Page 93 of Smith

“Yeah.”

If she agreed with me then why did she sound like someone had kicked her puppy?

“What’s up, KK, everything else okay?”

“Yeah…sure.”

Yeah, no.

Kira never sounded uncertain and timid.

“Spill, Kid, what’s wrong?”

“I like her,” she whispered.

Oh fuck.

Shit. Fuck.

“Kira—”

“I’m sure Cash got up in your business earlier so you don’t need me giving you my two cents. But I like her. I think she’s cool, she’s got her shit together, she’s sweet and funny. But more than that I like seeing you with her. Whatever you feel you need to do, I got your back. I just hope whatever you feel you need to do doesn’t lead you to living with more regret.”

Her hope would be in vain.

I already regretted pulling away. But regret didn’t mean I wasn’t doing what was best for Aria.

“It’s called sacrifice, not regret.”

Kira sat on that for a moment before she called me on my shit.

“You can lie to yourself and call it whatever you want, Smith. But we both know what it really is and it’s not sacrifice. At least not the way you mean it.”

“Kira—”

“That’s all I have to say about it,” she declared.

I didn’t get a chance to respond. Aria’s front door flew open. She stepped out onto the porch with her face pale, her eyes wide, different clothes on that looked like she’d pulled on her leggings and sweatshirt in a hurry, barefoot, and her phone was in her hand.

“What’s wrong?”

A thousand scenarios ran through my mind at warp speed; her dad, her house being broken into again, Billy thinking ‘fuck it’ and burning it to the ground, bad news from a friend, etcetera.

Never in my wildest thoughts did I think I’d ever hear my Aria utter the vilest words she could ever say to me.

“Who’s Valerie?”

“Oh fuck,” Kira whispered.

Everything stopped.

My world tilted on its axis and spun out of control.

I was going to kill someone.

Slowly, painfully, murder one of my closest friends.

“Who the fuck told you that name?” I asked as I hung up on Kira.

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