“Exactly.” She quickens her pace.
“Do you even know what direction we’re going?”
“Just following my gut,” she calls back. Her gut, in question, is right in the village. More specifically, next to Trader Joe’s. Grabbing a snack does sound appealing but I need to pause for a bit.
We make our way over to a small cluster of chairs. Since it’s still early, the village is eerily quiet for a Sunday morning. Most of the tables are empty and it’s just me and Diana. There are many seats at the table we choose but the moment we both sit down, it’s right next to each other.
I try to hide the stupid grin about to stretch my face. “Does it hurt still?” I ask, motioning to her bare wrist.
She shakes her head. “Only a little, but not enough. I don’t need it right now.”
“Has it always been like this?” I mentally curse myself for asking a dumb question.No, Ryder. Who the fuck could have been born with an injury like that?
“No,” she answers, not visibly noticing the stupidity of my question. “I broke my wrist in a car accident a few years back. Couldn’t afford treatment at the time so it never healed properly.”
My eyes widen. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Diana waves a hand to dismiss it. “Nah, you deserve to know some of the details since you helped. Seven years and this is the least amount of pain I’ve felt on my hand for an extended time so thanks.” She sends me a small smile. “Again.”
I’m about to respond before I remember something else she had told me. Holy fuck, I hope that what I’m thinking is wrong. “Seven years?”
She nods, getting up from her chair. “I can see the gears in your brain turning, Carson.”
“You know what I was going to ask?”
“Yeah.” She holds out her left hand and I grab it, standing myself up. Whether that yes is directed to the unasked question looming in the air or not, I’m not sure. “Same scenario. I nearly died that night but my mom did, because a drunk driver didn’t know his right from his left on a Friday night.”
Just like that, the last puzzle piece of Diana Blanco fit into place. To me, it explains a lot about her. Why she doesn’t like rollercoasters or why she was about to pass out from sitting in Jake’s car. It wasn’t motion sickness—and I know better than anyone else what that looks like—it was a panic attack.
“What are you thinking?” She asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. And a good thing she did because I don’t want to imagine Diana in that situation again.
I think that I might get sick if I ever think about it again.
I shake my head. “Nothing you’d find interesting, I assure you.”
“You can still talk about it,” she insists. “I won’t judge you.”
“Not right now.” I glance over at the streets, the area much busier than it had been when we first arrived. “Race you back home?”
The twinkle in her eyes appears at the mention of a challenge. “What does the winner get?”
“I’ll decide when we get there,” I say.
She scoffs. “What makes you think you’re going to win?”
“Easy.” I lean closer to her. Our foreheads could be touching but I manage to restrain myself. Her cheeks turn red and I can sense her heavy breathing and we haven’t even started running. Just being this close has my heart beating in my ears. She must be feeling this too, right?
I could close the distance right here and now. It’s tempting but I manage to resist. “Because I don’t lose.” I dash off in the direction of home with Diana shouting not far behind.
“What the fuck? That wasn’t fair, man!”
I start to laugh as I pass the restaurants and parking lots. I finally reach the crosswalk before Diana catches up and she doesn’t even seem out of breath. I know I am and it has nothing to do with running.
“That was cheating!” She complains right beside me.
“I didn’t say start.”
“Well, distracting me like that still counts,” she states. “Besides, actually kissing me would have been much more effective.”
