FIVE-INCH HEELS CLACK against the floor as Kiara Coleman walks across the airport, and I watch her for a second in amusement. She’s the only person I know who would ever wear sweatpants with heels. Kiara’s 5’4” and she’s not the biggest fan of her height. She’s been wearing deathtraps as heels since she was fifteen. She’s also my best friend. Her face splits into a grin when she notices me, and I immediately rush toward her, pulling her into a hug.
“Oh my god, you’re here!” I squeal, squeezing the life out of her.
“Lena,” she chokes out. “Can’t breathe.”
I laugh before letting go and getting a good look at her. With her pin-straight long black hair, smooth mahogany skin, and brown eyes that are currently hidden behind the enormous sunglasses she’s wearing, my best friend is one of the m
