His Sweet Revenge

Chapter 22.

"I put the remote on the couch, and then somehow the couch ate it."

"No, Mrs Campbell. The couch can't eat things. It just fell into the cushion," Grayson explains, sitting beside the confused old lady.

"Oh, you're such a sweetheart, Grayson. Put Desperate Housewives on for me, thanks."

Grayson clicks the remote with a forced smile on his face. "Do you need anything to eat, Mrs. Campbell?"

"I'm okay, sweetheart. The digestive system is not what it used to be."

Grayson gets up from the couch and walks over to me, releasing a long breath. "You look like you're enjoying this."

I'm trying to hold back a fit of laughter. "Because I am."

"Screw you," Grayson laughs, walking to the kitchen. "I'll just wash the dishes, and then we can go."

We've been here nearly three hours. Grayson's got some patience. However, I have been playing Call of Duty on my phone for the entire time, but now my phone's about to die.

The device buzzes on my thigh, and I turn it around to look at the notification.

Iris: Party tomorrow night. Do you want to go with me, or will you be up Grayson's ass all night?

Layla: Are you still pissed at me?

Iris: Can you read?

Layla: I'm assuming that's a yes.

Iris: You're a real bitch sometimes.

Layla: I know.

Layla: I'll go. Whose party is it?

Iris: No idea. Baker Lee invited me. It's a bonfire in the city.

If it's in the city, that's a good sign. Noah or James won't be there.

Layla: Oh? Baker? The one you made out with last summer?

Iris: That would be the one, yes.

Layla: Cool. What time should I be out of Grayson's ass?

Iris: Preferably eight o'clock.

Layla: Okay. Love you.

Iris: Love you.

"All right, I'm done. Let's go," Grayson says, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. I shove my phone into my pocket, ready to leave this house.

— — —

"Are you going somewhere, Layla?" My mom stands at my door, watching me put my mascara on.

"Yeah, with Iris. There's a big bonfire in the city."

"That sounds like fun." She walks over and sits down on my bed, and I think she's ready to have that talk she mentioned yesterday morning.

When I got home, she was still running errands with Hale. And when she got home, I was sleeping.

"Is everything okay?" She asks.

I place my mascara back in its rightful place and turn around to look at her. "Fine," I say, a little too quickly. She picks up on that. "Why do you ask?"

"Everyone agrees that you seem down since school ended. At first, we thought it was post-graduation sadness, but now ... we're not so sure. You never hang out with your friends anymore, either. All you do is spend time alone in your room."

"I'm going out tonight, aren't I?"

She looks at me like she sees right through me. "I know how Iris can be. And I know you're not going because you want to."