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 snatched 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?
Kyra: No growling. Bad dog.
Zach: Hey, how’s your day going?
Kyra: Same. Not much new. Yours?
Zach: I’m in Atlanta, Georgia. I think… Let me check.
Zach: Yeah, this is Atlanta.
Kyra: You forgot what city you’re in?
Zach: We never stay in one place very long. If I was at the arena, I’d know, but the hotels all kinda blur together. Except now we stay in fancier rooms. I’m used to the little regular rooms.
Kyra: You didn’t used to stay in the penthouse?
Zach: Are you kidding? No, we stayed in little rooms, and Ben, Zach, and I had to share. My mom would
William Meikle, Wayne Miller