I Hit First
The silence in the truck had stretched just long enough to start feeling heavy again when Koda sat back, cracked his knuckles once, and muttered, “Alright. That’s enough doom and folklore for one night.” I blinked. “What?” He threw the truck into gear, pulling away from the overlook without another word. “Where are we going?” I asked, tightening the blanket around my shoulders as the night air crept in through the cracked window. He didn’t answer. Just shot me a look—a crooked half-smile that was way too rare on his face. “Something fun.” I arched a brow. “That’s vague.” “On purpose.” “Koda.” He just shrugged, eyes on the road. “You trusted me with your secrets. Now trust me with your night.” That shut me up. We drove through the winding dark, away from the ridge and down toward
- Writer
