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Hyla: What’s wrong?
My desperation takes over, tears blurring my eyes as I type.
Me: Will you come over?
Her response is instantaneous.
Hyla: On my way.
I set my phone back on the table as tears slide down my cheeks. Having her here might break my heart more, but we always show up for each other. Even in the worst moments. And this is the worst moment I’ve had in a while.
Hyla flies through the door like a whirlwind. She’s always been that way. I’m still sitting in the same spot on the floor. Still crying. Still pathetic as hell.
Hyla slips off her shoes, drops her bag, and runs over to me, dropping to her knees next to me. She pushes some hair off my face and wipes my cheeks.
“Kenz? What happened?”
I sniff and turn to her. Her wide blue eyes are filled with calm and love. Not the romantic type—the Hyla type. The endless fountain of love she is for everyone in her life.
I sputter out a few semi-coherent sentences to get the point across, and she sits down and wraps her arm around me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry. You deserve better than that. She’ll realize what she lost, and—”
“All she lost was dead weight holding her back from her dreams.”
Hyla yanks her head off my shoulder and turns to me with a fierce look. “Mackenzie Sofia Montoya, don’t you ever talk about yourself like that. You are no one’s dead weight. You are a light. A bright spot in everyone else’s dull or dark days. You are funny and warm and bring happiness to those around you.” She pauses for a moment. “That’s why I’ve always called you my angel.”
My eyes lock on hers as the memory of that day hits me right in the heart. We were in high school and we were lying on my bed. Hyla was upset over something that had happened with her parents and frustrated with the trajectory of her life, and I’d said something trying to make her feel better, and she kissed my forehead and looked into my eyes and told me I was the bright spot in her life. I brought her joy and was her light in the darkness. That I was so good and loving, like an angel. Since then, in all our quiet, stolen moments, she’s called me “Angel” though she’s mostly stopped over the last year or two.
My heart aches for so many reasons. I miss the sound of that word on her lips. The way she’d look at me like I was love incarnate. The way her eyes would dance with happiness when we saw each other. Mari hurt me, but that’s not the only hurt twisting in my heart tonight, and I don’t know how I feel. I know how I want to feel. Comforted. Cherished. Loved.
“Kenz,” Hyla whispers, looking at me with uncertainty. She’s the only one who calls me “Kenz” besides my dad, stepmother, and stepbrother.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, looking into her gorgeous whiskey eyes with deep brown flecks. My whirlwind. My chaos. I miss her being mine.
Her eyes shift back and forth, and before I let myself list off the million reasons why I shouldn’t—I lean forward and slant my mouth over hers, desperate for a taste of her. For the relief only her kisses seem to give.
It takes her a second to give in, but once she does, she kisses me back hard. That’s the way Hy does everything. Full of passion and intensity.
She slips a hand into my hair, playing with my tight curls.
Not much helps a hurting heart, but this does. She always does.
I move closer, then slowly run one hand up her thigh.
She inhales sharply, then bristles and jolts back.
No. God damn it.
I want to grab her arms and pull her to me again, but her big, vulnerable eyes tell me I shouldn’t. I can’t.
“Kenz,” she whispers. “We can’t do this. Not tonight. We’ll both regret it if we do.”
I push myself off the floor and walk over to the window, trying to force back tears.
“I shouldn’t have texted you,” I whisper, quickly wiping my eyes. “That was a mistake.”
She walks over to me and grabs my hand, jerking me toward her, so I have no choice but to look at her. “I can still comfort you, take care of you—just not like that.” She stares at me for a moment, then pulls me into her arms. Sobs wrench in my chest again as I wrap my arms around her back. Sometimes I hate that her hugs still comfort me, but I want that comfort any way I can have it. “If you want me to stay, I’ll be here all night. I have to leave tomorrow morning, but I’ll stay as long as I can.”
