“He’s at home, Mrs. Mill.” I edged closer to the counter, amused. “How are you? And how’s Mr. Mill?”
“I’m great, dear,” she said, making change for the woman in line. “Mr. Mill isn’t doing so well, though. It’s his back. But so it goes. How about you?”
“I’m good, just studying a lot,” I said and smiled.
“Getting ready to go to Yale?”
I laughed. “I hope so, Mrs. Mill.” I ordered a cappuccino and a slice of her classic carrot cake.
“Go sit down, dear, I’ll bring it over to you.”
I thanked her and turned around to look for a table. But the first thing I saw was a pair of green eyes. Thiago was sitting there with an empty cup of coffee and his laptop. I hadn’t seen him before because he was in the corner, partly concealed by a white column.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk over. As our eyes met, I couldn’t help but feel butterflies in my stomach. “Listen, Thiago…”
“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair across from him.
I hesitated but then sat down. I couldn’t help but take a mental snapshot of him: navy-blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves, disheveled hair, unshaven face, penetrating stare. “I wanted to say sorry about this morning.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He closed his laptop and leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands. I felt his eyes bathe me in warmth. “How are you? Today must have been a tough one for you.”
I tried to pull my brain back down to earth and formulate an answer. “Fine,” I said as Mrs. Mill brought me my coffee and cake, setting both down and saying, “Here you are, honey.” After a glance at the two of us, she asked, “Why are you two so glum?”
Thiago sat back in his chair. He probably hated that, a café owner sticking her nose in our business. He couldn’t stand small-town life, the gossip, the tedium of people in Carsville.
“Just chatting, Mrs. Mill,” I said, since Thiago seemed incapable of filling the silence.
Unruffled, she responded, “Well, that’s fine, but I better not hear this boy trying to break your heart, eh?”
“Mrs. Mill!” I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment.
After she walked off, Thiago said, “It’s times like this when I remember what I liked so much about DC.”
“Does that mean you won’t stick around here once the school year’s done?”
“Why do you ask? Do you want me to go?”
“I didn’t say that,” I clarified. “It’s just this town… You don’t really fit in here.”
“And you do?”
I shrugged in response and then said, after a moment’s thought, “I don’t think I’ll stay here forever.”
“Yeah, I heard you wanted to go to Yale.”
I nodded and took a sip of coffee.
“Why?” he asked, and he seemed genuinely curious.
“To study art.”
He nodded. “Let me get this straight, though. You want to study art, but you also hide your talent from absolutely everybody. So what are you going to do when you go to college and you have no choice but to exhibit your work?”
“Isn’t college supposed to change you?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t stay long enough to find out.”
I felt sorry for him. He must have had so many plans for his future. And now he was stuck here. The old guilt swelled inside me.It could have been so different if his sister hadn’t died, I thought. “Aren’t you thinking of going back?”
