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Nadia snorts and takes another drink.
“No, I’m not.” Mia looks between Nadia and I with a shocked expression. “I just… want to make sure you’re ok…”
Now it’s my turn to snort. “Sure.”
“Ok, whatever.” Mia waves a hand, scooting closer and jostling Nadia on the couch. “Fine, I’m nosy. So, spill.”
I chuckle, taking a drink of my scotch to keep her on edge. When it looks like she’s going to explode, I laugh. “Alright, he’s a fighter at the gym, I’ve known him for years, we hated each other and now we don’t.”
Mia’s face breaks out in a huge smile. “Ty Roscoe?”
I nod. “The one and only.”
Nadia stares at me. “Damn. Never would have thought that.”
I let out a breath of amusement. “Me either, kid.”
“Well,” Nadia smiles, “I just might have my own boy situation.”
“Oh?” Mia turns to her with a smile. “Photo?”
Nadia takes out her phone and shows us a picture of the two of them.
“Oh my god.” I grab her phone to take a closer look. “Damn, girl. He’s hot.” I pass it back to her. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
“What are you all doing huddled over here?” Mom’s voice cuts through our fun.
I look up as she approaches, her eyes dropping to Nadia’s drink. She sighs and shakes her head, gesturing out to the party. “Go, mingle. Be social.”
Her eyes then land on me, and down to my arms. She reaches out, pulling my sleeves down over my tattoos. “Luca, Anthony is here. Be sure to speak with him soon before he leaves.”
“Who?” I ask, pulling my other arm away from her to roll my sleeve down myself. She’s never outright said it, but she hates my tattoos. Or, more likely, the impression they give.
“Anthony Harris, the Dean of Browning.” She gives me an exasperated look, like she’s told me this a thousand times.
I sigh. “Mom, I’m not moving back here to work at Browning. Also, I’m a Phys. Ed. teacher, not a science teacher.”
“Well, you can always teach gym at Browning. And it’s good to keep your options open too, no sense in pigeonholing yourself.” She eyes my suit jacket laying over the couch behind me. “At least hear him out and make an informed decision. And wear your jacket.”
She is then thankfully pulled away by someone.
I sigh, watching her leave.
“I already made my decision,” I mutter and take another drink.
“Don’t listen to her,” Mia says. “You’re doing what’s right for you, that’s all that matters. You know Mom and Dad, they like to overstep.”
“You’ll be back in St. Louis soon. Just say hi to the guy so Mom thinks you spoke to him and then it’ll be done.” Nadia shrugs, and I smile at her. So innocent… so much to learn.
“Thanks,” I say, standing up and pulling my suit jacket on. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises I won’t just get hammered and circle the perimeter, dodging my fate and praying for a miracle.”
“So fucking dramatic,” Mia mutters with a smile.
But I do just that, and duck behind a group of people at the far end of the living room. I stay hidden, far away from the Browning guy, who Mom not so subtly gestured to as I hurried past.
But now that I’m hidden, I pull out my phone. There’s someone else I used to hate talking to, but he’s been on my mind all night.
What are you up to? Something super fun? Is it watercolor this time?
