Shianne: Zoey had the worst night last night. So I had the worst night, too. Maybe later this week.

I toyed with the idea of texting Jameer. Naw. Knowing how his parents rolled, he was probably in a prayer closet at that very moment.

Already bored with my reclaimed freedom, I couldn’t stand the idea of returning home. I drove, aimless at first, but quickly recognizing I’d picked a destination, if only subconsciously at first. The library.

There were authors whose names were drilled into me because of MJ. Gloria Naylor. James Baldwin. Walter Dean Myers. Tiffany D. Jackson. Kwame Alexander. Nic Stone. Meg Medina. Jason Reynolds. Gene Luen Yang. Lilliam Rivera. Cindy Pon. Before long, I was balancing a stack of books and duck-walking to an armchair, lowering the stack to the floor. Sampling a chapter or two, I worked through the pile, then revisited the volumes that struck me most.

When the PA announcement said the library would close in fifteen minutes, I checked out three books, and took them home to find Dad placing delivered pizzas on the counter. Mom joined us, and I told them about my reading. It was the first conversation I’d participated in that wasn’t church related, job related, annoyance related in . . . I couldn’t remember. Time passed quickly; by the time I got upstairs, and Kiera slammed back into my head with the force of a tossed kettlebell, dazing me, I recognized there was light beyond the all-consuming maneuvering to be in her world.

That light winked out.

Me: You home?

Kiera: Yep.

Me: I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but, even though we don’t have the Pledge anymore, I thought we could still hang out. Be friends.

Kiera: Friends sounds good.

Me: That’s awesome. Glad to hear.

Kiera: Yeah.

The texts went on like that for the better part of an hour. Her responses slow and erratically spaced. The drive-thru chill hit me again, and I couldn’t take not knowing what to say, or do, or feel about it all. So, I went all in . . .

Me: I gotta ask you something important. I hope it’s all right.

Kiera: What is it?

Me: The night I saw you with Mason at FISHto’s . . . are you two together now?

My worst fear was no response. The bubble appearing, then gone, with no more contact tonight. I’d probably die and decompose in my bed. But, her response was quick and direct.

Kiera: lol

Kiera: Me and Mason together? He’s a friend. Nicer than I thought he could be, but, nope. No way.

I could’ve floated to the ceiling.

Me: Yo, let’s hang out this week.

Kiera: Maybe. We’ll see.

Mason wasn’t her boyfriend and maybe wasn’t no. That was something I could work with. Given the hours I’d been putting in at FISHto’s, I had a nice check coming. Maybe we could get out of Green Creek. A road trip like the kind I’d originally planned. Without the burden of Purity Pledge, or Newsome, or Mason, or anything hanging over us.