He just isn’t deep.
“Sure,” I pause. “I don’t mind.”
She frowns.
Before Gisela can say something, my phone lights up with an incoming message. It’s Dario.Are you okay?
I type a reply immediately.Why do you think I am not?
Just a feeling.
I frown. Dario and I are not identical twins, which means we don’t share that peculiar bond that identical twins have, but somehow it is different to the bond with our other siblings.When others ask us what it is, we can only give the same answer over and over again. It’s just a feeling.
The party sucks,I reply.
Why?
I don’t answer him, mainly because I am too embarrassed to tell him what I’ve heard. Dario beats me to an answer anyway, as a second message pops up.
Forget that I asked. You don’t need to answer. I am coming to pick you up.
You don’t need to. I am okay. Besides, I came by car.
Tell Gisela to take your car. I am going to pick you up anyway.
I turn to Gisela. “Dario is coming,” I say. “You can take my car when you want to go home.”
“Oh, so you are leaving? Mind if I leave too?”
I blink. “Not at all. But I thought you were having fun.”
“I did, but it’s truly too many people, and I’ve already been hit on by four sweaty, drunk guys.” She pauses. “Do you mind if I go and pick up Charlie? She messaged me and said she is done with babysitting, but she doesn’t feel like partying. We could go and just have dinner somewhere?”
“Do you want to say goodbye to anyone before we leave?” I ask.
“Nah, no one will notice when a couple of people leave.”
“I agree. Take the car and pick up Charlie,” I say. “I’ll message you where Dario and I are heading to.”
“Alright, but I will wait until Dario is here. No way I am going to leave you alone here.”
It doesn’t take Dario half an hour to arrive and pick me up. As stated, Gisela leaves to get Charlie, while Dario and I drive off. Relief fills me when we finally leave the place.
“Thank you for picking me up. I wasn’t feeling the party anymore.”
Dario throws me a look before steering the car back to the main road. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I am not sure,” I admit.
“That’s okay,” he says softly. “Do you want to eat something?”
“Yeah, something unhealthy and cheesy.”
“Pizza?”
“Perfect.” Dario and I have one favorite pizza place, so I don’t even need to ask him where he’ll take us to. Instead, I swiftly write a message to Gisela to catch her up on where we are heading. Once I am done, I turn to him. “Is this really okay?”
“Is what okay?”
