Something About You

Who's

In the dim afternoon light streaming through the windows, Layla swept dust off the coffee table while Sarah folded a pile of blankets on the couch. It was supposed to be just a lazy day spent cleaning Layla’s apartment, but conversations always found their way into moments like this.

Layla sighed heavily, tossing a random sock into the laundry basket. “Aaron’s weird, you know? Like... why does he keep calling me ‘B’? What does that even mean?”

Sarah smirked, folding a blanket with exaggerated precision. “Maybe it’s his nickname for you—some kind of cute pet name. You know, like Babe, Baby, Bee?” Sarah wagged her eyebrows mischievously. “What if it’s his subtle way of saying you're special?”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. As if.” She tossed a pillow at Sarah, who dodged it with a laugh. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Am I the one overthinking it? Or is it you, Layla?” Sarah teased, nudging Layla with her elbow. “Maybe you secretly love that he calls you ‘B.’ Admit it.”

Layla made a dramatic gagging noise. “Absolutely not.” But she couldn’t deny the small flutter in her chest every time Aaron said it. It was confusing, annoying... and a little bit nice.

They both moved to the small storage cabinet near the kitchen, where Sarah began pulling out old magazines, books, and knick-knacks Layla had stuffed inside over the years. As Sarah reached for a stack of notebooks tucked in the corner, the pile wobbled dangerously.

“Uh-oh...” Sarah muttered, trying to steady it, but it was too late.

The books toppled out of the cabinet, landing squarely on Sarah’s head with a soft thud.

“Ow!” Sarah yelped, crouching down and cradling her head, though she was clearly more startled than hurt.

Layla burst out laughing, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath. “Oh my God, are you okay?!” she asked between fits of giggles.

Sarah sat on the floor, rubbing her head but grinning. “I swear, your apartment is trying to kill me.”

Still laughing, Layla crouched down beside her, nudging her shoulder playfully. “That’s what you get for trying to organize my mess. Serves you right.”

Sarah gave her an exaggerated glare. “Wow, no sympathy. You’re a terrible friend.”

Layla wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still grinning. “Nah, you love me.”

Sarah shook her head, smiling as she picked up the scattered books. “Seriously, though. Your place is full of danger zones.” She handed Layla a random notebook, then shot her a sly look. “And you call Aaron weird?”

Layla playfully smacked Sarah on the arm with the notebook, earning another round of laughter between them.

Sarah huffed, brushing off the dust from her clothes as she leaned forward to gather the scattered books. "Alright, alright, let's get this over with before your apartment decides to knock me unconscious for real," she muttered, stacking the notebooks back into a neat pile. But as she did, a small, worn photograph slipped out from between the pages and fluttered to the floor.

Layla was still laughing, holding her sides as she wiped away tears. “See, Sarah? Karma’s real,” she teased, throwing another pillow half-heartedly at her friend.

Sarah didn’t respond immediately. Her hand hovered over the photograph as she picked it up, her expression softening as she looked at it. For a second, she just stared, the playful energy draining from her face.

Layla, still caught in the afterglow of laughter, didn’t notice at first. “Come on, Sarah, don’t tell me the books knocked you senseless. You're tougher than that—” But when she glanced over and saw Sarah’s unusual silence, the grin on her face faded. “What?”

Sarah kept her eyes on the photograph, almost like she was lost in a memory. “This... this photo,” she said quietly. "Who's this?"

Layla leaned over, trying to see what had caught Sarah off guard. When her eyes landed on the small photograph, she blinked, her expression softening.

“Oh, that?” Layla said, picking it up from Sarah’s hands and holding it for a closer look. “That’s me. I was, like, what... five? Six?” She smiled at the sight of her younger self: messy pigtails, a toothy grin, and a stuffed rabbit clutched in one arm. "It’s one of my mom’s favorite pictures. I must’ve kept it in here ages ago."

Sarah sat quietly, her gaze lingering on the photo even as Layla twirled it between her fingers. There was something unspoken in the way Sarah looked at it—like she had noticed something Layla hadn’t.

Layla tilted her head, noticing the way Sarah’s usual sharp banter had fallen into silence. “What? Why do you look like that?” she asked, frowning a little.

Sarah blinked, as if coming back to the present, and quickly plastered on a casual smile. “Nothing. It’s... it’s just cute, that’s all. You were adorable,” she said, her tone light but slightly forced.

Layla narrowed her eyes. “You’re acting weird.”

Sarah gave a little laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She slipped the photo back into the book, closing it carefully and setting it on the pile. “Nah, I’m fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. “I mean, look at you. No wonder people fall for you now—you were destined to be cute.”

Layla raised an eyebrow, sensing something off but not sure what it was. “Okay... if you say so,” she muttered, not entirely convinced but deciding to let it go for now.

Sarah clapped her hands together, clearly eager to change the subject. “Alright, enough with the childhood nostalgia. What’s next on our cleaning list, Captain?”

Layla gave her friend a curious glance but decided not to push further. She stood up and dusted off her hands, still holding the faintest smile from the old photo. “Guess we can tackle the closet... unless you want another concussion,” she teased, trying to lift the mood again.

Sarah rolled her eyes, grateful for the shift in conversation. “You wish. Now let’s get this place looking halfway decent before I fall victim to another stack of death-books.”

Layla laughed, but as she turned back to her cleaning, a tiny flicker of unease settled in her chest. For just a moment, it felt like Sarah had seen something more in that photograph than just a memory of her younger self—but whatever it was, Sarah clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

And for now, Layla decided not to ask.

After tidying up the apartment, Layla and Sarah decided to reward themselves with some food. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the streets as they strolled to a cozy little café not far from Layla’s place. It was tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop, the kind of place with rustic wooden tables and hanging lights that made everything feel more relaxed.

They found a spot by the window, where they could watch the world go by. Sarah stretched her arms dramatically before collapsing into the chair. “Ugh, we deserve this,” she groaned. “Next time, your apartment better clean itself, Layla.”

Layla laughed as she scanned the menu. “You didn’t have to help, you know.”

“Yeah, right. Like I was gonna leave you buried under that avalanche of books.” Sarah rolled her eyes, drumming her fingers against the table while waiting for their orders. “But seriously, I might start charging you hourly for my services. It’s starting to feel like I’m your part-time housekeeper.”

Layla gave her a playful nudge. “I’ll pay you in coffee. Deal with it.”

Their orders arrived—two iced lattes and plates of pasta. Layla twirled her fork in her spaghetti while Sarah leaned back in her chair, already pulling out her phone. “Speaking of payment...” Sarah began, smirking. “Guess who’s been blowing up my messages again?”

Layla didn’t have to think hard. “James?”

“Ding ding.” Sarah flashed her phone screen, where the most recent message from James read, “Do you think aliens like football?”

Layla burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I swear, this guy needs a manual for social interactions.” Sarah shook her head, her expression caught between exasperation and amusement. “One day it’s something like, ‘How do you feel about pineapple on pizza?’ and the next it’s, ‘If I were a dog, what breed would I be?’ I swear, this man is random incarnate.”

Layla almost choked on her iced latte. “Please tell me you don’t actually reply to that stuff.”

“Oh, I do.” Sarah grinned mischievously. “I mean, come on, how can I not? The guy’s a walking sitcom. He asked me what breed I thought he’d be, so I told him he’s a golden retriever trapped in a human body. All energy and no sense.”

Layla clutched her stomach, trying to stifle her giggles. “Oh my God, you didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did,” Sarah replied with a smug expression. “And he totally leaned into it too. Now every time he sends me a weird text, he signs off with, ‘From your favorite golden retriever.’”

They both cracked up, drawing a few amused glances from other café-goers. Layla wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“Honestly, neither do I.” Sarah leaned on the table with a grin. “But I’ll admit, it’s kind of funny. Like, you’d think someone as dramatic as him would be annoying, but somehow, it’s... endearing?” She paused, as if contemplating her own words. “Or maybe I just have a soft spot for idiots.”

Layla shook her head in disbelief. “You’re a saint, Sarah. Seriously.”

Sarah waved it off casually, though her grin stayed. “Nah, just bored. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got much else going on.” She gave Layla a sly look. “Besides, dealing with James is great practice for handling people like Aaron.”

Layla rolled her eyes, though the mention of Aaron did cause her heart to skip a beat. “Please. Don’t even go there.”

Sarah leaned closer with a teasing smirk. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me James isn’t at least a little easier to figure out. I mean, all that guy wants is snacks, attention, and someone to laugh at his jokes. Meanwhile, Aaron? That’s a whole different mystery.”

Layla gave her an exasperated look but couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well... one mystery at a time.”

They continued their meal, chatting comfortably, the café filling with their shared laughter. For a moment, it felt like everything was right—no tangled emotions, no awkward encounters with Aaron, and definitely no confusing feelings. Just two friends, a good meal, and the kind of conversation that could make the world outside feel a little less complicated.

As they continued eating and laughing, the atmosphere around them felt light and comforting—until someone suddenly approached their table. Layla, in the middle of twirling her spaghetti, looked up to see a young man standing in front of them with a wide grin on his face. He seemed relaxed and familiar, but Layla couldn’t quite place him.

“Hey, Layla! Long time no see,” the guy greeted warmly.

Layla blinked in confusion, quickly glancing at Sarah, who shrugged, equally lost. Layla put down her fork slowly. “Uh… sorry, do I know you?”

The guy chuckled, brushing off her awkwardness as if it were no big deal. “It’s me, Adrian. We were in the same class back in high school.”

Layla’s expression remained blank for a few seconds, trying to search her memory for any hint of recognition. Adrian? High school? She tried to place his face among the sea of classmates she had back then, but it was no use. He might as well have been a complete stranger.

Seeing her struggle, Adrian gave her an understanding smile. “Don’t worry. It’s been, what, seven years now? I guess I’ve changed a bit.”

Layla forced a polite laugh, still feeling awkward. “Yeah, sorry… high school feels like a lifetime ago.”

Adrian waved off her apology like it was nothing. “Nah, I get it. Anyway, what brings you to London? I thought you were still in Amsterdam.”

Layla hesitated, feeling strange about having this conversation with someone she didn’t even remember. “Uh… work,” she answered vaguely, hoping that would be enough to steer the conversation toward its end.

Adrian smiled again, shifting slightly on his feet. “That’s cool. I’m here for work too. Small world, huh?” He paused, glancing briefly at Sarah before turning back to Layla. “Anyway, it’s nice running into you. Maybe I’ll see you around again?”

Layla nodded politely. “Yeah, maybe.”

With a friendly wave, Adrian left their table and disappeared into the crowd of café patrons, leaving Layla feeling dazed and a little disoriented. She stared after him for a moment, still trying to connect the dots, but nothing about him triggered any sort of memory. It was as if her brain had filed him away in the deepest archive—one she had no access to anymore.

Sarah took a sip of her iced latte and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Okay, what was that about? You seriously don’t remember him? He was your classmate.”

Layla shrugged, clearly baffled. “I swear I don’t know him.”

Sarah arched a brow. “Come on, Layla. He looked so excited to see you, and you’re telling me you have zero recollection of this guy?”

Layla sighed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “It’s not that weird. I mean, we were in a huge class, right? Maybe we were in the same room for three years, but we just never interacted. That happens.” She picked up her drink, swirling the ice lazily. “Besides, it’s been almost seven years. I can barely remember half the people I used to hang out with in high school, let alone some random classmate I never even talked to.”

Sarah shook her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Man, you’re brutal.”

Layla gave her a deadpan look. “I’m just being honest.”

Sarah chuckled, clearly entertained by the whole thing. “So, you’re saying you went through all of high school without ever talking to that guy, and now he’s acting all chummy?”

“Apparently,” Layla muttered, still trying to make sense of it. “I mean, maybe he remembers me because we were in the same class. But if I really didn’t interact with him back then, how am I supposed to remember him now?”

Sarah took another sip of her drink and leaned back in her seat, still grinning. “Honestly, though… the way he acted, it was like you two were best buddies or something. That must have been weird.”

“It was weird,” Layla admitted. She tapped her fingers on the edge of the table, still deep in thought. “But… I guess it’s not that uncommon. Some people just remember everyone they meet, and some people—” she gestured to herself—“don’t.”

Sarah laughed, clearly amused. “Classic Layla. Oblivious to her own social circle.”

Layla rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters.”

But as they continued eating, the brief encounter stayed in the back of Layla’s mind. Adrian’s friendliness, his easy smile—there was something odd about it. Maybe it really was just a one-sided memory, a guy remembering a classmate who never really noticed him. Or maybe it was just one of those awkward, random encounters that life liked to throw her way from time to time.

Either way, Layla pushed the thought aside and focused on finishing her meal. No point dwelling on things that didn’t matter—after all, she had enough complications in her life already.