19. Diego
DIEGO
Graduate school: the perfect option for people who want to spend their evenings analyzing how statistics were used to measure risk and control for variables in epidemiological studies.
I’d chosen to study public health because I wanted to actually help people. To create programs that taught people how to take care of themselves. To get the right information to the populations that needed it the most.
Not to spend hours staring at statistics until my eyeballs were about to go on strike.
I took my glasses off and blinked, trying to focus on something other than the laptop on my desk.
Evan and Raymond were out at the dining room table studying. Sometimes I worked out there. It was motivating to see my roommates doing their coursework too, but tonight I needed solitude to really focus. And tomorrow night I wouldn’t get any—I’d agreed to babysit for a buddy.
Paul and I had become good friends during my sophomore year, when he was a senior.
We’d stayed in touch after he finished school, and got together at least once a week, at least until his life got so busy.
He was married now, and he and his wife had an eighteen-month-old child, my godson. That thought made me pause.
To be someone's godfather, that meant something. I'd had very limited contact with my birth father, and nothing in the last fifteen years. As for my mother, she took off practically after giving birth. She'd been on my mind a lot lately.
Then again, so had Mia. And the latter was much more fun to spend time thinking about.
I closed my laptop and rubbed my hands over my eyes. These research papers gave me a headache. Mia didn't.
I'd gone into the scavenger hunt thinking I was doing Aaron a favor. I hadn't expected to have fun. And I hadn't expected to see her have fun, especially when partnered with me, but she had.
God, the way she looked after she lost that ridiculous tutu.
I couldn’t get the image of those skintight pants, and that little top out of my mind.
I should go thank that tutu-eating tree.
The way she ran, the way she moved, it was so graceful, not like an actual ballerina, but like a fit young woman who was comfortable with her body.
And her smile… I hadn’t actually seen it before, at least not directed at me. But it had been pretty constant by the end of the scavenger hunt.
These were thoughts I’d tried to resist—and failed. Especially after holding her in my arms during the dance lesson. If Aaron hadn't been there waiting, I would have danced with her all night.
After weeks, it seemed like she was finally starting to trust me.
To maybe even enjoy spending time with me.
She’d been so attentive when she was in my arms. The way she was so alert for whichever way I leaned, whichever way I stepped.
It was a pleasure to lead when your partner was that responsive.
Shit. Maybe analyzing statistics was better than entertaining these thoughts. Except… I wasn’t as resistant to them as I had been before. Yes, Mia was younger than me, but only by three years.
She was twenty, and like most former foster children, had had to grow up far too soon. She wasn't a kid who didn't know her own mind. Mia was a woman, and I couldn't stop thinking about her.
And god help me, I didn’t want to.
I’d considered asking her out, but something stopped me.
I was the residential advisor, and I cared about everyone who lived here.
This was a place where Mia should feel welcome and safe.
But… it honestly had felt like she’d enjoyed my company during the scavenger hunt, or at least by the second half of it.
And dancing with her in my arms… that wasn’t something I could just forget.
So maybe I'd see what she was doing tomorrow night. Maybe she could come with me to Paul's house. It would probably take two of us to wrangle a high-spirited toddler into his crib. After that, we could study. And I could see if her newfound comfort level with me would continue.
Somehow, going on the scavenger hunt together had changed things. She certainly hadn't seemed all that nervous when I held her in my arms and waltzed her around the room.
If the babysitting went well, then maybe I'd ask her out on a real date. We still had that gift certificate to the Italian place. That would be the perfect excuse.
Forzano’s was a nice place. I’d only been there once.
I cast my mind back, trying to recall what I’d ordered, but a different memory threatened to break through.
It had happened a couple of times recently.
I didn’t know what it was from, but it was always the same.
A feeling of happiness. Of surrendering all responsibilities and only doing what I wanted to do.
It was always accompanied by a sweet scent.
Something that I was certain I’d recently encountered.
It made no sense. My brain was probably fried from all of the statistical analysis.
Someone knocked on my door. “Come in.”
My jaw nearly dropped when the door opened, and Cody stepped into my room. Had he ever been in here? I was pretty sure he hadn’t in the fourteen months we’d shared this house.
“What's up?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Can we… talk?”
Normally, getting Cody to talk was an exercise in frustration. I couldn’t quite imagine what had made him seek out a conversation with me. “Sure. You want to go out in the dining room?”
“No.”
He closed the door behind him.
“Is everything okay? Are you sick?”
He shook his head. “No, not sick. And everything's not okay.”
“What's up?”
I pulled out the desk chair for him and then I sat on the edge of my bed. He sat down and slouched, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. But even though he was leaning back in the chair, he looked tense.
“Take your time, man. You can tell me anything.”
“I messed up,” he finally said.
“Can you tell me about it?”
“I hurt Mia.”
That was the last thing I expected him to say. And I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘hurt.’ I sat up straighter, leaning in. Trying not to look as alarmed as I felt. “She’s hurt? Is she okay? Where is she?”
“Not like that.”
He held up a hand when I started to jump up, and I waited, somewhat impatiently, for him to find the words. “I said something. The wrong thing. And it hurt her.” He paused, as if trying to figure out whether he had to provide any other relevant info. “The other night.”
For Cody, that counted as a big speech. I tried to figure out what night he was talking about, and then I remembered they’d gone to watch that television show, that extra credit thing for their chemistry class.
Though I had three years' experience helping my roommates through various concerns, I didn’t quite know what approach to take with Cody. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Okay. Then why was he here? But I couldn't ask it like that. “Have you... I assume this happened at the movie night, right?”
He nodded.
“Have you talked to her since then?”
“No.”
Silence grew, but I waited again. With Cody, you had to give him time to phrase his thoughts.
“Talking was the problem in the first place.”
I couldn't argue with that. For some reason, words just never came easily to him, but holy crap, he could express himself through music like no one else I'd ever known.
“I... I didn't mean to say… what I said.”
“Do you think she knows that?” I asked carefully.
“No.”
“Can you tell her that?”
“No.”
He wasn't leaving me with a lot of options as to what to advise. He was gazing off to my right. Not focused on anything, but again I got the sense this was a time to wait him out.
Finally, he looked directly at me. “I like her.”
“As a friend or roommate, or...”
“I like her,” Cody repeated, and that gave me my answer.
“Well, going with her to the movie night was a good start. I'm sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”
“How do I fix it?”
“I wish I had a magic solution for you, but you’ve got to talk to her. Unless you, you know, write her an opera explaining how you feel. That was a joke, by the way,” I clarified.
“What do I say to her?”
“First, apologize for whatever you said that hurt her, and then...”
God, I didn't know how to advise him. I hadn’t even had a girlfriend in over a year. Probably I wasn’t the best guy for this conversation.
Especially with someone who struggled with communication like Cody did. But I still wanted to help him if I could.
There was no question now of asking Mia to come babysit with me. Nor on a date. No way was I going to stand in Cody’s way if he was strong enough to pull it together. As far as I knew, that was the first time he'd been interested in a woman since he’d moved in here.
I wouldn’t stand in the way of that.
“Can you invite her to do something else?” I said at last. “Do you have any concerts or music events coming up?”
He shrugged. “She likes hearing me play piano.”
Wow. It was a pretty big step that he even let her.
“Well, maybe you could do that again.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know. This is a start, man. You apologize. You see if she’ll do something with you again and you take it from there. Don’t think too far ahead. I’d say go with the flow, but…”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Not my strong suit.”
Exactly. But I didn’t say that. “If you get stuck, my door is always open.”
I glanced over it, noting that it was closed.
But I meant what I said. Cody’d had such a rough life.
“Just try. Just talk to her. She’s a good listener.
” I didn’t actually know if that was true, but it seemed like she would be.
“Maybe think about what you’re going to say ahead of time and just try. That’s all you can do.”
“All right.”
He got to his feet and pulled the door open. “Thanks.”
Then he was gone. I leaned back on the bed, my head bouncing on the mattress.