Page 8 of The Playboy’s Playbook

Chapter Six

LAILA

“ S o let me get this straight. Matthew Foster came to your defense and threatened to beat the absolute shit out of Jason Webb for you,” Erica says for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, E. I’ve told you the story how many times?” I sigh and lean back into the swing on my mom’s patio.

“It’s kind of romantic if you think about it,” Erica swoons. She’s such a romantic, which says a lot because I’m a romantic.

I look out at the back yard and watch Nola run around, playing with the sprinkler. I pull my phone away from my ear and place it on speaker so I can take a couple of pictures of her to send to my mom.

“So, did you thank him for coming to your aid?” Erica asks.

“No,” I answer plainly.

“Laila!”

“For all I know, he could’ve done what he did because he wanted me to be another notch in the belt that’s holding up his Wrangler jeans. Matthew Foster is not a good guy, E. I know my worth and Matthew is not worth my time,” I explain.

“I’m not saying you don’t know your worth. But if a guy wants to finish a bar fight for you, let him. It’s the tell-tale sign of love if he’s willing to get banned from Brody’s and possibly arrested in your honor.”

“Who said anything about love?” I laugh at her assumption.

“You’ve had a crush on Matthew since you were eight. Don’t kid yourself and think that just because you haven’t seen him in a few years that the crush went poof,” Erica says.

“Friends and Matthew Foster do not go in the same sentence. He only wants one thing and that’s to have a quick fuck and go about his day.”

“You only know that because of the stories we heard about him when we were in school, which I should remind you was seven years ago. Maybe he’s changed, Laila.”

I shake my head. “Change and Matthew Foster do not belong in the same sentence, either.”

Erica laughs. “Keep telling yourself that. I gotta go, we still have the other side of the living room to paint. I’ll talk to you later. And Laila?”

“Hmm,” I respond.

“It might be worth being a bit nicer to Matthew if you see him again. He did save you from a night with Jason Webb.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up the phone. As I stare at Nola running through the sprinklers, I lose myself in my thoughts, thinking about the time when Matthew was a good guy.

May, 2009

It’s the end of the school year, which means I’m not a second grader! I’m so ready for third grade. I’m also ready to spend the summer at home, but I’m sad that I won’t see Matty for two months. He made second grade fun.

Matty and I are sitting on the swing set, waiting for our parents to pick us up from school. At the beginning of the school year, we made this swing set our spot.

During recess when the rest of the class would be running off, fighting over the slides, monkey bars, and see-saw, Matty and I walked over to the swings near the big shade tree. We enjoyed this corner of the playground because it was ours.

“I’m sad school is over,” I tell him, my voice just above a whisper.

“Me, too, Lala. But it’s okay. We’ll see each other next year,” Matty reassures me.

“But what if we aren’t in the same class?”

“It doesn’t matter, Lala. Listen.” He turns to me, his bright blue eyes shining in the sunlight. “Let’s make a promise right now before our moms get here.”

He extends his pinky to me and I link mine with his. “Okay, what kind of promise?”

“A promise that no matter what, we’ll always be best friends.”

I smile at him. “Even when we grow up and start driving?”

“Even when we grow up and start driving.”

We shake our interlocked pinkies and smile at each other when the sound of a horn gets our attention. We walk hand-in-hand to where our moms are parked and they get out of their cars.

“Too cute! Before we go, let’s take a picture of you two!” Ms. Maren says. She and my mom take out their cameras and point them at us. We wrap our arms around each other and smile as big as we can for the camera.

“Oh, that’s going in the yearbook when they graduate high school!” my mom says.

“Oh, I plan on showing it at their wedding when they get married,” Ms. Maren says, smiling down at us.

“Have a good summer!” my mom says to Ms. Maren and Matty.

“You, too! Come on, Matty. We have to go get Hannah.”

Matty starts walking towards his mom’s car and I walk with my mom to hers. Just when I’m about to get in, Matty calls out to me, running over to me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a deep hug. I wrap my arms around him, returning the hug.

“Best friends forever, Lala,” he whispers.

“Best friends forever, Matty.”