Five agonizing minutes pass while I sit on my bedroom floor and stare at my closet door.
Kyra: Yes. Are you? I hope you washed that road rash on your hand and leg so you don't get infected.
God. Why does she always try to take care of me?
Me: I will.
Kyra: Have you heard any news on the big fluffy dog?
Me: Not yet.
Kyra: I like him a lot. He just wanted love, even though he was hurt and lost. He reminds me of you.
My chest contracts.
Me: Ya think?
Kyra: Yup.
Me: I'm sorry I scared you.
Kyra: You never scare me, Tor.
Shit. Wrong answer, little girl. Wrong. f*****g. Answer.
Kyra: Maybe you're scared.
I want to throw my phone against the wall. I don't know what to say to that. I'm afraid to say anything because I don't trust anything about myself right now. This kid has always h
