CHAPTER NINETEEN
KYE
Trell came to my mother’s house Monday morning carrying a duffel of clothes and chargers I had left at his apartment, wearing the face he used when he wanted forgiveness to look reasonable.
My mother saw him through the camera and told me to stay upstairs.
I came down anyway.
I wasn’t alone anymore.
The security camera recorded the porch. My mother stood behind the locked door with her phone ready. Jori had screenshots of the anonymous messages. I had changed every password connected to my name and signed my old iPad out at two in the morning.
Preparation didn’t make me fearless. It gave fear somewhere useful to go.
Trell knocked again.
“Kyla, I know you in there.”
My mother spoke through the door, “Leave the bag and go.”
“Ms. Denise, respectfully, this between me and her.”
“Respectfully, you put your hands on my daughter. Now, it’s between you and every person who loves her.”
His face changed for half a second before he remembered the camera.
“She tell you why we argued?”
I stepped beside my mother. “There is no reason that makes what you did okay.”
He looked at me through the glass. “Open the door so we can talk.”
“No.”
“I brought your stuff.”
“Put it down.”
“You really doing this?”
The old version of me would’ve heard pain in that question and rushed to prove I wasn’t cruel.
This morning, I heard entitlement.
“Yes.”
He laughed softly. “Over one push.”
My mother moved toward the lock.
I caught her arm. “Don’t.”
Trell kept talking. “You been lying to me about Cam, sneaking around, changing passwords, got your friends in our business, and I’m the bad person because I got mad?”
“You twisted my wrist and pushed me into furniture.”
“Because you fought me for the phone.”
“Listen to yourself.”
“I am. I’m the only one being honest.”
My stomach turned.
“Leave the bag and go.”
He lifted it instead. “Maybe I should take this to Ari. Since everybody telling secrets today.”
“She already knows enough to ask.”
“She don’t know what you texted Cam after.”
I went still.
At seventeen, after Cam chose Ari publicly, I sent him messages I had spent four years pretending didn’t exist.
You used me.
She don’t even know you like I do.
Don’t call me when she start acting spoiled.
Angry, jealous things from a girl who felt discarded and blamed the wrong person.
Trell smiled when he saw my face.
“I took pictures before you changed that password.”
My mother looked at me.
“Send them,” I said.
His smile faded.
My voice shook. I let it.
“Send every ugly thing I ever wrote. I’m telling her what I did. You don’t own me because you found the worst version of me.”
“You think she gonna forgive you?”
“That ain’t yours to decide.”
“She’ll forgive Cam first.”
I opened the door just enough to reach the bag while my mother held the frame behind me.
Trell didn’t let go.
“Move on from me if you want,” he said quietly. “But don’t act like you better.”
“I damn sure don’t have to be better than you to be done.”
I pulled once.
He released it so suddenly, I stumbled back.
My mother shut and locked the door.
Trell stood there another ten seconds, looking through the glass like he could make me come outside with anger alone. Then, he walked to his car.
We watched until he turned the corner.
My hands started shaking after he was gone.
My mother took the bag from me. “You did good.”
“I almost opened the door.”
“You didn’t.”
“I wanted him to understand.”
“Men like that understand. They just don’t agree your no matters.”
I pressed both palms to my face.
There wasn’t time to fall apart.
Ari was waiting.
At nine fifty-three, I pulled in front of her house behind Jori’s car. Nae sat in Jori’s passenger seat. Neither of them got out right away.
I stayed in my car too.
We looked like three women who had shown up for court without knowing which side we were on.
Jori finally opened her door.
Nae followed.
“You all right?” Nae asked when she saw my face.
“No.”
Jori looked toward my neck. “Did he come back?”
“This morning. My mom was there. Camera got everything.”
“We need to talk about the account after this,” she said.
“After.”
I carried a folder with printed screenshots because phones could be accused of editing. Sade had emailed hotel receipts, messages, videos, and dates. I had Cam’s threat recorded at the salon. Jori had the hotel hallway picture.
Proof couldn’t make the truth hurt less.
It could keep Cam from making Ari doubt her own eyes.
Ari opened the door before we knocked. She wore gray sweatpants, an oversized college sweatshirt, and no makeup. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun with edges she hadn’t touched.
I had seen her sick, grieving, half-asleep, and drunk enough to hug a toilet. I had never seen her answer the door without checking herself first.
That scared me.
“Come in,” she said.
Her mother wasn’t home. The living room blinds were open, letting too much morning light into everything.
Ari sat in the armchair. She left the couch for us.
None of us took it.
“Sit down,” she said.
We did.
Jori and Nae on the couch. Me on the edge of the loveseat across from Ari.
She looked at the folder in my hands.
“Did you sleep with him?”
No hello.
No chance to arrange the beginning.
“Yes.”
Nae’s breath caught.
Ari didn’t move. “When?”
“Senior year. After homecoming. One time.”
“Before or after I told you I liked him?”
“After.”
Her face folded for one second before she forced it still again.
“How long after?”
“About a week.”
“Where?”
“Domo’s cousin’s basement after a party.”
“Was I there?”
“Earlier. Your mom picked you up.”
Ari looked toward the window.
I remembered that night with disgusting clarity now that I had to hand it to her.
Ari leaving mad because her mother wouldn’t let her stay.
Me laughing when she begged me not to let Cam talk to another girl.
Me promising I wouldn’t.
“Did he come on to you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you stop him?”
“No.”
“Did you want him?”
My mouth dried. “Yes.”
Nae covered her mouth.
Jori stared at the floor.
Ari looked at me again. “Why?”
There were a hundred answers.
I was jealous.
I was seventeen.
Cam knew I liked him first.
Boys treated me like the funny friend while they called Ari beautiful.
None of them changed the choice.
“Because I was jealous and selfish,” I said. “You told me you liked him, and I still wanted to know if he would choose me. He said you were too worried about what everybody thought. He said I was easier to be around. I let that make me feel special.”
A tear rolled down Ari’s cheek. She didn’t wipe it.
“Then, he started dating me.”
“Yes.”
“And you helped me get ready.”
“Yes.”
“You sat on my bed while I cried because he didn’t text me after our first date.”
“Yes.”
Each answer took something from her face.
“You let me call you every time we fought.”
My own tears came. “I know.”
“Stop saying that like knowing is punishment enough.”
I closed my mouth.
She stood and paced once toward the stairs, then back. “Did it happen again?”
“No. Never.”
“Did you want it to?”
I thought about those old texts Trell had photographed.
“At first, yes. I was pissed as fuck when he chose you. I sent him things I shouldn’t have. Then, I stopped. I swear, I never touched him again.”
“How long did you keep talking to him like that?”
“A couple weeks.”
“Show me.”
“I don’t have the messages. Trell took pictures of some from my old iPad. He might send them.”
Ari laughed, and the sound broke in the middle. “Of course, there’s more.”
“I’m not hiding it. If he sends them, they’re real. I said ugly things.”
“About me?”
“Some.”
She looked like I had hit her.
Nae stood. “Ari, sit down before—”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Nae stopped.
Ari pointed at the folder. “And now?”
I held it out.
She didn’t take it.
“Cam has been seeing Sade for two months. Hotels, messages, everything. She thought he was leaving you because that’s what he told her.”
Ari’s face went blank.
“Jori got a hotel picture Thursday,” I said. “Sade sent me the car picture Friday after brunch. I should’ve told you then. I didn’t because Cam said if I did, he’d tell you about senior year.”
Her eyes moved to Jori.
“Thursday?”
Jori sat straighter. “I got it during work. I didn’t send it because you were at Muse and then it was your birthday. That was wrong.”
“How many hours did everybody spend deciding I was too fragile for my own life?”
Nobody answered.
“Nae knew?”
“Not until Saturday,” Nae said. “I only knew something was off.”
“But you still knew before me.”
Nae’s eyes filled. “Yes.”
Ari looked at all three of us.
“My best friends.”
The way she said it made the words sound embarrassing.
I put the folder on the coffee table. “There are copies. You don’t have to look right now.”
“Don’t tell me what I have to do.”
“You’re right.”
She picked up the folder and opened it.
The first page was a screenshot of Cam telling Sade he was tired of pretending with Ari.
Ari read it once. Then again. Her knees bent like the floor moved.
Jori stood, but Ari held one hand out.
“Don’t.”
She sat in the armchair and kept reading.
Hotel confirmation.
A picture of Cam asleep with the edge of Sade’s face visible beside him.
Messages about leaving after Ari’s birthday because he didn’t want family questions.
A video still from Sade’s apartment.
Ari made no sound.
I would’ve preferred screaming.
At the last page, her phone rang on the side table.
CAM.
Nobody moved.
It stopped.
Started again.
Ari picked it up and answered, “Come to my house.”
Cam’s voice was too low for us to hear.
“No,” she said. “Right now.”
She ended the call. Then, she looked at me.
“You stay.”
My stomach dropped. “Ari—”
“All of y’all stay. I want to see what he lies about when the whole truth is sitting in the room.”
The doorbell rang twelve minutes later.
Cam had always been good at showing up when Ari called.