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He nods. “That’s really cool.”
We’re interrupted by the voice over the speaker again, “The crew is almost here, should be about thirty or forty minutes still until we get you out.”
I groan, and then bend my knee and reach down to slip off my heel. I do it to the other before dropping them both to the floor and leaning back against the wall.
David reaches up to rub the back of his head and sighs. “Sorry.”
“For what?” I ask.
“That we’re stuck here.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, confused.
“I know, but I still feel bad,” he admits.
I shrug. “Whatever, at least I’m not with a stranger. Could be worse.” My words make him smile.
“That’s a good point,” he agrees.
I move to the back wall and slowly slide myself down until I’m sitting with my legs straight in front of me. I cross them and lean my head back. He does the same, making sure to keep several feet between us.
“What were you three going to have for dinner tonight?” David asks.
“Lasagna. Maddie’s mom’s famous recipe.” I sigh.
“Oh, nice,” he answers. “I was supposed to meet my family at my aunt's house for dinner. She’s making pernil with arroz con gandules.” Pork with rice and beans.
“Oh, eso suena increíble,” I groan in Spanish. “I haven’t had pernil in so long.” He laughs. “Do you get together with your family often?”
“Not as often as I’d like,” he admits. “We’re all busy since we have a few family run businesses and they take up a lot of time.”
I nod in understanding. “My parents aren’t too far, but it's still a pain to make that trip. Especially after either working a full day or a full week.”
“Yeah, I completely get that.”
We sit in silence for a few moments.
“So, what do you do when you’re not working or hanging out with Madeline and Elliot?” he asks. I don’t answer right away, unsure of where he could be going with this.
“Not much honestly,” I say truthfully.
“I’m guessing I will probably miss dinner tonight, but next time we have pernil, I’ll bring you some leftovers,” David says.
I turn to face him and meet his eyes—rich caramel in color—and I chuckle. “Thank you, I would love that.” I watch his dimples as he smiles.
“¿Cual es tu comida favorita?” What’s your favorite meal?
I take a deep breath and hum. “Hmm, mofongo. I could eat that every single day,” I respond in Spanish. “Or just rice and beans, honestly.”
“Nunca puedes equivocarte con eso.” You can never go wrong with that. He smiles.
“Well…” I laugh. “You can if Maddie is making it!”
His eyes widen as he lets out a laugh. “Oh no…”
“She tries her best.” I smile and laugh a little, noticing the tightening in my chest and the foreignness of these actions. “I’ve never seen someone try so hard to make rice, and fail so miserably every time.”
He laughs louder.
