Away we go

13- Italy

I don't need that long. Just a day of good crying and then I will compose myself. The mention of his name makes my spine stiffen and when I see his number blink on phone, my heart aches. But I'm still angry; enough to ignore all of it.

Call me petty but I am avoiding Carlos like plague right now. But in my defense he was petty too. Now we are both being petty, together.

Stephen tilts my chin up until I look at him. "Spill."

I use the pen in my hand to poke his chest. "We had a fight."

"That I heard. Rohan too." He laughs uncomfortably. He stares at me for a minute then shrugs and says, "You know these sorts of arguments are common between couples."

I sigh with my entire body and lean against the office chair. "I expected more from him Stephen. Even if you go by a random dude's logic, why would I leave him? Isn't he the celebrity?"

"He is, and probably that's reason enough for him to get insecure. Afterall, you both are in this long distance thing. It rarely works Nina. So just give all of it some time. Give him some time."

"Give it time...yeah that seems like a solid solution but I feel like complaining right now."

"Develop your character, Nina. Also complaining gives you wrinkles."

"Between you and me, if I have ro go through anymore character development, my character is gonna develop into a villain."

"I don't know what to say. Anyway did you watch the quali?"

"No there's still time."

Stephen props the tablet and tuned into the channel. Its glimpses of pre race rituals of the drivers until the camera zooms in on Carlos who is in his red shirt and jeans looking all handsome. I sit up straight when I see a bunch of flowers in his hand. Stephen too tenses, next to me.

My gaze follows Carlos like the camera recording him.

Carlos squats at a corner spot and places the bunch of flowers there. He then closes his eyes for a few minutes.

Stephen and I look at each other in confusion till we hear the reporter recording the event.

It is the fiurth year in row and Carlos Montes pays tribute to his best friend whom he lost during a race at this very spot. Italy remains a hard battle for Montes as he announces that he is again racing for his long gone friend.

"I think maybe that's why he was acting all weird," Stephen says. There's a drop of shame in his voice.

I lift my hand and use my thumb to smooth out his serious expression. "Maybe Steph, still it isn't okay for him to judge me and people I hang out with."

Stephen nods and looks around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

I watch the race prep. The pit crowd is pulling off tire warmers now and yelling Vamos at each other in zest. The camera focuses on Carlos again, sitting in the car.

He flashes a grin and my heart goes impossibly fast.

This is ridiculous.

I miss the question that the reporter ask him because of the drumming in my own ears but I catch his eyes darkening for just an instant.

I hope I'm not blushing like stupids, looking at a tablet.

"I'm spanish. I'm going to go Latino mode."

Dear God.

Heat pools somewhere low in my belly and I clench my thighs.

My mind is fighting him, my heart is hurt and my body does not give a single shit.
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