Kyle
I was counting the days until I could see Maya again, much like the way I used to feel when I’d first met her and finally worked up the courage to talk to her. But this was different, I reminded myself, to calm my nerves. This was Maya, the one girl I had always loved and the girl I shouldn’t have lost. Maybe now I would have the chance to make it right.
When I came home from work on Thursday, my phone rang. I fished for the cordless receiver between the couch pillows and picked up the call before the machine kicked in.
“Yeah?”
“Kyle, you’re home,” Kina said, sounding surprised. “I’m so glad I caught you.”
I couldn’t say the same. If I hadn’t known it was Kina, I would have let the machine take the call then erased her message. But I was talking to her now, and I couldn’t be rude
