Forever Layla: A Time Travel Romance (2 page)

“Was that the friend you came with?”

“No
. Another, different, very important friend brought me here.” She grinned at me like she was hiding something in her words.

“But your friend who was missing is okay?”

“Yes.” She pulled back again and gazed up at me. “You’ve had enough go wrong in your life. I’m glad it worked out for you too. I wasn’t sure you could survive another loss.”

I stared back at her, my brows furrowed as I tried to comprehend what she was saying. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How much is Michael paying you to mess with me?”

“Michael paying me? I don’t think Michael even notices I’m alive.”

I stepped back.
“Oh, he notices. So you’re one of his girlfriends?”

She stopped m
oving, pulled back, and looked into my eyes with a piercing stare. “I’m sorry. I knew I would mess this up.”

Confirmation.

The song transitioned into the acoustic version of "Layla" by Eric Clapton. The mood was too somber for my first dance with this beautiful woman. The gig was up—I was onto Michael but I could still enjoy the moment. I pulled her back to me as we started swaying to the music again. I decided to lighten the mood and just play along. “You can’t tell me where we met. You can’t tell me your name. So what do I call you, ‘Hey you?’”

She laughed.
“If you want.”

It worked. I liked her laugh. It wasn’t all giggly like teen girls. It was more throaty and deep. It was sexy and womanly and matched her.

“How about Layla? Since you have me begging and all?” The words repeated in the song blasting from the speakers.

She stepped back from me,
and a look of horror came over her. “What?”

“Like the song.” I pointed to the speakers. “Layla.”

She glanced around and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I was jok
ing. The song just sort of matched what was going on. I can call you something else.”

She backed away even f
arther, her eyes wider now. She bumped into the couple behind her, but seemed oblivious to it as she looked around again, frantically this time.

“No, it can’t be. I can’t be.” And then she bolted toward the beach. She hit the sand
, and her heels began to sink. She kicked off her shoes and grabbed them up to run. I ran to follow her. She kept going into the dunes and marsh grass, down away from the lights to the sandy darkness. The sound of ocean waves beating against the shore was followed by the next crash and then another. If it hadn’t been for the full moon and cloudless sky, I might not have found her. I grabbed her arm as I overtook her and she spun to face me.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

She fell on her knees in the sand and clutched at her chest. “He left me here because he thought I was…” She looked up at me in wide-eyed panic.

“What’s wrong? Who left you here? Did the guys put you up to this? Because it’s
not funny.” I knelt down in front of her.

“
I
am
not
Layla!” Then she looked right at me, her glare revealing pure fright. “
I am not Layla.”

Chapter 2

THE GUYS HAD FOLLOWED ME and joined us on the beach. Michael came first and nodded for me to step to the side with him.

“Dude,
is she all right?”

I shook my head, still watching as she cradled herself in the sand. “I don’t know. I called her Layla
, and she flipped. I thought I got your joke at first, but now I’m not getting this. Just send her home and end this, okay?”

Michael turned to face me. “End what?”

“This joke where the hot girl is into me and then flips out. Ha ha. It was funny. Now send her home.”

Michael glanced at the
girl and then shook his head. “David, I don’t know that girl.”

“What about her friend who dropped her off and his plan to talk to y
ou later?” I felt one eyebrow rise, as I asked further, “And how did she know who we were?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s part of her crazy talk
, or her boyfriend likes garage bands.”

“Then why did she flip out on me?”

“The hot girl’s a few donuts short of a dozen.” He twirled his finger by his temple. “Insane in the membrane. I mean, why else would she be into you instead of me?”

I balled my hand into a fist and punched him as hard as I could in the shoulder. “You’re stupid. And this joke has gone on long enough.”

Michael jumped to the side and laughed.

With a frown,
I walked back to where Layla sat in the sand and bent down to her. “Listen, you did a great job of freaking me out. I’m sure Michael is thrilled. I don’t get it, but I’m sure I will laugh and laugh about this night one day.”

She turned to face me, her eyes full of tears. “What are you talking about?”

“Michael set this all up as a joke, right?”

“I wish it were a joke.” She swallowed and rubbed her eyes. Either she was a really good actress or her tears were real.

A tinge of sympathy softened my tone with her. “I’m not sure what all this is about, but is there anyone I can call to come get you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll just call a cab.” She glanced around in the sand and then back at me. “Shoot, I left my purse back at…” Then another look came over her, like she was realizing something else. “Even if I had it, who would I call? My credit cards wouldn’t work here.” She stared into space and then back at me. Her face contorted in anger as she jumped up and shoved me into the sand on my butt. “You did this to me!” She stood over
me with her finger pointed at my face. “I don’t care what you thought. I am not her. I am not Layla.”

She grabbed
her shoes and raced down the beach, kicking sand up behind her as she went. The guys stared after her while I stood.

Michael walked over to me. “Told you she was crazy. We gotta get back and finish our set.”

I watched her run until she was too far down the beach for me to see.

Layla

EACH DEEP BREATH I SUCKED made my lungs burn like fire, but I kept running. Broken shells mixed with the sand cut the bottoms of my feet and yet I kept going. This wasn’t happening. It was darker since I’d moved down the beach, away from the hotels, but I couldn’t concentrate on that. My mind was a jumbled mess. The waves crashed hard to my left, and the sea foam crackled like breakfast cereal in milk. A wave stretched its wet tongue and lapped at my hurting feet. I stepped in a hole in the sand, and my foot twisted. I dropped my shoes and put my hands out to brace my fall and grunted as my body made contact with the prickly shells.

I flipped over and grabbed
my shoes and held them overhead as the sound of another wave alerted me that it was approaching. I bolted up. I’d just had my hair done for the trip. The hair and the shoes were gifts to myself from my bonus. I stood, but my legs buckled. I made it to my feet. I wasn’t sure how far I had run, but it must have been farther than my normal cardio workout. The skin on my knees burned from the impact with the broken shells as I limped up to dry soft sand near the marsh grass and took a seat.

I hugged my knees
and stared out into the darkness. The white foam glowed in the moonlight. This couldn’t really be happening. This was a nightmare. It wasn’t real. I closed my eyes and tried to take control of it, like my grandma taught me to do when my dreams became frightening. She told me to realize it was just a dream and that I was in charge of it. When I’d had enough, I could take to the sky and fly away. I sat there thinking,
this is just a dream. Time to fly away.
But nothing happened. I’d tried it the night she died, praying it was just a bad dream, but it wasn’t. I might not be able to fly away from all my troubles, but I never let circumstances control me. I rubbed at my legs. They stung and I could feel trickles of blood.

The first tear pushed its way down my cheek, against my will
. I swatted it away angrily. I wasn’t a crier, not since I was a child and realized it didn’t fix anything. No one ever came to the rescue. Crying got you teased and wasted time. I let my mind race in every direction that could possibly fix this, but it all came back blank. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, I could do to fix this. I glanced up to the sky, “I guess this is a good time to ask You for help. It’s been a while. If you will just get me out of this, I won’t ask you for another thing. I promise.”

David

I RAN THE SOUNDBOARD UNTIL the guys finished, but spent the whole time looking over my shoulder to see if she’d come back. There was an eeriness about meeting the girl. Sort of like Déjà vu but not… since I’d never met the girl before. It was almost like the feelings I got when I needed one of my notebooks. Sort of a supernatural tingle in the soul. Like a message meant just for me had arrived, and I had to capture it before it left.

I grabbed my notebook—I always kept one with me—
and wrote it down:

Layla April 3, 1994 Knew about Cheerwine. Either a joke or I attract crazy chicks.

I tucked my notebook under my arm and started cleaning up my soundboard area. Everything had to go in the storage closet that the motel let us use. The drums, microphones, soundboard, and speakers went in there. Michael, Mark and Travis kept their guitars with them in their motel rooms.

The guys had gone
across the street to a twenty-four-hour pancake house. I was about to join them, but had to double check that everything was locked up. Good thing since one of the mics and a speaker were still out by the pool. Those guys were the artists, and I was the responsible one. I grabbed it and was heading to the storage closet when I glanced up and saw her.

I froze and blinke
d, trying to get her into focus. Then I remembered my glasses were in my pocket. I reached in and placed them back on my nose. No wonder I’d spent the last part of the night squinting at the switches. She was disheveled. The wind had tangled and matted her hair, but it only made her more appealing in the way messy hair did in a guy’s mind. “Um…hey.”

“Hey.” She wiped her red eyes
and sniffed before pushing her hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t have any money. I don’t even have my driver’s license with me.” She shrugged. “I’m stuck and I don’t know anyone to ask for help…except you.”

I finished walking the mic to the closet and shut i
t and checked the lock as I spoke to her. “Sure. What do you need?”

She shook her head.
“Just a place to stay for now. I’m still not convinced my ride has really dumped me off here. He might come back. Maybe he had issues with his…transportation, and I made the wrong assumption. Or this could be some kind of test. I don’t know. But I’ll pay you back when this is all over, I promise. I take care of myself. I always have.”

A beautiful woman was asking to stay with me. There was still the chance that this was a trick because I seriously doubted she was
as crazy as Michael suggested. Trick or not, I’d help her. “Yeah, sure. I’m headed over to the pancake house to join up with the guys. You hungry?”

She swallowed. “I hate to put you out more.”

“Guys buy ladies dinner all the time. No sweat.”

She smiled. “
But I promise I will pay you back. I don’t
earn
my spaghetti dinners. I pay for them
myself
.”

I
frowned as I tried to understand what she meant. “No problem. Pay me when you can.” I motioned for her to follow me and took my notebook out from under my arm.

She grinned. “One of your notebooks?”

I held the black college-ruled spiral notebook up and half grinned. “Yeah, it’s for my ideas.”

“Right because you’re like Philo T. Farnsworth.”

I stopped and faced her. “What?”

She nodded.
“You know…Philo T. Farnsworth. The inventor of the television.”

I froze again and swallowed. Michael knew a lot about me, but our conversations centered on music and girls. He didn’t know about things like who Philo T. Farnsworth was. “Yes, I know who he is.” I thought about the guys across the street. I didn’t imagine a single one of them would recognize the name. They could hardly pass a class without my help.

“Philo would have visions of the things he was to invent. The calculations would run through his head, almost explaining themselves to him. He was fourteen when he got the vision for how the television would work. He wrote it out at school that day, almost immediately, taking up two chalkboards trying to explain it to his teacher and class.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Goosebumps prickled along the back of my neck, just like the first time I ever heard about his story at science camp. I felt an instant kinship with him.

Her dark eyes warmed as she looked at me. “You’re like Philo. You’re going to invent things.”

Her stare pierced mine, like she could see into me and knew all my secrets, even the ones I wasn’t privy to yet. “You’re wrong. I’m going to be a nice boring dentist.”

S
he smiled as she shook her head. “No, you won’t”

“How do you know these things about me? My drink was easy. T
hat Michael knows. The visions—I don’t share with anyone.”

Layla grinned
, but it was a sad grin. “I just know things.”

“People don’t just know things like that about people they’ve just met.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I
t isn’t logical.”

“Not everything in life is built on pure logic.”

“Yes, it is.”

She shook her head. “No. S
orry, but there’s a whole realm of the unseen, and I think on some level we all know it exists. Some call it God, assuming it is something bigger than they are and seek to worship it. Others assume it’s all smaller than them and try to conquer it through scientific study. But we all know something unseen is there, and we know we need to find it. Because when we do, we will know the answer.”

“The answer to what?”

“Why we are here?”

I stared
into her eyes. I didn’t know what to say. The whole thing with her was becoming a puzzle. The more she said or did, the less I had figured out. My stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. Nothing was making sense, and I was getting hungry. I shook my head and placed my hand on the small of her back to push her ahead of me toward the exit of the pool area. “Are you a philosophy student?”

“Nope.”

“Psychology then?” I was trying to get some kind of read off her.

“Never went to college, not really.”

“What does not really mean?”

“I took a certification course at a community college to become an insurance agent. I work in the lower end of the office right now, but I’m working my way up.”

My eyes widened as I thought of what my mom would think. She had certain ideas about who was suitable for me to date. Community college certification was not what she had in mind. She planned on grandchildren who qualified to be members of Mensa.

I opened the door and motioned for Layla to enter first.

She stopped and looked at the door and then at me holding it. She cocked her head and smiled. “Thank you.”

We walked into the pancake house
, and I found the guys at a large table looking at menus while talking to the waitress.

“You were supposed to wait for me.” I pulled up another chair from
a table beside them for Layla.

“We got hungry.”

Michael’s eyebrows lifted. “She came back?”

“She came back.” I nodded and turned my attention to the menu, hoping he’d drop it.

“Are you going to introduce us to the Clapton hater?” Joey asked.

Layla turned to face me, her eyebrows coming together. “What’s he talking about?”

“The way you freaked out during the Eric Clapton song.”

“I don’t even know who that is?” She shook her head.

The guys pushed away from the table. A couple of them slapped the table top in all of the guffawing. “What planet are you from to not know who Eric Clapton is?”