Page 21 of Kings Don't Break

Because she was a girl. A good-looking one, as we all eventually noticed, with soft skin and nice-smelling hair.

But I don’t know this Korine.

I follow her outside the Autoshop feeling like I’m dealing with an impostor. This Korine’s more anxious mouse than bold lioness. She doesn’t talk and seems like she’ll do anything to get the hell away from me.

“Kori!” I yell as we start across the otherwise empty parking lot.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Seriously, what the hell did I do wrong? How’d I piss you off? Slow up!”

“Don’t talk to me!”

She tries her damnedest to speed up, pushing herself harder. But it’s as she tries to walk even faster that I notice the way her side seems to pain her for every step she takes. Instead of a smooth stride, she winces and drags herself forward. Almost a limp.

“What’s wrong with your side?” I call after her.

“I was in a car accident twenty-four hours ago. Mind your business!”

Anger rushes me. I show her what’s up—in a couple quick steps, I jog ahead and cut her off. She stumbles to a halt to avoid walking straight into me.

Her nostrils flare as her eyes narrow. “Move out of the way, Blake.”

“Not ’til you tell me what’s going on. It’s been ten years and you’re acting like we’re back in first grade and somebody told you I’ve got fucking cooties. What the hell’s up?”

I sense a smile. It’s almost there. For a quick second, as she shakes her head, her lips twitch as if the smile’s fighting to take shape. She forces it away before it ever does. Any flicker of personality disappears from her like it’s never existed.

She returns to glaring. “You need to let me pass and accept I don’t want to talk to you.”

“What’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting different from the moment I saw you on the side of the road.”

“Because one moment by the highway is enough to make a judgment on someone’s behavior,” she snipes, crossing her arms and giving a roll of her eyes. “You don’t know anything about me. You knew a girl over a decade ago that was still just that. A girl. A naive, stupid girl who didn’t know squat. You don’t know a damn thing about who I am today. I’m a whole grown-ass woman, Blake—and I don’t owe you any answers.”

“I never said you did?—”

“You’ve been asking twenty-one questions every second I’ve been around you,” she interrupts, more hostility filling her voice out.

It flashes in her dark eyes to the point I’m questioning if I’m seeing things. Does Korine really hate me this much? Did I really screw things up between us this badly, and I’ve spent the last decade oblivious to that fuck up?

Here I was, thinking, imagining, we were still friendly at the very least. It seems, like usual with matters of the heart, I misjudged big time. I must’ve hurt Korine more than I ever realized. Hurt that’s been left to fester and rot for ten long years.

I sigh, lifting a hand to rub the back of my neck. “Look, clearly, there’s some bad feelings between us. Bad feelings I didn’t realize were there. If I hurt you?—”

She scoffs, her expression souring even more. “You think that’s what this is about? That I’m still so heartbroken ten fucking years later that I’m being mean to you now? I’ve spent the last decade hung up on you? Blake Cash, you’ve always been cocky, but do you hear yourself right now? I’m married. You might think you’re god’s gift to women?—”

“You obviously hate me!” I growl over her. For the first time since our recent reunion, I raise my voice with her. I let my own pent-up anger rear its nasty head. My hands grow animated, my gestures expressing this anger, as I step toward her.

She goes silent. Her gaze falls on those hands, like I’ve given some signal that’s put her into a trance, or she’s been frozen in a block of ice.

It makes me freeze up too, lost as to what’s going on. My temper fades away. In its wake is a weak pulse of confusion that makes me tilt my head to the side. “Kori?” I say much quieter. “Hey… you alright? What’s wrong?”

But getting through to Korine in this moment feels impossible—she’s at a standstill, her face glazed over, her eyes unfocused. If I didn’t know any better, it’s one of those reactions they say people go through when they get caught in fight or flight mode. Except Korine’s caught in freezing up. She’s practically become catatonic.

“Kori,” I say when seconds go by and she still hasn’t moved. She comes to her senses slowly. The ice melts away, thawing out ’til she’s able to blink, and then she’s peering at me like she recognizes me again. She’s taking a step back as I take one forward.

I’ve noticed something else about her—since seeing her for the first time since high school, I’ve marveled at how she’s still the same. Just a little older. Her features that I know so well are the same except more defined, less girlish, more womanly. Except her beautiful bare face isn’t bare for once.

“You’re wearing makeup,” I blurt out.