Intensity (Book One) *SAMPLE* (Published)

Two

The buzzing against her hip was incessant. It would stop for a few seconds only to begin again with an indication of a new voicemail and another call. Frustrated and annoyed, Kya stopped talking mid-sentence to yank the strap of her purse over her shoulder. Gliding her thumb over the screen, she saw the same number that had been calling non-stop since early that morning, appeared again, causing her frown to deepen.

"No se habla por teléfono!" A hand came down over the screen of her phone, threatening to pull it from her grasp, "And no texting. I brought you here to have fun, not sext all night." Angel screamed over the music, grabbing Kya with her other hand in an attempt to make her dance.

Typical Angel. Since meeting her at work several months back, Kya had come to realize that it was her solution to everything. Dance it out or fight and when drinks were involved, the two seemed to converge magically. When her friend didn't get her desired response, she released Kya's hand but continued to whip her hair wildly. Ignoring her, Kya snatched her phone back and continued to read the text.

"I wasn't sexting," her expression was flat and just as annoyed, "it's my father."

Hearing that, Angel stilled. Quickly she squeezed in next to Kya to see the text for herself. In small bold print, a plea for a callback came across with a sense of urgency. For what seemed like forever, Kya stared at it. What could he possibly have to say to her after so much time had passed? Most importantly, why did he think he had a right to talk to her at all?

When her fingers began to move, she found herself typing back a reply of how many ways he could go to hell, but once again, Angel's fingers covered the screen.

"Don't do that."

"My mother passed away six months ago. Now, he wants to talk to me?"

Angel shook her head, almost in a childlike manner, sending her long wavy locks into her face. With the tips of her fingers, she swept it back, animatedly speaking with her hands.

"You have to treat him like an ex-boyfriend. Let him believe you're over the pain he caused you by not saying anything. If you send him that, " she pointed to the phone, it's light dimmed from inactivity, "he'll know you're still mad and keep trying."

She had a point. Every single word carried an impact that made Kya feel a little ashamed for reacting to something that ultimately was not worth it. Words from a man who was not worth it. Every second of every day spent without her father, and now her mother caused her anger to increase. At times, it nearly boiled over, but somehow Kya remained calm by shoving those ill feelings to the back of her mind and the bottom of her heart.

Even through those dark days after her mother's death, she forced herself to keep it together. Although she believed he would have deserved to hear every mean and nasty thing she intended, Angel was right. If she was reading the emotions behind the message, his want and the need for conversation, was dire. It was the perfect time to turn her back on him like he had done her and her mother.

Forcing a smile, Kya tossed her phone back into her bag, obviously making Angel happy.

"That's my girl! Now, you owe me a dance!"

Once again, she took hold of Kya's hand, twisting and twirling in front of her to a tempo that was nowhere near as fast as she was moving. Her dress kept riding up, and as if it were no big deal, she just brushed it back down and kept going. Lips pursed Kya bit back the laughter that was slipping through her nose until a man trying to get by them stopped and watched in complete amusement.

Beneath the colorful lights, the exact shade of his hair was hard to determine, but his skin tone appeared to be close to Kya's. Short dark hair was coiled into natural curls, his eyes capturing each change of the colored lights.