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Jacksons POV
I stood by my locker, hands clamped tightly to my backpack straps as Danny watched me with careful brown eyes. "I'm sure she's fine," He assured me with his gentle voice. "Layla can handle her own."
"I know," I scoffed, leaning my weight onto the green locker. "—I just want to make sure that McCall isn't trying to steal my girl."
"Jackson, Layla is so in love with you. She would never leave you for some shaggy haired puppy who finally landed a spot in the limelight."
I groaned, anger boiling away at my insides at the very thought that some dweeb was working his way to the spot that I had kicked ass to get on since I was a little kid. "That's the thing, Danny. He's in the limelight. This is my show and I run it how I want it to, that's how it's been for years, and I refuse to give that up."
"You sound really selfish right now, Jackson." Danny scolded, trading out books from his locker and moving things around to find a pencil. "There's enough room for more than one person to lead."
I shook my head in denial. "Not on my stage."
The doors behind us opened and Layla strutted through, her hair curled and a bit of her flat stomach exposed. Out of the tan skin that was shown, her swirly birthmark that looked too perfect to be natural peeking over the top of her skin tight jeans. "Well, wouldn't you share with your own girlfriend?"
"She doesn't share her spotlight either, Danny-boy. Layla runs her own damn show."
When she finally reached me, Layla pulled me into a tight hug, leaving a kiss on my lips. "Hey Danny," She greeted cheerfully, but there was something wrong, her happiness was forced. "New shirt? Looks good on you."
The Hawaiian looked down at her new green shirt that made his tanned skin look more tan than usual, it suited him and a pleasant smile formed on his face. "Thanks. Are you alright?"
Layla shrugged, her neon yellow crop top riding up a little more with the gesture. "Found out I was adopted. Guess Jackson and I can relate a little better than before now."
Danny and I stared at Layla in shock as she walked away from us, her back facing us as she made her way to class. "Did she just say that she was adopted?"
"I think so."
Danny shook his head, running his hand through his shortly cut ebony hair. "It's too early for this, I'll see you in class."
---
3rd POV
Layla sat at her desk, her eyes faced forward but they blurred creating another image that wasn't before her as a result of her eyes going slightly cross-eyed. Although she was only daydreaming, everything came back at her like a tidal wave.
Everything made sense now, she didn't look anything like her relatives. They were all red heads with striking green eyes and they were all nut jobs. But now, she understood why instead of assuming that she was just the oddball with unique genes of sanity and brown hair.
As a sea full of questions and realizations appeared, so did a large packet of geometry homework. "Layla, is my class boring you?"
Taking the packet from her teacher, her brown eyes looked up at him challengingly. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"No, probably not." As he walked away, Layla was sure she had heard him mumble something about 'disrespectful students', but she didn't care.
Her hand moved against the paper, graphite marking numbers and theorems into the given lines quicker than she had before. Layla had always been good with numbers, and in the time that they took to complete it had distracted her brain from the drama that was taking place around her.
Things were changing in Beacon, and she wasn't sure if she could handle it anymore. Jackson was growing irritable and his ego was swelling so large that a needle couldn't even pop the balloon. All this suspicious talk about supernatural creatures were unorthodox but it seemed to correspond into the recent spike in deaths that were taking place. It had never been violent here and all of a sudden there were more murders and minimal facts to give to the public about what was actually going on.
Interrupting her thoughts, the bell rang and on her way out of the classroom she placed the finished packet on her teachers desk.
Everything was changing for Layla Davis, and she had a very strong feeling that her adoption and Jacksons mood swings wasn't going to be the end of it.
