One minute, I was in the third row with my first cousins Braeden and Truth, joking about how hard the damn stone seats were in the amphitheater. Kids were running around in reindeer pajamas, old folks had blankets over their laps, and Mr. Carter had brought gumbo that smelled too damn good.
The next minute, the speakers crackled, and Shayla’s voice came through loud and clear.
“Baby girl, the only reason he even walked up to you that day in the cafeteria was because Deon asked him to…”
My stomach dropped.
“What the—” Truth started.
“No,” I muttered, already halfway up.
Braeden grabbed my sleeve. “Jay, chill. Mic probably not even?—”
Shayla kept talking. Donique chimed in. Every word felt like a brick hitting me in the stomach.
“…you just an assignment he took real serious…”
“Shit,” I hissed.
I was gon’ kill them bitches, I swear. I didn’t feel my legs moving. I didn’t feel the cold. I barely heard Mr. Floyd yelling for someone to turn the mic off. All I knew was that I had to get backstage before Kyleigh ran, because she was gon’ run. That was what she did when she got overwhelmed, usually by retreating inside herself. I’d watched her pull everything in tight where no one could reach it.
I sprinted down the aisle, barely hearing the whispers starting up around me.
“Ain’t that…?”
“They talking about?—”
“Mrs. Amanda’s granddaughter?—”
I didn’t stop to look at anybody. I cut around the side of the stage, ignoring some teacher yelling about access, and burst through the curtains just in time to see her tear that headset off and run.
“Kyleigh!”
She din’t turn. By the time I caught up to her, my chest was burning. I didn’t know if it was from the run or the look on her face when she finally stopped. I felt like somebody had taken my biggest mistake, put it on a jumbo screen, and hit replay. Every time I swallowed the truth instead of saying it, every time I told myself I would come clean later, flashed through my head.
I should have told her. I should have told her the week after it happened. I should have told her the first time she came to mymama’s house and sat on the couch like she was scared to touch anything. I should have told her on Thanksgiving, when she was lying on my chest listening to my heartbeat like she was trying to memorize it.
And now, I just stood there in the cold, watching her walk away with my heart in her hands. She disappeared into the trees, red sweater bright against the dark. I took a step after her, but something made me stop. The sound of her voice telling me to leave her alone hit me harder than any punch I had ever taken.
I could go after her. I could show up at Mrs. Amanda’s door and beg. I could stand in her yard all night like some weak ass nigga in some movie. But she had asked me for one thing: to let her go.
“Jay,” Truth said behind me, breathing hard from catching up. “You straight?”
I laughed, but it sounded bitter. “Do I look straight?”
He grabbed my shoulder. “Honestly? Nah.”
Braeden jogged up, face tight. “Shayla loud ass gon’ get what is coming to her. You want me to talk to Deon? Because I will. That shit was foul,” he said.
“I’ll handle Deon,” I said, voice flat. “Shayla too. But that’s not what this is about right now.”
“What is it about?” Truth asked.
I stared at the spot where Kyleigh had disappeared. My whole future felt like it used to exist just past those trees. Now it was gone in ten minutes because of some irrelevant bitches, a gossiping ass nigga… and my own bad judgment.
“I fucked up. I thought I could control how this played out by picking when I told her. Should’ve been honest.”
“Granny been telling us that forever. ‘A lie hurts more than the truth,’” Truth mumbled.
