CHAPTER 29 – ANTONIO
We walk. Or rather, Caspian walks as I struggle not to become a bigger disaster. I can’t believe he saw me like that—weak, shaking, afraid. He must think I’m pathetic. The humiliation catches up with me in a rush, and I have to stop.
I cross my arms like they could shield me from shame.
“I can walk. There’s no need for you to drive me home.”
“I know, but I would really like to.”
His voice is soft but certain, threaded with quiet authority that shouldn’t affect me like this. Gratitude swells in my chest, but it’s mixed with resentment. This isn’t fair. How could he ward off Ryan so easily while I just stood there frozen in terror?
Why can’t I be strong and brave like that?
I bite my tongue hard to stop me from crying. One rogue tear fights its way down my cheek anyway, and I wipe it away angrily.
A man pushes a coffee cart past us, his cheerful greeting rubbing in the truth: not everyone’s sky is falling.
Caspian stops him.
I stare in disbelief as he buys a bottle of water and a chocolate bar.
Is he really having a snack in the middle of my mental breakdown?
He twists the cork open and hands me the bottle. “Drink.”
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m gulping down water. He takes the bottle back and gives me the chocolate. He’s already unwrapped it.
“Eat this.”
I should argue, but I don’t have the energy. I munch the chocolate and spy on Caspian, expecting him to look at me with pity.
He doesn’t. He looks at me like I still matter.
I don’t deserve to matter to him.
I swallow down the chocolate. He hands me the water again. I drink.
“That’s my car,” he says, pointing toward a black Audi.
“I don’t have a car,” I tell him for some reason. “Sometimes I borrow my parents’ car, but only if I have to because I prefer to walk. I can sit down on a bench to read if I want.”
Shut up, Antonio.
“You can’t read and drive,” I add, because apparently I’m a traffic cop now.
“I agree.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I say next, almost repeating my earlier words. Caspian can go home, drink a beer, and congratulate himself for dodging the tiny bullet of doom.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“Why?”
I fidget with my bracelet. I can only wear it when I’m not working, because Mom worries the charms will end up in someone’s marinara sauce.
“I need to see you get home safe.”
The air is almost unbearably hot, but I’m shivering.
I peek at him again. I made that jibe at the trattoria about his Hilfiger style, but I actually like it. It suits him.
I make one final attempt to make him admit he’s ready to leave without me.
“It would be a detour for you.”
“Antonio.”
The way he says my name makes my stomach flip.
He opens the passenger door.
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s a detour. Please just get in the car.”
I stare at him. He stares back.
“Fine.” I climb into the damn car, because his happiness seems to depend on it.
I was getting so exhausted, it’s honestly a relief to sit down.
“Thank you.” He closes the door carefully and circles to the driver’s side.
“Are you cold?”
I nod. Apparently my shivering didn’t get past him. I wonder if anything does.
He reaches to the backseat and pulls out a dinosaur blanket. It’s ridiculous, but I put it over my knees.
“Why do you have a dinosaur blanket?”
“It’s Noah’s,” he explains.
I tense.
“Cole’s kid,” he adds.
Right. Cole Hudson. The singer of “One Last Kiss.” Caspian’s friend. Maria has told me all about it.
“Do you want to talk about it? Report him?” Caspian asks.
I shake my head. “I want to forget it.”
Anything else is useless. It’s one of the extracurricular lessons I learned in school.
“Okay,” he says. No pressure. No judgment. Just acceptance.
I look out the window as familiar trees and houses blur past. I wish the drive would take longer, but our house is close to the campus.
Only a few traffic lights left.
I know I’ll never forget what happened. The panic, the helplessness, the fear. Then the moment Caspian stepped in and turned danger into safety.
I fidget with the blanket.
“So you’re not friends with him?”
Caspian looks genuinely offended.
“No,” he says. “We have mutual acquaintances. That’s it.”
A shaky breath escapes before I can contain it. “Oh.”
I feel relief, but it’s painful and heavy—the kind that will crush me the second I stop holding it back.
I try to focus on something else, like the ridiculously fancy interior of his car. The center console has black panels and the symbols glow invitingly.
“Your car looks like a spaceship,” I mutter.
He laughs. It sounds like a melody.
“What happens if I touch this?” I ask, my fingers hovering above the symbols.
“Please don’t—,” Caspian starts, but it’s too late.
I already touched one. Soft piano notes fill the car, and then Elvis Presley is singing that he can’t help falling in love.
Caspian makes a strangled sound, and I watch how his ears turn red.
Panicking, I touch the panel again, but it only gets worse.
To Foreigner’s “I Want To Know What Love Is.”
Caspian lets it play even though he looks like he’s going to combust. I’m right there behind him, ready to burst into flames.
So. He listens to love songs. The kind that rot your teeth.
I try not to read too much into it. I fail . Of course I read too much into it. I read the footnotes and the bibliography and all the acknowledgements at the back.
“I like ‘90s music,” I say before the excruciating silence kills us both.
“Really?”
“Haddaway and Ace of Base are my favorites.”
“I’m intrigued.”
He pulls into my parents’ driveway and turns toward me. He studies my face, his hazel eyes searching for something.
I send a frantic request to the universe.
Ask me out. Ask for my number again. I’ll say yes.
“Take care, Antonio.”
What? Something in me shatters. Take care means goodbye.
He’s—oh. This was it. I was stupid to expect anything else. He asked for my number once already, and I told him I’d scribble it on his ego.
I guess this was just a random act of kindness for him.
I fumble for the door handle, praying that the tears wait until I’m inside.
“You too. Take care. And—thank you.”
He opens his mouth, but decides against whatever it was he was about to say.
I hurry inside to the safety of home.
I don’t want to take care.
I want Caspian.