Page 30 of Primal

It doesn’t matter, though. Yolanda needs it more than me. Especially after being named a suspect in Ahmad’s murder. That was quickly rectified, though, when they couldn’t find any evidence to link her to the crime. The police believe that whoever killed Ahmad also killed Malcolm—and they would be right, but Yolanda and I aren’t going to tell them that.

It’s been a week, and while the chaos of it all has somewhat died down, the real journey begins now: healing. Yolanda, from what she went through, and now, I can properly grieve Grandma’s death. I spent so much of those three months being angry at Zyran that I feel like a part of me forgot that I needed to process my emotions.

Yolanda and I sit on the swings at the park and enjoy the warmth of the afternoon sun. We’ve been out here for hours now, sitting in a comfortable silence. We’ve spent more time together this week than we have in the past few years. Her career as a nurse makes it hard for us to see each other. While I hate the circumstances, I’ve been loving spending so much time with my best friend.

“Are you done with him?” she asks me out of the blue, startling me out of my thoughts.

I look at her. “Who?”

She gives me an incredulous look.

Right. Him.

Zyran.

He’s been blowing up my phone since the day of his confession. I would have thought he’d give up by now, since I haven’t been responding to him, but my ignoring him seems to be driving him even crazier because my phone just won’t stop buzzing from the constant text messages. I’ve had to block three different numbers that I know are him. At this point, I might just have to get a new phone number.

I sigh and lean my head against the cool swing chain and stare at a spot on the ground. “I don’t know, Yo. I’m still majorly struggling with my conflicting feelings.”

“You want him to come back?”

I’m silent for a moment, considering my answer carefully.

I decide on the truth.

“Yes,” I say quietly. “I do. Does that make me a freak?”

Yolanda shakes her head. “Absolutely not. People are into all kinds of things. It’s strange, yes, I’ll admit that, but it doesn’t make you a freak. You can’t help it.”

I nod. “You’re right. I try to remind myself that it’s okay that I’m this way, but I do have to admit that my attraction to him has caused such a fuckup. If I had just gone to the police when it first happened, Grandma would still be here, and you wouldn’t have…”

I let the words hang in the air because I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

Yolanda stops swinging and turns so she’s facing me. “Kee, you can’t possibly think what happened to me was your fault.”

I shrug, avoiding her gaze. “Everything happens for a reason. One small event can alter the course of your entire life.”

She groans. “You don’t actually believe in that stuff, do you?”

“Of course I do. It happens every day.”

When she looks at me like I’ve gone insane, I roll my eyes and say, “It’s called the butterfly effect. Look it up.”

Yolanda stands up and stretches. “Regardless of what you believe, I don’t believe it’s your fault. I don’t blame you one bit. And, anyway, you knew your grandma had a weak heart.”

“Yeah, but that knowledge still doesn’t make dealing with her death any easier.” I stand up and roll my shoulders to ease the tension that’s forming there.

I’m tired of being sad, and I’m sick of feeling like I keep screwing everything up. I want something to take my mind off of how much of a pile of shit my life has turned into.

“Do you want to do something fun?” I ask Yolanda suddenly.

“Like what?”

“VB MusicFest is coming back next month. I think we should go and have ourselves a good ass time. We deserve it.”

VB MusicFest is a music festival that’s held at the Virginia Beach Oceanfront every summer. Artists of varying popularity and notoriety show up and always put on the most amazing performances. It’s almost like our version of Coachella, but way cheaper, so it’s not as exclusive.

Yo chuckles darkly. “Okay, fine, but no drinking.”

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