He stops walking. His expression doesn't change, but something in his posture shifts—not quite tense, but alert. Wary.
Kimberly and her group close the distance. They're all beautiful in that effortless way that suggests personal trainers and expensive skincare and lives without coffee stains or bald tires. Lives without fathers in prison. Lives without counting steps to stay calm.
"Fancy meeting you here!" Kimberly says, and her smile is so bright it almost hurts to look at. She looks at me then, and I almost step back. She’s still smiling, but why does it feel like she wants to stab me instead?
“Wasn’t it just last night when you said that you didn’t know him?”
“I—”
“I told her to keep my identity a secret.”
Santino’s unexpected answer has me biting my lip hard. I don’t want him to lie for my sake, but I feel like it’s only going to make things worse if I make a big deal out of it.
“HOW NICE THAT YOU TRUSTher to do so.” Kimberly’s smile has turned brittle now. “Is that why you’re spending time with her then? Rewarding her silence by slumming it?”
It takes a few extra moments before I realize that the other girl really said those words out loud, and I can feel my face goes white as the insult behind it starts sinking in.
Kimberly is still smiling while her friends look uncomfortable, their gazes darting between the other girl and...him.
Santino.
His face has turned cold and hard, and I find myself gulping even though I know it’s not me he’s angry at.
"Scusa.” His voice is so dangerously soft. "What did you say?"
"Oh, I just meant—" Kimberly's smile doesn't waver, but something in her eyes flickers. Uncertainty. "I mean, you usually go for—you know. Your type. I just wouldn't have guessed—"
"My type." His accent is thicker now. "Tell me, what is my type?"
"Santino, I didn't mean—"
"No. Please. Explain to me what you meant when you said I was, how did you put it,slumming it?"
Kimberly's smile is starting to crack around the edges. "I was just joking—"
"It did not sound like a joke."
The silence is excruciating.
All of Kimberly’s friends are suddenly busy doing all sorts of things and staring at different directions—anywhere but him—while Kimberly looks between us like she's trying to figure out how to fix this, how to laugh it off, how to make it into nothing.
My own thoughts are a mess, but the moment I see his fists clench, and I realize he’s about to say something more vicious—
“We should go,” I blurt out.
Santino stiffens.
I manage a smile. “It’s about to get dark.”
I wish I could say something else, but my eyes start stinging all of a sudden, and so I quickly turn away.
The last thing I want is for them to see me crying.
I walk as fast as I can.
I hear footsteps behind me, but he doesn't try to catch up, and it makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
How...perfect.
