Driven To You

Aaron arrived at his desk after lunch, and the first thing he noticed was the familiar sight of an umbrella neatly folded and left on top of his books. His lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. He picked it up, giving it a slight twirl as he sat down.

"Thank you, Guardian Angel," he muttered under his breath.

It wasn't the first time this had happened. Layla had been leaving umbrellas for him on rainy days since middle school, though she'd never acknowledged it. She probably thought he didn't notice. But how could he not? Even back then, before she became the school's rebel queen and he rose to soccer stardom, there was something about her that had always caught his attention.

Aaron tucked the umbrella into his bag and turned his focus to the day ahead. But a nagging thought lingered: why did she still do this? They weren't friends. Hell, their relationship was as far from "friendly" as it could get, limited to stolen moments and lingering glances that neither of them talked about.

Later that evening, Aaron was finishing up his homework when his phone buzzed on the desk. It was a message from his mom, reminding him to take dinner to his dad at the precinct. His dad had been pulling long hours lately, and tonight was no exception.

Aaron packed up the containers, grabbed his keys, and made the short drive to the police station. The precinct was alive with activity, officers bustling about, phones ringing, and the hum of conversation filling the air. Aaron walked through the familiar halls, nodding at a few officers he knew, and made his way toward his dad's office.

But as he passed the holding cells, something—or rather someone—caught his eye.

There, sitting on the bench inside one of the cells, was Layla.

Aaron stopped in his tracks, blinking as if to confirm he wasn't imagining things. She looked completely unbothered, leaning back with her arms crossed and her signature leather jacket slung over one shoulder.

"Layla?" he called, his voice tinged with disbelief.

She glanced up, her expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Well, well, if it isn't Kingston High's golden boy," she drawled.

Aaron stepped closer, leaning casually against the bars. "I knew I'd see you here someday, but I didn't think it'd be this soon. What did you do?"

Layla smirked. "Graffiti," she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Of course," Aaron muttered, shaking his head. "Why am I not surprised?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't respond. Aaron straightened and made his way to his dad's office, knocking lightly before stepping inside.

His dad looked up from a stack of paperwork, his expression tired but curious. "Aaron? What's up?"

Aaron hesitated, knowing this was a big ask. "Uh, I was wondering if you could let someone go. She's...she's got a test tomorrow, and it's important. It's her shot at a scholarship. I know she messed up, but it was just graffiti. She's not a bad person."

His dad leaned back in his chair, studying Aaron carefully. "Who are we talking about here?"

"Layla," Aaron admitted.

His dad's brows furrowed. "Layla? The girl from your school? The one with the motorcycle?"

"Yeah, that's her," Aaron said, trying to keep his tone casual.

"She's in here a lot sooner than I expected," his dad remarked, shaking his head.

Aaron sighed. "Come on, Dad. She's not a criminal. Just...warn her, and let her off this time. Please?"

His father sat in silence for a moment, then let out a resigned sigh. "Alright, but this is her only warning. If I see her here again, there won't be a next time."

"Thanks, Dad," Aaron said, relief flooding his voice.

A few minutes later, Layla was walking out of the cell, her expression unreadable. Aaron handed her the helmet he kept in his car, gesturing toward the exit.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get your bike."

They rode in silence to the abandoned lot where her motorcycle was parked. The sound of the engines cut through the quiet night as they pulled up next to her bike. Layla swung her leg over the seat, adjusting her jacket as she started the ignition.

"You didn't have to do that," she said finally, her voice soft but firm.

Aaron shrugged. "You'd do the same for me."

Layla let out a short laugh. "Doubtful."

He grinned. "Maybe. But you still owe me."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. What do you want? Gas money? A free pass on our next test?"

Aaron's smile softened, and he shook his head. "Actually, I want to study."

Layla blinked, caught completely off guard. "Study?"

"Yeah. For the test tomorrow. Unless you've already got it all figured out," he added with a teasing edge.

Layla stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was serious. They weren't friends. Hell, they weren't even allies. If anything, they were academic rivals—two people who constantly vied for the top spot in every class.

"Why would you want to study with me?" she asked, her tone suspicious.

Aaron shrugged. "Because you're smart. And because, believe it or not, I actually care about this test too."

After a long pause, Layla sighed. "Fine. But don't expect me to go easy on you."

Aaron smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

They ended up at Layla's house, sprawled out on the living room floor with textbooks, notebooks, and highlighters scattered around them. The initial awkwardness faded as they fell into an easy rhythm, exchanging notes and challenging each other's answers.

"Your handwriting is terrible," Layla commented at one point, squinting at his notes.

"Yours isn't much better," Aaron shot back, grinning.

By the time they finished, it was well past midnight. Layla was sprawled on her stomach, her head resting on her crossed arms as she let out a deep sigh.

"You're not as annoying as I thought you'd be," she murmured, her voice drowsy.

Aaron chuckled, leaning back against the couch. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Moments later, Layla's breathing evened out, and Aaron realized she had fallen asleep. He smiled faintly, shaking his head as he grabbed a blanket from the couch and draped it over her.

Gathering his things quietly, he slipped out the door, leaving her house just as the first hints of dawn began to paint the sky.

As Aaron walked to his car, he couldn't help but wonder how they kept ending up in situations like this—crossing lines they'd both sworn to keep in place.

And why, for the first time, he didn't seem to mind.