The late afternoon sun spilled into Layla's room, painting golden streaks across the floorboards and the edge of her bed. She lay sprawled across the faded quilt, an old notebook resting in her lap. Most of the pages were filled with doodles, random thoughts, and half-finished lists—places she wanted to visit, books she wanted to read, dreams she couldn't quite put into words. Today, the pen in her hand felt heavier than usual, its ink refusing to capture anything meaningful.
She stared at a blank page, her mind circling back to the pervious day's session with her psychologist. No matter how much she tried to distract herself, snippets of their conversation kept bubbling to the surface, intertwining with memories she wished would stay buried.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by her door flying open with all the subtlety of a hurricane.
"I come bearing gifts!" Annie announced dramatically, holding up a crinkled plastic bag like it was a prized trophy. She marched into the room, dropping the bag on the bed and flopping down beside Layla without invitation.
"Annie," Layla groaned, tugging the bag closer to inspect its contents. "Do you even know how to knock?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Annie grinned, already helping herself to a bag of chips. "Besides, I'm here on a mission. Mandatory chill session. Doctor's orders."
Layla raised an eyebrow. "Doctor?"
"Yes, me. Dr. Annie, PhD in Relaxation and Fun," she replied, puffing up her chest theatrically. "And you, my dear patient, need to stop brooding for, like, five minutes."
"I'm not brooding," Layla muttered, though her tone lacked conviction. Annie's pointed look made her add, "I'm not!"
"Oh, please." Annie waved a hand dismissively. "You've got that 'I'm-a-serious-thinker' vibe going on. Very intellectual. Very tragic. But also very unhealthy. So, let's fix that."
Before Layla could retort, Annie dove into the bag and pulled out a small, brightly colored box. "Ta-da! Face masks. We're doing this."
Layla groaned, louder this time. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Nope." Annie shook the box for emphasis. "Come on, Layla. Live a little. It'll be fun!"
Layla gave her a flat look. "Fun for who?"
"For me, obviously," Annie said with a cheeky grin, already tearing open one of the packets. "But also for you. Trust me."
With exaggerated reluctance, Layla sat up, pushing her hair back. "Fine. But if my face falls off, it's on you."
"Deal."
The first sign of disaster came when Annie squeezed the gel out of its tiny packet. A loud squelching noise filled the room, and the translucent substance oozed out in a way that could only be described as alien-like.
"Why does this look like something out of a sci-fi horror movie?" Annie muttered, squinting at the goo.
"Because you probably bought the cheapest ones you could find," Layla said, holding her hair away from her face as Annie advanced with the mask.
"Budget-friendly, not cheap," Annie corrected, smearing a generous glob onto Layla's cheek.
Layla yelped at the cold, sticky sensation. "You could've at least warmed it up first!"
"Beauty is pain," Annie replied sagely, slapping another glob onto Layla's forehead.
The process quickly devolved into chaos. Layla dropped a chunk of the mask onto her shirt, Annie managed to get some in her hair, and both of them ended up laughing so hard they nearly toppled off the bed.
"This is a disaster," Layla said, trying to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes without smudging the mask further.
"No," Annie said, striking a ridiculous pose with half her face covered. "This is art."
Layla shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "You're insane."
"And you love me for it."
Layla's phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting their giggles. She reached for it, seeing Aaron's name flash on the screen.
"What does he want?" Annie asked, craning her neck to peek.
Layla opened the message and snorted. It was a meme—a picture of a grumpy cat with the caption: "When your friend won't stop overthinking."
"Subtle," Layla said, showing the screen to Annie.
Annie's eyes lit up mischievously. "Ooh, let me reply!"
Before Layla could stop her, Annie snatched the phone and began typing furiously.
"Annie!" Layla lunged, but Annie held the phone out of reach, laughing like a maniac.
"Trust me, you'll thank me later," Annie said, hitting send.
Layla groaned. "What did you say?"
Annie grinned wickedly, holding up the screen. The message read: "Why are you so obsessed with me?"
"Oh my God," Layla muttered, burying her face in her hands.
The reply came almost instantly: "Can't help it. You're just that charming."
Annie howled with laughter, nearly rolling off the bed. "He's so predictable!"
Layla grabbed her phone back, glaring at her friend. "You're the worst."
"And yet, here I am, improving your day," Annie said smugly, popping another chip into her mouth.
When the chaos finally settled, the two of them lay side by side on the bed, the face masks drying and cracking slightly at the edges. The laughter had left Layla feeling lighter, like some of the weight on her shoulders had been momentarily lifted.
"Thanks for this," she said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
Annie turned her head to look at her. "For what? Ruining your face and embarrassing you via text?"
Layla smiled faintly. "For being here."
Annie's teasing grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine warmth. "Always, Layla. You know that."
For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the faint hum of traffic outside and the occasional rustle of the snack bag. Layla let herself relax, the tension in her chest easing as she realized—maybe, just for now—everything was okay.