Break It Up Part 4

Zach: It's very lonely, yeah, so sorry if I talk your ear off.

Kyra: No, don't worry about it.

Zach: When my mom left, we had to get the police to escort her off our property. We took out a restraining order against her.

Kyra: I'm surprised the media didn't find out.

Zach: Well, our mom has her ways of preventing that kind of thing.

I stare at that text for a long time. The media know how to get at anyone, anytime almost. I've heard of people cutting deals to bribe them and such, but I can't imagine what kind of bribe would keep a tidbit like this a secret. I wonder how legal Zach's mother's "ways" are. "Still," I type, "that's gotta be rough."

Zach: It is. Our new manager's nice, though. His name's Rick and he's very hands off. I worry that this is the wrong direction to go, because we were so successful with Mom.

Kyra: Is it hard to get the three of you to agree on one manager?

Zach: Yep. Really hard. 'Could possibly break up the band' kind of hard.

All of these messages he sends me are media tidbits worth big money. I wonder whether he's messing with me or really that naive.

Kyra: Well, definitely don't let the media find out about that. You can trust me, though :-) There, the ultimate test-the smiley face in the text.

Zach: I do trust you, yeah. Thanks for talking to me about this.

My knees are jelly again after that last text. I cannot handle this. This text conversation has been spread across several insanely stressful days, during which I've only had to work one s.h.i.+ft at Jen's restaurant. (I fill in whenever they are short staffed.) This has left me way too much time to obsess. What are you doing, Kyra? I ask myself.

I grab my phone and call Chloe. "Can you go to the movies with me or something?" I ask when she answers.

"Not tonight, but tomorrow, sure." She sounds exhausted.

I really shouldn't be bothering her. "Okay..."

"What's up?"

"Nothing new. Not really..."

"You need to talk?"

"Maybe..."

"Listen, I'll call you later on tonight, okay? You'll be all right until then?"

"Yeah."

"Love you."

Those words startle me. "Thanks," is all I manage to say before we hang up. Not that I think Chloe's cold or anything-far from it. It's just the first time she's used those words with me, and now I feel stupid for being so awkward. I should have said them back, because I do love Chloe. She's amazing.

Jen waddles into the room. "Who was that?"

"Chloe. I might go over to their place later."

"Did she call you or you call her?"

"I called."

Jen frowns.

Great, what have I done wrong?

"Sweetie, have you been watching the news at all?"

"No. Why? More stuff about Jason supposedly cheating?"

"Well, yes, there's that, and then there's the case she's working on. It's a violent kidnapping and they still haven't found the little girl."

Yeah...I should really pay attention to the news. See, the thing about Chloe is, she was kidnapped by her older brother when she was eleven and shot three times. It was a miracle she survived, and here's an example of how small a town Albuquerque is in some ways: Jen and Jason's parents, who were both with the DA's Office, knew about her case. They even worked on it some and helped put her brother in jail. When Jason brought her to dinner that first time, they were thrilled to see that the little girl who'd almost died had grown up into this beautiful, hyper-competent woman. This current case is not what she needs on top of all the tabloids buzzing away with stories about Jason being unfaithful.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk to her."

"Honey, it's fine. Just know that she and Jason are a little stressed out right now."

"I'll leave them alone."

Jen pulls me in for a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead as she walks past me. "You're fine. They love you. Just don't feel bad if they don't have much time for you right now."

"Right."

A couple of hours later, Chloe calls to invite me over to their house, and I go, even though I know it's selfish. My issues are nothing compared to theirs right now. Still, I spill my guts to the two of them about my feelings for Zach.

"LISTEN, KYRA..." Jason says. "Even if he likes you, he's not a person. He's a brand. He doesn't have control over his own life. Where he's at right now? I've been there, kind of. Whatever he does has to be spun one way or another by his 'team', and his mother's famous for being a stage mom on crack. A girlfriend probably isn't in the cards right now. She wouldn't allow it. And a non-famous girl who's a racial minority... I know that's completely unfair, but that's how the world is sometimes."

We're standing in Jason and Chloe's enormous living room with its cathedral ceiling decorated in stained gla.s.s and picture windows that show the sweep of the Sandia Mountains reaching up to the starry sky above.

Chloe stands beside me, fidgeting. All is not well with her and Jason. I can tell, and I hate it. They can't break up. Not after everything they've been through. No one deserves happily ever after more.

Now isn't the time to delve into my issues, to tell Jason that momager is gone and have a general meltdown about how confused I feel. I'm pretty sure Zach doesn't think of me as a potential girlfriend. That's just never been my role. The only relations.h.i.+ps I've ever had were extended hookups when the guy I was with got territorial.

I look from Chloe to Jason and back again, taking in their stressed-out demeanors, and let the conversation end. After I'm done nodding in agreement to whatever Jason says, I let Chloe take me into their kitchen, which is big enough to land a commercial airliner in, and feed me Pie Pops - one of the best sympathy foods ever. I found them in the freezer section of Sprouts and they are the ice cream version of chocolate silk and apple pie on a stick.

My phone buzzes as we seat ourselves in the solarium-the all-gla.s.s room off the kitchen with more stunning views of the Sandias, the foothills, and Albuquerque's glinting lights spread across the plain. I pull the phone out of my pocket and steal a discreet glance.

Zach:I hope I'm not putting you off. Sorry to complain so much.

Quickly I tap out a reply.

Kyra: You aren't! I'm glad you talk to me. Sorry to not reply there. Had a busy evening.

I've been busy stressing.

Zach: Oh, okay. Well, I'll try not to be such a wet blanket, lol.

If I reply to that, Chloe will notice and probably deduce who it is on my phone. Like Jason says, she's a forensic scientist. She doesn't miss much. But she seems preoccupied, so I chance it.

Kyra: You aren't. I bet you don't have many people to talk to about this, so I'm really glad you talk to me.

Chloe doesn't bat an eye.

Zach: I don't, no. So thank you.

I'm not sure whether to grin or cry. Chloe doesn't notice. She's just staring out the windows of the solarium as we eat our ice cream.

ON MY way out of their house, I get a text from another California number I don't recognize. It's a selfie of Ben at a club, holding up a beer, and with it is a message.

Ben: Cheers!

I roll my eyes.

Kyra: Wow, you're the first person to drink underage, evah!

Ben: What??? No, I'm just holding this for a friend.

Kyra: Oh, right. Uh-huh.

Ben: Don't tell my mommy.

Kyra: Or your aunt.

Ben: I would have to kill you if you did that.

I put my phone back in my purse and shake my head.

THE DAYS roll on and so do the texts from Zach. Whole conversations take place in little s.n.a.t.c.hed moments between the more mundane events of my life.

Zach: So enough about me and my issues. How are you doing?

Kyra: I'm fine. Things are pretty sad around here, though.

Zach: Why?

Kyra: That case that Chloe's working on doesn't look good. They still haven't found the little girl.

Zach: What's Chloe do again?

Kyra: She's a forensic scientist, so she works in the crime lab.

Zach: Oh. How old's the little girl?

Kyra: Ten, I think. Her name's Esperanza. Kind of ironic.

Zach: I don't follow. Why is the little girl's name ironic?

Kyra: Esperanza means "hope" in Spanish.

Zach: Oh, gotcha. You speak Spanish?

Kyra: Yeah.

Zach: What do you speak at home?

Kyra: It used to be mostly Spanish, but when my dad married Jen, we pretty much switched to English. She knows some Spanish, but it's textbook Spanish, not New Mexican.

Ben: What up, Kyra?

Kyra: The opposite of down. You really shouldn't try to get homework help from fans. That's cheating.

Ben: You're HI-larious Kyra: Yep.

Zach: New Mexico has its own Spanish?

Kyra: Yeah, I guess ours is really old. Like from the 16th century or something.

Zach: That is way cool.

Kyra: I dunno. People from Mexico and places like that think it's kinda ghetto. Do you speak any foreign languages?

Zach: Not really. My grandparents live in Germany and we used to spend a few weeks in the summer with them, but not anymore. No time.

Kyra: That's rough.

Zach: It's the price of fame.

Kyra: Things just got really bad...

Zach: What happened?

Kyra: They found the little girl.

Zach: Is she all right?

Kyra: No, she's dead. Poor Chloe! I called her and stuff but she's having a rough time.

Zach: I can't imagine having a job like that.

Kyra: Me neither.

Ben: Hey grrrrl ;-) Kyra: *swats Ben on the nose with a rolled up newspaper*

Ben: Excuse me?