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Yet somehow, it still fucking hurts. It had been nothing short of a miracle to get Daria to come to Leo’s daughter’s birthday party, and I’m fairly certain she only agreed to come because it had been a private event with zero kinds of publicity. At most, she might be in the background of a few pictures other guests may have posted on their social media. For Daria, that was fine. But being seen with me? A hard no. I just never expected it to feel this shitty.
A few beats of tense silence pass, and I wonder if Daria senses it and tries to diffuse it by asking, “Where are you off to so early on game day? Don’t you go in a little later?”
I press my tongue to the inside of my cheek. “I’m picking up my dad from the airport.”
I feel Daria’s gaze on me, can see the surprise on her face from the corner of my eye. “I didn’t know your dad was visiting.”
Lifting my chin, my tone is a neutral mutter as I respond, “No, why would you?”
If possible, the tension in the small, enclosed space intensifies a little, like Daria is finally picking up on it. “Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, and I can just picture the frown on her face without even looking at her.
“Nothing,” I breathe out, eyes shutting for a moment because now is not the time that I want to get into this conversation with Daria—if ever. Avoiding talking to her about it is not exactly the mature decision, but doing it before ten in the morning isn’t something I’m in the mood for. And it definitely requires more space than a fucking elevator.
We’re almost to the parking garage as Daria asks, “You sure? Because you don’t look like it’s nothing.”
Her own tone is pointed and sharp, and I press my teeth together. I lower my gaze and catch Elaine’s gaze, who is looking between Daria and me with childlike curiosity, like she’s trying to figure out our conversation. The sight of her makes my chest tighten, and as soon as the elevator doors swing open, I bring out a smile for Elaine and tell her, “See you later, kiddo,” before stepping out of the elevator.
As I walk, I can hear Daria scoffing behind me, but I’m slightly relieved when she doesn’t push the matter. When I get to my car, I glance over my shoulder to see her at her own parking space a few aisles over, buckling Elaine in, and I exhale sharply through my nose as I get into my car. She can’t see me through the tinted windows, and my jaw tightens once more as I breathe out a curse.
My head is fucking spinning as I start the car, jaw working as I pull out of the garage and make my way towards O’Hare. My grip on the steering wheel is tight, white knuckling it as my elbow rests on the door, fist resting against my temple as I drive. Despite the chill in the elevator, my skin feels heated, tongue pressing to the roof of my mouth. I know I’m only making things more difficult for myself by keeping this shit in, by not telling Daria what’s on my mind—but that’s hard in of itself, because half of the time,Idon’t even know what’s on my mind.
The bitterness that has been eating me up from the inside—it’s not platonic. It has nothing to do with any sort of platonic feelings I have for Daria, and quite possibly has everything to do with something much more. I’m not that oblivious to myself where I can’t find the truth in that. The problems lie in the reality that Daria and I had agreed, from the beginning, this would only be casual. I’m crossing a line with these feelings, and I can’t be upset with Daria for not feeling the same way. Yet, now I can’t bring myself to be okay with the part of the deal where we agreed to keep our distance from one another beyond the walls of our apartments. At the moment, it just seems like too much, and the worst part is, I have no one to blame for it but myself.
My feelings are what’s getting in the way. My sudden change from the status quo is fucking things up for me and for us. I wouldn’t be so upset if I didn’t have feelings for her. I want more from Daria, from us, and the bitterness bleeds from the possible, potential reality that Daria isn’t on the same page as me. Her first and foremost priority is Elaine, as she should be, and I feel like a selfish piece of shit for wanting more from Daria than she is willing to offer. In the months we have been hooking up, I have not only spent time with her but with her kid as well. I adore Elaine. In the comfort of Daria’s apartment, I have fun with them, a kind of contentment washing over me that I can’t find anywhere else.
And now I’m risking losing even that with the way I can’t seem to figure out how to talk about all of this with Daria. The idea of losing her, even as a friend, is torturous. But aren’t I already risking that with the way I’m giving her the cold shoulder?
Fuck me. Things would stay simple and easy if I didn’t let feelings tangle with physical attraction.
When I arrive at the airport, I park the car in the arrivals lot and head inside, sunglasses on and a beanie covering my head. But as I wait at the arrivals area, despite my efforts, I’m recognized by a few fans. Teenage boys and adults, some of whom approach me nervously and others excitedly, all asking for a picture, an autograph, or both.
Taking a breath and squaring my shoulders, I push aside thoughts of Daria and bring out a smile while taking off my sunglasses, chatting with the small group of people who surround me as I sign phone cases, pieces of paper, and take selfies. It serves as a good distraction from thinking about Daria, and passes the time as I wait for my dad to arrive.
Then I see him, walking through the doors with a suitcase, and I take one more picture with a fan before saying to the group, “It was really great meeting you guys, but my old man just got here so I gotta go.”
They are all good-natured and friendly about it, exclaiming their goodbyes as I walk off to where my dad is approaching me with a knowing grin on his face. Then he flashes me a confused expression when we near each other and asks me, “You famous or somethin’?”
He’s got a bit of a Texan drawl after living there for years, and I snort out a laugh as I pull him in for a hug. “Or something,” I muse in response, clapping his back as he does the same to me. “Good to see you, Pops.”
“You too, son,” Dad says as we pull away, and he grins at me. I’m only an inch or so taller than him as he looks at me with eyes the same color as I my own. “You look good.”
“So, do you,” I reply as I take his suitcase from him, and we make our way out of the airport. Once I have his suitcase loaded up in the trunk and we are both in the car, I begin the drive back home. “How’s everything going in Texas?” I ask. He has a dental practice he opened up there, and from what I know, it has been going very well.
“Really good,” Dad says with a grateful smile. “Not as cold there as it is here,” he says, huffing out a breath and rubbing his hands together.
I chuckle, turning up the heat. I’ve already got his seat warmer on the highest setting. “You’ll get used to it in a few days.”
Dad snorts. “I’ll get used to it and then it’ll be time for me to leave.” I shake my head in amusement, grinning. “What about you, kid? How’s everything?”
Without really meaning for it to, I feel my smile falter a bit, suddenly thinking of earlier in the elevator with Daria. That woman never seems to escape my thoughts, and I have no idea what to do about it. My grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly, and I try to keep my tone casual as I answer, “Everything’s good.”
I can feel Dad’s gaze on me as he gives a thoughtful hum. The man could always see right through me. “You don’t have to talk about it now, but wewilltalk about it.”
I purse my lips, fighting the urge to sigh deeply. “There’s nothing to talk about, Dad.”
He scoffs. “Don’t give me none of that. Something is obviously on your mind. Like I said, we’ll talk about it later.”
If he is already like this barely twenty minutes since he arrived, I have a feeling I won’t be escaping the conversation any time soon.
