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Got it He will call you himself
Mom:
Ava just dropped Meg off. Asked me to say hi to you
The barista sets my hot chocolate on the counter, and I step in to pick it up. Before I can make contact, a large hand darts in front of me and snatches it. Eyebrows knitted together, I turn around, ready to call the person out, and find myself face-to-face with Diego, the Hawks’ goalie.
“Hi, Isla.” He smiles, his deep brown eyes glimmering. “I saw you through the window and thought I would come in and say hi.”
“Hi.” I hold out my hand. “Give me my drink, please.”
“Are you heading back to the dorms?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Can I keep you company? Or maybe convince you to stay here and have a coffee with me?”
Uncertainty rises inside me. My natural reaction is to wonder what his motive is. “Why?”
“So we can get to know each other.” He pushes my drink into my hand. “I’ve been curious about you. I’d love to know more.” A red hue creeps over his cheeks; in response, mine heat too. “No pressure, obviously. Just a friendly chat.”
He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his hair dark and curly, his skin a warm brown. Objectively, he’s handsome, but all I can think about is how different he is from the boy who lives in my dreams and consumes my every waking thought. Is hanging out with Diego really a good idea? I don’t want to lead him on or give him false hope. Uncertainty tightens in my chest. This feels…wrong.
He gently pokes me in my forehead, an open smile playing on his lips. I flinch before I can stop myself. He notices and immediately takes a step back, giving me more space.
“It’s just a drink, I promise.”
The barista clears his throat, and I turn to look at him. “Sorry, does this guy make you uncomfortable?”
I blink, my cheeks burning. And now, I’m making a scene. Exactly what I don’t need.
Diego shifts awkwardly, the tips of his ears redden. “No, no, we’re just talking.” He ducks his head. “Or do I make you uncomfortable?”
I know this is stupid, but I feel bad for putting him in this position. This isn’t the first time we’ve talked, and while he’s flirty, he never pushes it. He kind of leaves the ball in my court, letting me decide how I want to engage with him.
“Okay.” I check the time on my watch. “But I only have thirty minutes before I need to head home and get to bed.”
“You and your routine.” He shakes his head and then gestures at a table in front of the window. “Why don’t you sit? I’ll order coffee and be right there.”
While he strides to the counter, I sit at the table and unlock my phone, rereading Mom’s last text.
Michael’s parents have always been amazing to me. Their house felt like home, almost as comforting as my own. For years, I went there for movie nights, lunches that turned into dinners, and sleepovers no one ever questioned. I was never just his friend there. I was family. Until our friendship imploded, and I left for Boston.
Uncle Colton was surprised when he showed up at the hospital with Meg and found me sitting by Michael’s bed. I could see it in his eyes. But he said nothing other than “thank you.” And when Aunt Ava arrived, she didn’t ask why I was there either. She hugged me extra tight and thanked me for being with her son.
They let me stay. They let me talk to him after he woke up.
I wasn’t sure I should, but when I saw him hit like that, laying on the ground afterward, something inside me shattered. Every reason I’d come up with to stay away seemed insignificant. The idea of never seeing him again was worse than any anger I’d been holding on to.
In that cleaning closet, he asked me if I still cared. He asked me again in his room. But I didn’t know how to answer. After the crash, admitting out loud that I still care came more easily than I expected.
My feelings for him never disappeared. They just…went quiet. Like they’d fallen into some kind of hibernation. And now, they’re back, louder than ever, stirred awake by stolen kisses and the surfacing of old truths.
I like him. Too much, I think.
But liking him has never been simple. I don’t know if it’s wise to revisit our past. Even with some cards on the table after our talk at the rink, there are a lot of other things we have yet to discuss. And maybe that’s the part that scares me most.
“So.” Diego puts a stop to my thoughts as he plops down in the chair across from me. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you? Were you at the game on Saturday?”
