Fakers (20 page)

“Screw that,” Kyra growled. Stevie looked up
at her in surprise. “I’ll pay for it. We’ll pay for it. I don’t
give a crap who pays for it as long as it’s not them. But don’t let
them make you do a show because you’re worried about money. You can
live with me.”

“Really?” Stevie’s voice trembled slightly.
It was a tone Kyra had never heard before. It was weak, like a
little girl on the verge of tears. And even now, Stevie’s big green
eyes brimmed with them. Something in her expression told Kyra that
Stevie’s life had been full of fake friends and bad relationships.
She’d probably never been offered something out of pure love.

And it infuriated Kyra. She didn’t know much
about parents. Actually, she didn’t know anything besides the kind
of stilted love her aunt and uncle had shown her—not like that
wasn’t good enough, but it wasn’t a mother or father’s love. But
Stevie’s parents were alive, and she should’ve had better.

“Yes,” Kyra said, her voice strong.
“Whatever it takes. We can pick a place together and work out the
cost. Then you can live with me if they take your house.” She
leaned forward, gripping Stevie’s hand and feeling a determination
to help her friend that she’d never felt for her health. “But
fuck
them.”

“Fuck who?”

“And who are you?”

Kyra looked over her shoulder as she pushed
to her feet. Stevie’s parents walked in the door and flipped on the
lights, making Stevie cringe. Without thinking, Kyra shielded
Stevie behind her as she fully turned to the couple in the
room.

“I’m Kyra, Stevie’s best friend. And this is
Hale.” She gritted her teeth, seconds away from going off on
someone.

Mrs. Andrews scoffed. “Only family is
allowed in here. So I think you should leave. Now.”

“I want them to stay,” Stevie said weakly
from behind Kyra.

“Stephanie, you need your parents right
now.” The woman looked back at Kyra and Hale. “If you two don’t
leave now, you will be forcibly removed.” As if she could sense
drama brewing, she leaned back out the door and motioned in the
cameramen. When Kyra realized Stevie’s mom wanted to catch all this
on film, she lost it.

“Are you fucking serious?” she hissed. Her
words were borderline yelling. “Get those fucking things out of
here!”

“Excuse me?!” Mrs. Andrews gasped, but she
motioned for the crew to start recording.

“I’ll have you watch your language around my
daughter and wife,” Stevie’s dad said, pointing his finger at
Kyra.

“Oh, really?” she snapped. “I think you two
are disgusting people. How could you bring those things in here
when your daughter is in the hospital? So, no, I won’t watch my
language. And actually, I’ll add that you’re both fucking pieces of
shits that don’t even deserve to be crapped out of a dog’s
ass!”

Mrs. Andrews gasped. “What did you just say
to me?”

“You heard me,” Kyra growled.

“Security!” Mr. Andrews yelled out the
door.

“Turn those off right now,” Hale said,
stepping around Kyra and blocking her. She peered around his
massive shoulders and saw the closest cameraman had raised his
camera and started recording.

The man didn’t lower the camera or turn it
off. Hale advanced, and Stevie’s mom quickly backed out the room.
Hale wrenched the camera out of the crew guy’s hands. With a grunt,
he brought the thing down on his knee, shattering it with a
symphony of cracks and splinters.

“You’ll pay for that!” the man
stuttered.

“Perfect,” Hale said, tossing the camera
calmly aside. “Send me the fucking bill.”

Kyra saw the guards rushing down the hall.
She quickly turned to Stevie and kissed her cheek. “Sorry, Stevie.
I’ll text you.”

“Don’t apologize. This made my day so much
better.”

The rent-a-cops came in the room, their eyes
darting between the broken camera and Hale’s formidable size. They
advanced toward them until Hale stopped them with a seething look.
“Touch her, and I’ll break you like that camera right there. We can
walk out just fine.”

He took Kyra’s arm and guided her through
the crowd of bodies and out the door. The cops followed them
closely. As they left, Ethan smiled and gave them the thumbs-up
sign.

“I’ll have you arrested for destruction of
property!” Stevie’s dad called down the hall.

“Sounds like fun!” Hale hollered back.

The security guys walked them all the way
out of the hospital and to Hale’s truck. He opened Kyra’s door for
her before he went around to his side. The tires spun as he
rocketed out of the parking lot.

“I can’t believe we just got kicked out of a
hospital,” Kyra said, groaning. She was crashing back down from her
anger high, and now she just felt like crap.

“They deserved it.”

“I just feel bad that we left Stevie alone
with them.”

“She can handle it.” He turned out onto the
main road that led back to Kyra’s house.

“I know.”

He glanced at her before he reached over and
took her hand. With a squeeze he said, “Have I mentioned that it
turns me on when you curse?”

She groaned again. “Oh, gosh. I think I
blacked out. I don’t even remember what I said.”

He laughed, the sound easing her nerves
enough that she smiled over at him. “I think it was something about
how her parents weren’t even good enough to be dog shit.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” she said, laughing. “I’m
embarrassed for myself.”

“Nah. You just need some work on picking
better metaphors. I give it an A for effort though.”

“I meant I’m embarrassed that I said that!”
she said, truly laughing now. “Not that it was bad swearing!”

“Fuck that.”

nineteen

K
yra didn’t sleep
after Hale dropped her off. Part of her wished he would’ve stayed
and held her through the night, but that was silly. She didn’t need
him to comfort her—or that’s what she told herself as she tossed
and turned all night. All she could see was Stevie’s cut face and
her big, scared eyes staring up at Kyra from the hospital bed.

Finally, at four in the morning, she gave up
on sleep. It was too early to go to the hospital, so she did a
brutal circuit training workout on the beach. When she came back
inside, she was dripping in sweat and sand. Her hands and feet were
raw, and tendrils of her hair were plastered to the side of her
neck. She took the stairs slowly, as her muscles wavered and
buckled beneath her.

By the time she’d showered and drank her
protein shake, it was almost a decent hour to go to the hospital.
On her way, she picked up some blueberry scones from Maggie’s
Bakery to take to Stevie. The bag was warm and oozing delicious
smells as Kyra walked to the double sliding doors at the hospital’s
entrance.

When she walked into a gust of cold air, a
lady sitting at the front desk looked up and frowned instantly.
Kyra’s stomach twisted. “Ma’am,” the lady called before Kyra could
duck past.

“Yes?” Kyra asked, redirecting herself to
the front desk. Tall green plants along with pleasing
neutral-colored paint tried to cheer up the place, but the
decorations couldn’t do anything about the typical hospital smell
that permeated the place, no matter how many plants littered the
entrance.

“Please state your name,” the lady said, her
eyes on a clipboard in front of her.

“I’m just here to see my friend.” Kyra held
up the bag of scones, plastering a sugary-sweet smile on her face.
“Would you like a scone?”

“Ma’am, your name please.”

“Kyra Aberdeen,” she said with a sigh.

“Ms. Aberdeen, you’ve been temporarily
banned from the hospital,” the lady said with a sniff. Her hair was
teased and hair sprayed within an inch of its life. She wore a
shirt buttoned up all the way to her throat and had a neat cardigan
draped over her shoulder. She looked like Kyra’s fifth-grade
teacher, which meant Kyra had a better chance of getting past a
fire-breathing dragon than this woman.

“Okay,” she said with a small smile, feeling
defeated. “I’m sorry for the hassle. Have a good day.”

The lady harrumphed when Kyra’s back was
turned. The doors whooshed open, and the morning sun tickled her
skin. The parking lot was empty besides her Jeep and one more car
pulling in. It was a beat up Honda that sputtered and jerked when
it turned off. She wasn’t surprised when Dr. Ethan Faraday stepped
out wearing rumpled clothes and crooked sunglasses.

She wasn’t in the mood to talk, but when
Ethan recognized her and waved, she stopped. “Hey, Dr. Faraday,”
she said, adjusting her grip on the bag of scones.

“Bleh. That name sounds like a vicious
wedgie. Call me Ethan.” He shoveled his hair out of his face. “Did
you come to hang with Stevie?”

Kyra smiled at the doctor, but even she
could tell it was a bad attempt. “Apparently I’m banned from the
hospital.”

“I’m not surprised. The Andrews put up quite
a stink when you two left yesterday. They were getting so annoying
that I thought I was going to have to sedate myself.”

“That bad, huh?” Kyra asked, feeling a real
smile tugging at her lips.

“Pretty killer.” Ethan shrugged, dragging
out the word for a few extra syllables and making Kyra giggle. “I
can’t let you into the hospital, but she rested through the night.
She just needs to stay until Saturday afternoon, and then she can
go home.”

“That long?” Kyra didn’t bother keeping the
alarm from her voice.

“Just precautions. Her rib injuries were
pretty bad, and it’s typical to keep a patient that long with a
brutal knock to the head.” Ethan patted her arm awkwardly for a
second, like he was trying to comfort her. “Anyway, I better
scoot.”

“Thanks for the information, Ethan.” Kyra
remembered the bag in her hand. “Can you take these to Stevie?
There’s plenty in there for you too.”

Ethan grinned and took the scones she
offered. “Oh, yeah, man. Love these things. Cool!”

“You’re welcome,” Kyra said and waved.

Driving back to her house, she couldn’t stop
yawning. Her lack of sleep the night before was catching up to her,
so she stopped at a gas station and filled up the Jeep and bought
some coffee. By the time she got back to her house, the hammering
was in full swing since Hale had called the crew to work.

Kitchen cabinets were being reinstalled
since all the walls were up and the rooms were painted in the
sea-blue palette Kyra had picked out. The cabinets were Hale’s
custom design, but a local cabinetmaker had built them. Even though
he could make them himself, he’d insisted on using local shops for
everything he could.

By the end of the day, she would have her
kitchen almost ready. Her new appliances would be plugged in, and
she could finally start using a real refrigerator and stove, which
meant she could try out a vegan cookie recipe she’d been waiting to
try.

Hale wasn’t in the front room when she
entered, but she waved to Chevy and the other guys and went
upstairs. Her bedroom was bright and cheerful. The gauzy curtains
fluttered in the ocean breeze. A clammy sheen of salt seemed to
coat every surface. Kyra plugged in her phone and texted
Stevie.

Kyra:
Hope you’re feeling better.
Sorry I can’t be there :(

Later in the day, with upbeat music filling
Kyra’s room, she realized something. Her fingers stilled against
the keyboard where she’d been editing. Hale had told her she should
use her videos to be real and honest, and she had an opportunity
now to do something like that.

Turning on her equipment, she took her spot
on the floor. The image came up on the screen, and she saw herself.
Her hair was tossed up in a messy bun, and her face was makeup
free. It wasn’t her best look, but Kyra didn’t want to take the
time to get ready and possibly second-guess her decision. She
pushed the record button and took a deep breath.

“Hey, everyone,” she said. “Today’s video is
going to be a little different, because I want to talk about
something serious.” Kyra offered the camera a slight smile.
“Everyone needs help sometimes. And we need to be able to ask for
help, or recognize when a friend or family member needs it.”

For once, she didn’t stop and retake certain
parts of her video. She didn’t stop talking, because she was afraid
she’d lose her nerve. She went straight through, in one continuous
take, and when she was done, she stopped the video and saved it.
She wasn’t going to edit it or add music like she did to her other
ones. She wasn’t going to make it cute or funny. Instead, she
uploaded it straight to Youtube.

Something in the act of making that video
had eased the tension stretching across her chest. Kyra took a full
breath for the first time all day. Hale had been right; it felt
good to be honest.

Before her eyes even landed on the ocean,
she wanted to go surfing. But then she saw her back garden and blew
a piece of hair out of her face. She needed to get the weeds pulled
and the bushes hacked down to size before the ladies of the
neighborhood came by again. Kyra made a face.

She put on old work clothes and sunscreen.
On her way out her bedroom door, she pulled on a baseball cap,
tucking her hair through the back. Downstairs, everyone was still
in the kitchen, so she went outside unnoticed.

She started in the front since it was the
worst and more visible to everyone passing on the street. Once she
set about the task, it didn’t take her as long as she thought,
since she’d already worked on it once before. She dumped countless
loads of weeds in the big dumpster in her driveway, but when she
was done, there was actually a clear path to her front porch. The
garden almost looked bare without all the overgrowth. Kyra stood on
the porch to admire her work as she wiped the sweat from her
eyes.