Page 5 of No Cap

“Ohh, big scary.” Taite waived his hands in front of him like he was facing an angry child and not a seething mad adult. “You’re hot, though. Why don’t you come up here?”

I scoffed and snatched up my purse. “You fucking wish, fuck face. Come on, Keda. Let’s get out of here.”

There were people laughing all around us, but I didn’t pay any of them any attention.

Instead, I walked with Keda to the bathroom where she hurriedly did her business.

I waited outside the stalls, hating the look of defeat on her face as she came out.

“You want to go eat?” I asked, hoping she’d say yes, but knowing she’d say no.

Not after what that asshole had done.

“Um, no,” she said softly. “I just want to go home.”

I cursed Taite DeRosa all the way back to Keda’s apartment.

The drive to her place was done in relative peace.

We hit no traffic, and before long, I was pulling up to her apartment’s front door. When we stopped, I had my hand on the door handle intending to get out with her, but she put her hand out. “I love you, Hollis. I really do. But I need a little bit of space right now.”

I hated that she was shutting me out.

I hated even more that I would give her what she wanted.

Keda and I had about the same income level, but her family was much more well off than mine had been, allowing her to have a little extra padding when it came to her living accommodations.

Me, on the other hand? I lived in a one-bedroom apartment in downtown Dallas, and I knew that there were about four people in my building who sold drugs.

But those were things that happened when you were ninety thousand dollars in debt from student loans, and your parents didn’t help you pay for anything, unlike your siblings.

The day I was able to afford this piece of shit Corolla had been a beautiful day for me. I could get to class on time without having to worry about the bus or relying on a friend to pick me up if that bus was late. I could get to my job.

I could get anywhere I needed to go.

But the friend I most relied on was sitting in the car next to me.

I still remembered the night I’d gotten the call that she’d been in that accident.

I’d been at the ER doing a shift for my rad tech program. I’d gotten the call from Keda’s mom just as she’d been rolled into the ER. She’d been broken. Utterly and unendingly broken.

She’d had so much damage to her small body, and it was an utter miracle that she was where she was today.

“Keda,” I said softly, “look at me.”

Keda: Balter: to dance gracelessly, without particular art or skill, but perhaps with some enjoyment.

Hollis: Screw you.

—Text from Keda to Hollis

HOLLIS

She wouldn’t look at me.

She had her head bowed, and she was staring at her lap with her shoulders deflated.

“Keda, babe. Please?”