It was a dark, calm, clear Friday night in May. Layla had just arrived at her friend Joy's house for a sleep over because they had not seen each other in quite a while. Joy lived towns away, so of course they did not attend the same school. They had kind of grown apart with time, but still very much enjoyed each other's company and would be eager to catch up on what was happening in each other's lives. Joy had rented several movies from her local Video Villa and had planned to watch them with Layla, though Layla was not particularly fond of movies. It was alright though; Layla knew she would enjoy her time with Joy, because she always did.
"Hey Layla. Which one do you want to watch first; My Three Sisters or An Evening with Frank Ward?" Joy asked her.
"Umm... what's My Three Sisters about?"
"It's about like... this girl... who like... grew up with an abusive father and a drunken mom... and of course three sisters who helped her through it with their friendship and stuff. I heard it was really good." Joy explained.
"That sounds a little depressing and dramatic for me. What's An Evening with Frank Ward all about?" Layla inquired.
"That's about this teenage girl who falls in love with her therapist." she replied.
"That sounds kind of interesting. I'm surprised you didn't get a Comedy or so like usual though."
"Yeah. I figured I'd go for something different this time. You don't mind, right?" Joy asked.
"Nah, of course not." said Layla.
Layla was actually rather enthused about watching the movie, but she was more enthused about going to the kitchen to get something to feed her hungry gut. Joy had heard it growling all night.
"Umm... Layla?" Joy questioned.
"Yeah?" Layla answered.
"You want something to eat?!" Joy asked her, peering down at her noisy little stomach.
"That'd be nice. Do you have anymore of that ravioli?"
"Man, you love that ravioli, don't you? Of course we have it." Joy said.
"Thank God. I'm dying for it about now." Layla added.
With that, Joy whipped out the can opener and had started screeching away at the can of extra meaty ravioli she had gotten from her pantry. The sound was rather irritating, but the ravioli was to be gotten at any price. Just then, Joy and Layla turned their heads to a sound emanating from the living room to the left of them.
"Hey, girls. How's it going?" Joy's father had asked them, walking into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Howdy. It's going good. You just woke up?" Layla had replied, giving him a brief look up and down.
"Yeah. That nap must have lasted like six hours. How am I ever gonna get back to sleep?" he asked nobody in particular.
"You're not gonna keep us up with that Hair Metal crap, are ya, Dad?" Joy had rather impolitely asked her dad.
"Ha-ha. No. I'll TRY to get back to sleep. I don't think it'll work though." replied Joy's father.
"Hair Metal crap?" echoed Layla resentfully.
"Joy doesn't appreciate the older Rock N' Roll, y'see. It's a shame." he replied.
Their conversation had continued as the ravioli had been put into the microwave and began to cook. The smell of hot meat and cheese lingered all throughout the room. Layla's stomach had something to say about that.
"Down, girl." Joy's dad had commented, as he laughed just a little bit.
"Don't worry. Just fourteen more seconds." Joy told Layla, as she glanced down at her stomach.
"Welp, I'd better go before I get eaten alive. I'll be in my room if yous need anything." he'd said, with a wave to Layla and a kiss on Joy's forehead.
"So corny." commented Joy.
"Good night, Mr. Tyler." Layla replied.
"You don't have to call me that. How long have we known each other? You can call me Vinny, Vince, one of those. Good night, hon." he said, as he walked off into the darkness of their hallway, down further to his room. Layla's eyes followed him until he was no longer visible from the kitchen.
When all had been said and done on Mr. Tyler's part, the microwave had began beeping so as to notify Layla's stomach that it wouldn't be suffering much longer. Layla rushed to the microwave's eject button and grabbed the steaming bowl of ravioli from inside, placing it on the counter to the left of her and shaking off her hot hand.
"Yeah. You might want to let that cool." Joy suggested.
Layla then took a fork from a local drawer and began poking holes randomly into her ravioli, to make them cool faster. Joy had always looked at her funny when she did this. After a while of poking holes, blowing steam, and waving her hand over the bowl, Layla had finally began to eat the ravioli. She gulped it down as though she hadn't seen food in days.
"Good God, Layla. Do they feed you at home?" Joy asked, sardonically.
"Of course. Just not anything this good." was Layla's retort.