Twenty-Four
Kylie
It’s Wednesday morning and the bumper-to-bumper traffic is giving me a headache. I press the heel of my hand against the horn and let the long blast express my frustration. The guy in the line next to me grins. I scoff and turn away.
By the time the traffic flows again, the lovely sedan in front of me cruises down the street. A woman is driving. Giving all of us a bad name. I blast her with my horn when I overtake the van.
“Learn to drive, honey,” I mumble.
Ten minutes later, I skate into my parking spot and shoot up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. My heart is pounding when I reach the right floor. A hand to my cheek reveals I’m burning up from the sudden exercise.
The moment I walk inside the studio, the entire room falls silent. The hush is deeper
