Page 56 of False Assumptions

Chapter Twenty-Four

A knock sounded on Layla’s door, and then it pushed open, revealing Alyssa carrying a glass pan covered in foil with a plastic grocery sack dangling from one hand.

“Here. Take these. Careful, the pan’s still a little warm. I have a pizza in the car. Be right back.” She shoved everything into Layla’s hands and was out the door before Layla could react.

Bemused, she set the sack and pan on the coffee table and peeked under the foil. Brownies. And in the sack, two pints of ice cream—Haagen Dazs salted caramel for her and rocky road for Alyssa. She took the ice cream into the kitchen, coming back into the living room in time to see Alyssa elbow her way through the door with a pizza box in one hand and a two liter of Dr. Pepper in the other.

She strode past Layla and set everything on the dining room table with a flourish. “Pepperoni and mushrooms from Mangiamo’s with brownies and ice cream for dessert.”

“You made brownies?”

Alyssa brushed her brown hair out of her face, her hazel eyes twinkling. “Well, from a mix. But it’s the triple chocolate kind, so who cares, right?”

“Ha. Right.” Layla got out plates and glasses, and they sat down to eat. Normally they’d eat on the couch at the coffee table, but that reminded her too much of all the times she’d done that with Evan. So she’d been using her dining table more for its intended purpose the last two weeks instead of just a flat surface to stack things on.

Alyssa chewed in silence for a few minutes, studying Layla the whole time. Getting annoyed, Layla glared at her. “What?” she demanded around a mouthful of pizza.

Alyssa dropped her gaze, taking a drink of her soda before meeting Layla’s eyes again. “How’re you holding up?”

The pizza lodged in Layla’s throat when she tried to swallow. The question caught her by surprise, even though it shouldn’t have. She knew why Alyssa had insisted they have a girls’ night tonight. But she’d thought the questions would wait until after they’d eaten. Or at least gotten through the first slice.

With a quick drink to help wash down her food, Layla wrinkled her nose. “Fine.”

Alyssa tilted her head to one side, chewing slowly. “Nope. Don’t buy it. Try again.”

Layla sighed. “What do you want me to say? I’m still heartbroken? Of course I am. It’s only been two weeks. I thought—“ She swallowed again, this time against the emotion rising in her throat. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter what I thought. But I still have to see him in World Lit. He keeps trying to get a seat next to me, and it’s been hard to make sure all the seats near me are taken before he gets there every time.”

“That sounds rough.” Alyssa gave her a sympathetic look. “Do you plan on talking to him?”

Shaking her head, Layla put her pizza down, her appetite vanishing. “No. Why would I torture myself that way? I wish I didn’t have to see him at all. I don’t want to talk to him.”

When Alyssa didn’t ask any more questions, Layla picked up her pizza again. Maybe that would be it for the night and they could talk about something else. Like Alyssa’s life. Or the upcoming poetry slam Layla would be reading at. Or how the streets were full of potholes. Or the trash collection schedule for the apartment complex. Anything else. Anything at all.

“So Darren’s got this friend at work—“

Layla let out a loud groan. “No.” She pointed at Alyssa. “No, Alyssa. You are not setting me up with one of your husband’s friends.”

“Why not? I’m not saying you should start a new relationship or anything. Just some dates. Give you something to take your mind off Evan. Have a good time. Help you moveon. We could even go on a double date. It could be fun!”

“Absolutely not. Not even a maybe. I’m still getting over Evan. I don’t want to start dating someone else. Not even for fun to help me get over him.”

Alyssa’s face turned sad. “I’m sorry. I just worry about you all alone here with only books to keep you company.”

“I like my books. They’re good company. They don’t ever let me down, and they don’t try to set me up on blind dates.” She gave Alyssa a pointed look.

Holding up her hands in surrender, Alyssa looked around. “At least tell me you’re doing more than holing up in here and moping all the time.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “I’m not moping. Yes, I’m sad. But I still go to work. I went to a movie last night with some people from my poetry workshop. And I’m helping organize the poetry slam, so that, on top of homework, is keeping me busy. I promise I’m not sitting here alone, crying into my cereal.”

“Okay, good.” Alyssa paused, then asked, “So how’re the poems for the slam coming? Do you have your pieces picked out yet?”

Shifting in her seat, Layla looked down at her pizza, picking a mushroom off and popping it in her mouth. “Um, yeah. Dr. Moore is having me read one of the things I turned in last week.”

“Oh? What’s it about? Is it part of the series you were planning on doing about your grandmother?”

Layla picked at her pizza some more. “Um, no. It’s about, just, y’know. Stuff that’s been going on. My feelings about life. Like that.”

Alyssa’s face had morphed from polite interest to unconcealed horror. “He’s making you read something you wrote about Evan?”

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