Page 4

Layla

“Mami, I can’t come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You know that.”

Didn’t we just have this conversation a few weeks ago?

“I know, baby, but we miss you so much,” Mami whines.

“Well, believe it or not,” I tell her sarcastically, “there are these things called cars and airplanes that actually can go from Texas to North Carolina. Not just North Carolina to Texas. The road goes both ways.”

“Don’t you take a tone with me, young lady. It’s harder for six people to travel than it is for one person. It just makes sense for you to come here. Plus, you know the holidays are more than just us. Abuelo and Abuela, the whole family…” Mami reminds me.

I roll my eyes so hard, I’m afraid they might just get stuck. She’s being so unreasonable.

“Listen, I can come home for one or the other but not both. And I really want you guys to come here sometime soon. Can we please compromise on this?” I’m practically begging at this point.

“I hear you, mija.” She sighs. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long week with your sisters. I don’t remember you being this much trouble at thirteen.”

“That’s because Marcos and Rafael paved the way for me. They were so awful at thirteen that anything I did was practically angelic.” I grin thinking about Teagan claiming to be an angel.

“You’re funny.” She snorts. “Okay, listen, I have to get off of here. Let me know which holiday you want to come home for, and we’ll buy your ticket, okay?”

“Well, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” I tell her. “Thanks.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” Mami says suddenly. “Marcos and Rafael might be bringing their girlfriends to Christmas. Maybe you’ll have a plus one this year?”

“Ugh. Mami. Please stop.” I groan.

It’s never going to end. Resisting the urge to bang my head against the wall, I flop onto my couch and stare at the ceiling. What would it take for Mami to understand that my worth doesn’t depend on having a significant other? Sure, I’d love to find someone to share life with, but my goal in life isn’t to marry and have a litter of kids. I love children and hope I’ll be a mother someday, but I’m not in any rush. I’m twenty-three for crying out loud. I would have been finished with college already, but like Norah, I took some time off after high school to figure out exactly what I wanted to pursue. Why on earth would I want to add marriage and babies to the mix? Classes and day-to-day living are hard enough without extra mouths to feed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. For now.” Mamá sighs heavily. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yep,” I say blandly. “Love you, Mami.”

“Love you too, mija.”

Growling loudly into the air, I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes. I’m exhausted. This last week of classes really took it out of me, and work has been getting busier with the holidays around the corner. I actually have tonight off and don’t plan on doing anything. My sweats and wine sound pretty good right now. Rising from the couch, I saunter into my small galley kitchen and take a wine glass from the cabinet. Before I can even open the bottle, my phone dings from the couch. I’m fully expecting it to be a message from my mother badgering me some more, but it’s a group text.

Norah: Hey, who’s up for a slumber party at my house tonight? Wine and junk food? Girl talk?

Amelia: You KNOW I’m in! I’ll bring beer!

Charlie: Yeah, girl, I’m down. I’ll bring chips and dip!

That actually sounds like a good time. And I won’t have to change or worry about driving, since Norah lives right next door.

Layla: Holy shit, I’m actually free tonight!

Amelia: Myra, cancel whatever plans you have going on and make it a point to be here! I WILL drag your ass here if I have to!

Myra: Okay, okay, calm your tits. I’ll be there.

I chuckle at Myra’s response as I rummage through my fridge and cabinets to see what food and drink offerings I can provide tonight. I grab two bags of chips and decide to take the bottle of wine I was about to open. Setting them aside, I change into my favorite Hocus Pocus sweatpants and black hoodie. I could live in hoodies. After locking up, I walk the ten feet to Norah’s house and knock once before stepping inside.

“Hey, it’s me,” I call out, not wanting to scare Norie.

“Coming!” I hear her call from the enclosed patio where she keeps all of her sewing stuff. Norah is the costume designer for the UNCW Drama Department and is insanely talented. The play they’re currently working on is a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Norah’s designs are brilliant. She’s been begging me to join the makeup team for ages, but I always find a reason not to do it. Honestly, I’d love to join. That’s what I want to do with my future—be a makeup artist—and stage makeup is a ton of fun to do. But in the back of my mind, all I hear is my mother telling me how it’s not a realistic or lucrative career choice.

“Hey, sorry,” Norah says, walking into the room while putting her auburn curls in a messy bun on top of her head. “I was just putting the last of my supplies away.”

“You’re good,” I tell her, giving her a quick hug. “I brought wine and chips!”

“Yay! Please tell me the chips are jalapeno Cheetos.”

Laughing, I pull one of the bags out, revealing that I did, in fact, bring the goods. The two of us could put away a family-sized bag of jalapeno Cheetos in one sitting if we put our minds to it.

“You’re so good to me.” Norah beams. “I’m so glad you’re off work tonight!”

“You and me both, sister. This week has been brutal. Apparently, old people like to stock up for the holidays starting in October. My manager has already set up a Christmas display. What is it with America and starting the Christmas frenzy so early?” I ask, scrunching my nose in disgust.

“Right?” Norah says, turning to pull random items out of her fridge. “Mom and I always gave Halloween and Thanksgiving their due diligence before bringing out the Christmas tree. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas, but I love the others just as much. Speaking of, are you going home for the holidays?”

“Ugh, I guess.” I sigh heavily. “My parents asked me to come home for both holidays this year, which is ridiculous. I’ve been begging them to come here, and they won’t do it.”

Norah scoffs. “That is ridiculous. I don’t understand why they do that. You’d think they would want to come and see how you’ve settled in and stuff.”

“Exactly,” I say, pointing a finger at Norah. “But their excuse is always that it’s easier for one person to travel than six of them. Which is true, but it’s not like the twins are babies anymore. They’re teenagers.”

“Well, if you do end up here alone for the holidays, you know I’m free!”

“I know. And I love that,” I tell her sincerely. “I’ll probably go home for Christmas so I can stay longer. They did offer to buy my plane ticket, though, so that’s a plus! And of course, my mother started asking if I was bringing anyone with me.”

Norah cringes. “I’m sorry, Lay. Maybe you should find some random guy to go with you just to keep the conversation from constantly falling back on you.”

“Ha!” I bark a laugh. “Tempting.”

We chat until the rest of our friends arrive. There’s an overabundance of junk food ranging from chips to charcuterie, soda to wine. Norah pushed all of the furniture back against the walls so we could all sit on the floor, surrounded by pillows and blankets.

“It was the worst day ever !” Amelia exclaims, recounting her day at work as she deftly winds her long, blonde hair into a bun on the top of her head. “Not only were we slammed but also short-staffed. I’m so glad I have the next few days off.”

Myra has been uncharacteristically quiet, perched beside Amelia. I know there’s been tension between her and Norah, but it isn’t like her at all to not be a part of the conversation at all. She’s been nursing a bottle of water and occasionally nibbling on a cracker. Out of everyone in the group, Myra is the one I spend the least amount of time with. Our personalities are just so different, and we have nothing in common other than being in the same friend group.

“Norah,” Amelia continues, a sly grin spreading across her face, “has something she’d like to share with the class.”

Norah throws her a glare and blushes so violently, her face is almost as red as her hair.

“I hate you,” she says playfully before taking a deep breath. “So…Eamon might have spent the night last night.”

The room goes silent for about half a second as we let that sink in, before everyone explodes into gasps and cheers.

“Our little Norah is all grown up now!” Charlie cheers, raising her glass of wine in a toast before downing it.

“Shut up,” Norah says, burying her face in her hands. “I’m still me!”

“Of course you are, honey,” Amelia cuts in. “But now you have a fine piece of man warming your bed!”

“Where is the man in question tonight?” I ask around a mouth full of chips .

“He had a paper to finish, so I’m assuming he’s at his place,” Norah says pointedly and tosses a grape at me. “With Teagan.”

I blush furiously and glare at her.

“Wait, what’s going on with Teagan?” Amelia blurts, shooting a wink at Norah. “Are you two a thing?”

“No!” I yell, just as Norah sings out, “Yes!”

“Norah Grady, I hate you with the fire of a million suns! Nothing is going on between me and Teagan!”

“Not yet, anyway!” She laughs. “But it’s only a matter of time. You can cut that sexual tension with a knife!”

I roll my eyes. “Stop it. We’ve literally only been around each once.”

“Yes,” Norah agrees, “but there is absolutely no denying the attraction between the two of you.”

“He’s super hot, so good job, Layla!” Myra chimes in with a little more vigor.

Taking a sip from my wine glass, I nod. I can’t, and won’t, deny it. “Yeah, of course he’s hot. But that doesn’t mean anything is going on.”

“Psh. Whatever you say. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Lay. There’s nothing but interest there,” Norah says, waggling her eyebrows.

Rolling my eyes again, I say, “He’s probably just a flirt like Rowan.”

Norah laughs. “ Nobody flirts like Rowan does. I’ve never seen Teagan flirt with anyone, actually.”

My heart thrills at the thought of being singled out by him. I briefly entertain the idea of bringing him to my family’s Christmas dinner and introducing him as my boyfriend, but I dismiss it just as quickly. Not only is he definitely not my boyfriend, but I’m not about to subject him, or any man, to a Diaz family Christmas.