He tries to hide his grin and fails miserably. Yesterday evening a woman came into the store with the sole purpose of leaving with Diego’s number. I was mildly amused, watching the scene unravel. Though he was being charming throughout, he kindly rejected her, and she left looking like she was on the verge of tears. I called him a heartbreaker, and he asked if I wanted to be next in line. I’d threatened to lock him inside the shop.
Dropping a paper bag in my lap and sliding a cup holder onto the desk, he gives me a nonchalant look. “I was getting you your daily dose of milk and your dad an Americano.”
I hate it when he’s sweet like that! I have to remind myself that he’s just a friend. That he’s leaving. That my teenage crush has died. But every time he buys me food, my idiot heart beats a little bit faster.
But then I also remember that I barely know him. We may be spending time together and we may bicker a lot, but he doesn’t truly open up. I think he’s just someone who mostly keeps to himself, but I hope that, one day, he trusts me enough to share what weighs him down so much.
“Ah, you’re a good man, son.” Dad reaches out to grab his coffee and lifts it like he’s sayingcheers.“Did you get yourself something too?”
Diego nods as I open the bag he threw at me. An almond croissant.Ugh.
He winks at me, but my dad is too busy enjoying his beverage to notice. Dad stands to change sides on the vinyl, then sits on the edge of the desk, facing us. Diego holds in a chuckle at the sight of my father’s thick socks with snowmen on them.
Dad tucks his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “So, what’s the next post you’re planning?”
“I’ve scheduled a picture of Diego wearing a fleece jumper from Jordan’s line,” I answer. “I thought it would be fun to collaborate with Jordy and promote his brand too. The post goes out this evening.”
Dad nods. “I like that. I also wanted to say that I’m happy to have you two on my team. Alara, I know you’re currently feeling a little lost, but I hope that you can see how much your hard work is paying off. The customers only have positive things to say about you, and I’m proud of you. I truly am.”
What the hell? Is he trying to make me cry on a Wednesday morning? I blink repeatedly to make the burning feeling go away, and I nod while toying with the hem of my sleeves. I don’t know how to accept compliments. I don’t know how to be proud of myself, because I constantly think that I’m not doing enough. I still have no idea what to do with my future – how can my dad be proud of me for that?
“Diego,” he continues softly. From the corner of my eye, I see Diego shifting his attention from me to my dad. “You’re a driven young man. I know your situation isn’t fun and that it’s easy to lose motivation because of the harshness of your punishment. But you’re not alone, alright? We’re all here to help you, so don’t be afraid to talk to one of us when days are tougher. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”
Diego nods, his throat working up and down. “Yes, sir,” he croaks out. I think this is the first time I’ve heard this emotion in his voice. I’ve heard him angry, annoyed, teasing, and amused, but not emotional.
To keep myself from standing up and wrapping my arms around him, I open my pastry bag and take a bite of the croissant. Just to remind myself not to cross any boundaries.
“One last thing,” Dad adds. If he notices the way Diego’sshoulders have slumped and how I’m stuffing my face because I’m afraid that I’ll cry if I speak, he doesn’t let on. “The town’s Christmas fair officially begins on Sunday. Diego, do you remember the amateur snowboard competition you used to take part in? It takes place next Friday.”
As Diego nods, his right leg starts bouncing. I’ve noticed he becomes fidgety at the mention of snowboarding, and I can’t blame him. I know he’s dying to ride again – I see him linger in the back of the store to look at the boards or stare longingly at the snowboarders we walk past at the resort. I don’t have the guts to ask him about his physiotherapy sessions and how he’s physically feeling, because I don’t want to upset him. I don’t like it when he shuts himself off, and my goal here is to bring him back to life, not to push him away.
“The town committee would love to have you as a member of the jury,” Dad says with a grin.
“Really?” I love the way his features brighten. How unadulterated excitement laces his hoarse voice.
“Sure thing. You’ll be judging the participants with me and three other members of the committee. You know the event’s purpose is to have fun, but it would mean a lot if you said yes.”
“I’d love to. Thank you, Joe.”
Dad waves an idle hand in the air. “It’s nothing.”
Something forceful squeezes at my chest at the thought of Diego getting slightly emotional over my dad’s proposal. Snowboarding is obviously his entire world, and the fact that the amateur competition is the closest thing he can get to riding makes me want to manifest a speedy recovery for him.
“Alright.” Dad pushes himself off the desk, rounds it, and plops back in his chair. “You two can take the rest of the day off.”
Diego and I exchange a baffled glance. “Really, Dad?”
“All the shifts are covered for the day – don’t worry. It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow, so it’ll be a bit slow like every year.”
Diego shrugs. “Well, if you insist. Thank you, Joe.”
Dad watches Diego walk out with a smile on his face. The next moment, I’m standing beside his chair and my arms are wrapped around his shoulders, my fingers tightly clutching the bag with my half-eaten croissant in it. “Thanks, Dad.”
Pulling my head down to plant a kiss on top of it, Dad nods. “Get some rest, will ya?”
I don’t argue, because I’m feeling slightly tired today. Between shifts at Rock Snow, managing the social accounts and replying to emails, and giving skiing lessons too, I’ve barely taken the time to look after myself.
Passing in front of the locker room, I spot Diego pocketing his cell phone. Despite the fatigue fogging my senses, the tug I feel toward him is innate and hard to fight. He looks pensive, and my caring side thinks he needs a friend instead of being left alone.
