“Don’t I know it, Dr. Rossi.”
Diego smirks behind his coffee mug.
I kick him under the table.
He startles, almost spilling his coffee, and bangs his knee on the table. Papà chuckles softly. I cross my arms, biting the inside of my cheek. I should feel relieved.
His independence means I can focus on my work and my classes. But there’s an emptiness in that thought I didn’t expect. The silence stretches until Diego nudges my ankle with his boot under the table.
“You good?” he mouths too low for Papà to hear.
I nod, but it’s a lie.
And Diego knows it.
“Well, let me drive you to the train station. It’s the least I can do for having the best lab partner in the class,” Diego offers with a sincere expression directed at me.
His tone is meant to shift our dynamic and lighten the mood, which works for my father but not necessarily for me. Papà’s face brightens at the offer. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he nods in approval. He dabs his mouth with his napkin and folds it neatly beside his plate as if the decision has already been made.
“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely. I’m already packed. I need to grab a few things, and we can be off.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Diego says, eyes locked on mine. “Wouldn’t want my professor to think I don’t pull my weight.”
“You two seem to be getting along well,” Papà observes with a hint of quiet curiosity.
My eyes snap to him, heat rising in my cheeks. Diego’s smirk deepens just enough to make my stomach twist.
“No, we’re not. Diego’s just getting caught up since he missed class,” I defend too quickly, the words sharper than I intend. “Like lab partners would.”
Papà hums, unconvinced, taking a slow sip of his coffee. Diego stretches his arm along the back of the booth. His body relaxes in a way that annoys me.
“Lab partners,” Diego echoes, his tone flat, but his eyes glint. “Exactly.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
I’m mortified my father knows what’s happening between us. My rushed excuses and parting glances must have given me away. Who else will catch on if he sees it, especially after this weekend? Especially how we catch each other’s gaze and hold it longer than usual. I have to do a better job of hiding it if we continue seeing each other.
“I’ll get the check,” I blurt out, scooting out of the booth with such intention that I leave Diego calling after me, waving his credit card in the air.
I bolt to the register, unwilling to have him pay, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Behind me, I hear Papà murmur something low, and Diego chuckles in response.
I don’t want to know what they’re saying. And I hate that their camaraderie is coming to an end.
It’s all for the best, right?
21
DIEGO
Her mood crashes when her dad disappears beyond the boarding doors. Their hug lingers. She holds on tight longer than she probably means to. I stand there, silent, the handle of his bag heavy in my hand, until the steward takes it from me.
Now, she sits beside me in the truck, staring out the window, her silence thick between us. Her fingers remain in her lap, and there is no fidgeting or sharp retorts. Nothing.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, glancing at her, my stomach twisting.
“You okay?”
No answer.
