Page 7 of The Spark

She didn’t respond, just shook her head and focused on her plate.

But I saw the way she squeezed her thighs together. And yeah—I loved that shit.

But I also knew that if I were to do anything about the thick vibes between me and Amaya, I needed to be all the way ready. And that was always the challenge. Being ready to love her right.

3

2013

The night air had thatin-betweenfeel—warm enough for short sleeves, but cool enough to raise goosebumps if you stood still too long. Early spring in Pittsburgh was like that. Moody. Soft winds that teased through open car windows, mixing the scent of new grass with leftover winter grit. I had the windows cracked, speakers low, the backseat packed with my controller and crates. Fresh lineup, my best hoodie on, already thinking about the set I was supposed to be playing in Hazelwood.

Brielle had called twice already, textingyou coming or nah?in between. She wasn’t slick. The girl throwing the party had been making it known I could do more than DJ if I showed up. And I’d been down before. She was fine. Easy.

But right as I hit the light at Second and Greenfield, my phone lit up.

I paused, staring at Amaya’s name for a second before I picked up.

“A?”

There was no hello. Just a sharp breath, like she was trying not to fall apart.

“Maya… what’s wrong?”

Then it hit—her voice cracking through the phone like a split in glass.

“He cheated on me. That asshole cheated on me.”

I pulled the car to the curb hard, heart kicking in my chest.

“Where you at?” I asked. “I’ll come get you right now.”

“I’m at my cousin’s,” she sniffled. “Outside.”

She gave me the address. I didn’t even think. Just flipped a U-turn and gunned it across the bridge.

Brielle’s third call came in. I let it ring.

When I pulled up,I spotted her immediately—perched on the low stone ledge at the end of the walkway, long brown legs crossed, arms wrapped tight around her bare shoulders. She had on cutoff jean shorts and a cropped tank top that clung to her body like second skin, skin that was warm and glowing in the streetlight, even with her face red and eyes puffy.

Her curls were pulled into a frizzy puff that looked like she’d thrown it up quick. Gold hoops in her ears. Glitter on her cheekbones. But her shoulders slumped like the whole night had collapsed on top of her.

My heart sank.

I parked and got out without saying a word. Just held the passenger door open and nodded.

She got in slowly, quiet.

I slid in beside her and started driving with no destination. Just motion. Just space to breathe.

Neither of us spoke for the first few minutes.

Then she spoke, her voice soft but raw.

“I went to Terrence’s house. The one he shares with his boys off campus.”

I didn’t say a word. Just tightened my grip on the wheel and waited.

“His roommate—Jared, I think—let me in. Said he was upstairs with the door closed. I figured he was studying or messing with his little beats.”

---