”

“Ugh!” I kicked a stray pebble on the ground. It was her answering machine. She was probably at some marketing meeting right now- her work had just gotten business from Gavin Guitars which was huge for my mom. Of course all that success came with late nights and lots of business trips out of state. It also meant me eating microwavable Healthy Choice meals every night for dinner (except for the rare occasion I eat toast or that boxed mac and cheese). 

I waited for the beep and passed on my message, “Mom, we got back from the field trip forever ago and you need to pick me up, okay? I’m at the front of the school and there’s like nobody here right now.” I took a deep breath, “Just come and pick me up.”

I lifted my phone off from my ear and pressed the red ‘end’ button. She was probably on a work call or something. Typical.

The air was starting to get cooler and I pulled my unzipped Northface fleece together to cover my chest as I walked back to the steps of the school.

Ms. Salwick gave me a sympathetic look as I plopped back onto the cold cement steps. Her shoulder length blonde hair was flying around slightly in the wind. She was young for a teacher. I couldn’t tell if she was in her late twenties or early thirties, but I knew better than to ask any lady for clarification. My mom always told me that you never ask a lady her age, weight, or how many karats are in her wedding ring. Although I was sure that Ms. Salwick would not be the type to get upset about something superficial like that.

“I’m so sorry about all this.” I told her as I actually zipped up my fleece and pulled my hands inside the sleeves, wishing that I had brought gloves. It was way too early to be this cold.

Ms. Selwick laughed, “It’s fine, Holly. I don’t mind. I just want to make sure everyone gets home safe.”

For most people, saying this would be just something to make someone feel better. Inside they would be cursing the world for making them stay so late at their work. But coming from Ms. Selwick, I knew that she genuinely meant it.

One of the other two students left, Perry Valero, came over to us then. He was wearing a similar expression to mine after my mom didn’t pick up the phone. Sure enough when he came close enough to really see him once he stepped under the light he held a cell phone in his hand. I noticed that his, unlike most of the phones in my school, wasn’t an iPhone. It was one of those older ones where you have to type 3 three times to text an ‘f’ instead of having a touch screen keyboard.

Perry was Italian with a capital I. He had it all- the dark hair that could probably be classified as black, the thick eyebrows, the tanned skin. He even talked with this hands all the time during class, making gestures once he got really interested in something.