Austin shook his head and hid his grin with his hand.
Facing me once again, Mrs. Carillo asked, “You know… my Austin… from school?”
I stilled and, casting a glimpse to Austin, saw him exaggerate a nod, telling me to say yes. He didn’t want the Heighters mentioned; that was clear to see.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m on the Crimson cheer squad. I cheer every home and away game for the Tide.”
Mrs. Carillo smiled, but only the right side of her face lifted. She was still one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, even with that slight loss of muscle control. “Ah, the football. I am… so very… proud. Austin… so talented…”
Wincing, Mrs. Carillo tried to move her position on the bed, and Austin jumped to help his mother turn slightly onto her side.
“Grazie… mio caro,” she said through gritted teeth and tilted her head to look at me. “Scusami, Lexi… I am tired… this illness… not so good…”
“Sleep, Mamma,” Austin said and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders. “I’ll come back soon.”
“Okay… You take… Lexi home now. It is… late… Protect her.”
“Oh no, thanks, but I’ll be fine,” I said from behind. “I’ve got my car—”
Mrs. Carillo held up her shaking hand in my direction, and I immediately stopped talking. “Austin will… see you… home safe. He’ll do right… by you… Okay, mio caro?” she then said to Austin.
Casting a long, indecisive look at me, Austin then fixed a smile at his momma. “Erm… certo, Mamma. I’ll see her home safe. Lo guiro.”
“Such a… good boy.” Mrs. Carillo’s eyes closed and she whispered, “Ti voglio bene… Austin… Ciao, Lexi… Lovely… to meet you… Come back soon…” And then she drifted off to asleep.
The tenderness on Austin’s face when he stared at his sleeping, sick momma almost brought me to tears. And when he moved to an old record player in the corner of the room and turned it on, a stray tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek. The soothing vocals of “Ave Maria” serenaded from the small speaker, and Austin looked at me and shrugged in embarrassment. “It makes her smile,” was all he said.
I lost a piece of my heart to him right then.
Austin motioned me out the door with his hand, and I covertly wiped my cheek. When the door to his momma’s room was shut, I rocked awkwardly on my feet.
“She likes you,” Austin said after a few tense seconds of silence, his lip sucked into the corner of his mouth.
For some reason, his momma liking me made me feel happy. “I like her too. She’s beautiful,” I replied.
Austin nodded, but it seemed like he couldn’t speak. It was like I could almost hear him add, But she won’t be around too much longer.
“You were real sweet with her,” I said and laid a comforting hand on his bulky shoulder.
“Sweet?” Austin said, looking horrified.
“Yeah, tough guy, you were sweet.”
“Well, I guess that sweetness of mine will have to last a bit longer, won’t it?” He began walking to the elevators and glanced back over his shoulder. “You coming, Pix?”
Wrapping my arms over my chest, I asked, “Pix? Why are you calling me Pix?”
Austin pressed the button for the elevator and tipped his head to the side. “My mamma thought you looked like a little dark pixie.” He regarded me intently, a sparkle of humor back in his eyes. “And I gotta agree.”
I tried to act affronted, but all I could think was that pixies were small and thin. They were tiny and skinny. Do Austin and his momma think I’m skinny?
That comment made me feel ten feet tall.
The elevator doors opened, and Austin and I stepped inside the empty car. “So where you parked?” he asked.
“Ground level parking lot. Where are you parked?”
“I’m not. I got the bus here. I ain’t got a ride like some.”
Playing with the sleeves of my shirt pulled tight over my palms, I asked, “You wanna ride back to school?”
Austin lifted his hand and dangling from his fingers were my car keys. He smiled. “I’m driving, so technically, I’ll be giving you a ride.”
My mouth dropped, and I checked my purse that was strapped across my body. The top was open. I looked back up at a smirking Austin.
“How—”
“I grew up in a trailer park, had to steal for money and food, and I was in a gang. Believe me, Pix, picking your pocket wasn’t too hard.” He looked down at the keys and shook his head in disappointment before looking at me again, then added, “But a Prius? Fuck, Pix! With a doctor as a daddy, couldn’t you at least have a Porsche?”
I tried to be pissed. I really did. But I was enjoying myself too damn much to really care.
And with Austin Carillo of all people. Whoever would’ve guessed?
The car pulled to a stop at my assigned parking spot on campus and Austin cut the engine. We hadn’t really spoken the whole way here, just listened to Lacuna Coil in companionable silence. One of my favorite bands.