As Daniel and the girl neared their house, they walked through their quiet, friendly neighborhood. The streets were lined with old, sturdy trees, their branches arching over the sidewalks, casting faint shadows on the cracked pavement. The houses were modest, two-story homes, mostly built decades ago. A few neighbors were out and about—some tending to their lawns, others sitting on their porches. They offered friendly smiles and waved as the pair passed by, their faces warm and welcoming.
Their home was a modest, two-story structure with a small, welcoming front porch. The shutters were a soft blue, complementing the pale stone walls. A couple of potted plants sat neatly on the porch, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. A well-maintained strip of grass bordered the walkway, leading up to the front door with a touch of warmth and care.
As they reached the house, Daniel fumbled with his keys while she offered him support. Once inside, they found themselves standing in the entranceway, where they were greeted by Daniel's mom, Carmine. She had just returned from the grocery store, and the sound of the door opening had drawn her to the front hall.
Carmine's eyes widened as she stared at the two of them, her gaze shifting between Daniel and the unknown girl beside him. A gentle curiosity flickered across her face as she tried to piece together the unexpected situation.
The girl, however, felt her heart sink. I was supposed to stay hidden. The realization hit her hard, the rush of the accident having completely wiped it from her mind. She was standing right there, in plain view, in front of Daniel's mom. What have I done?
Daniel's reaction wasn't any better. His mind raced, panic bubbling to the surface. How am I supposed to explain this? He had no idea what to say, how to explain who she was or why she was here. His mom's questioning eyes made his stomach churn. The fear of what would come next left him frozen, his heart hammering in his chest.
"And who might this lovely young lady be?" Carmine asked warmly, her voice carrying a note of genuine interest as she offered the girl a kind smile.
The girl opened her mouth to respond but suddenly realized she didn't have a name. Panic flashed in her eyes, but then a voice in her head whispered, "Diana."
"I'm Diana," she said quickly, feeling a strange sense of certainty.
"She's a classmate from school," Daniel added, catching on. "We were on the bus together when it had an accident."
"A bus accident?" Carmine gasped, her face draining of color as she instinctively moved toward Daniel, hands hovering just above him as if afraid to touch him before checking if he was okay. "Are you alright? Why didn't you call me?" Her voice shook slightly, betraying the sudden wave of panic crashing through her. Her eyes darted to Diana, a flicker of suspicion and confusion crossing her face. "And you—Diana, was it? Are you alright?" she added, her tone still warm but edged with the kind of careful politeness reserved for strangers in unexpected situations.
Without waiting for a full explanation, she gently grabbed Daniel's shoulders, inspecting him as if she still couldn't believe he was standing there unharmed. "My God, Daniel, you could've been seriously hurt. I should've known something was wrong."
"Yeah, we're fine," Daniel assured her. "Diana really helped me out."
Carmine took a breath, her eyes softening as she stepped back slightly, giving them space. "Thank you, Diana," she said sincerely, offering her a warm smile. "Come in and rest for a bit. You must be shaken after something like that."
Diana glanced at Daniel, who gave a slight nod, silently conveying that it wouldn't hurt for her to come inside for a while. They both followed Carmine into the house, where the atmosphere was immediately comforting.
"Make yourself at home, Diana," Carmine said with a warm smile, guiding them into the living room. "I'm sorry for the mess—I've been so busy lately. It's not usually like this."
The living room was cozy but a bit cluttered, with books piled on the coffee table and a blanket draped haphazardly over the arm of the well-worn but inviting sofa. A couple of empty cups sat on a side table, and a stack of magazines teetered precariously on the edge of a chair. Despite the disarray, the space felt lived-in and welcoming, like a home that prioritized comfort over perfection.
In the kitchen, Carmine immediately began preparing the tea. She filled the kettle with water, set it on the stove, and selected a tin of loose-leaf tea from the cupboard. As she carefully measured the tea into the teapot, she glanced back at Daniel, her expression still gentle but now tinged with a hint of curiosity.
"So, how long have you known Diana?" she asked softly, her tone inviting rather than probing.
Embarrassed, Daniel stammered out a response. "She's just a friend, Mom. We met at school and ended up in the same class."
Carmine paused, a small, understanding smile forming as she hummed thoughtfully, choosing not to press further. "She seems like a lovely girl," she said simply, her voice kind.
Her eyes flicked from Daniel to Diana. "So, she helped you get home, didn't she?"
"Yeah," Daniel said quickly, grateful for the shift. "I hurt my foot and couldn't walk on my own, so she helped me out."
"Oh, Daniel, how did you hurt your foot?" Carmine asked, her concern immediate as she bent down to examine it. Her fingers brushed his ankle gently, her brows furrowing as she inspected it. "Are you sure it's just sore? It doesn't look right."
"Mom, it's fine. Really. It's just sore," Daniel reassured her, but she could hear the slight tension in his voice, the urge to move the conversation away from his injury—and from Diana. Carmine noticed, but decided not to push him too hard. She had so many questions, but something about the way they stood there made her pause.
"Alright," she murmured reluctantly, straightening up, though her gaze lingered on his foot a moment longer.
After ensuring that Daniel was okay, Carmine returned to making the tea. She poured the boiling water into the teapot and set out three cups on a tray, humming softly as she worked, creating a calm and soothing atmosphere. Daniel quickly excused himself from the kitchen, eager to avoid more questions. He rejoined Diana in the living room, where she sat on the couch, looking a bit more at ease.
Carmine, though, felt her mind buzzing with the questions she hadn't yet asked. The room felt warmer than usual, her hands slightly unsteady as she reached for the kettle and poured. She spilled a little water on the counter and frowned. "Get it together," she muttered under her breath, brushing the droplets away as she collected herself.
As the kettle began to hiss, she glanced over her shoulder at Diana, who sat quietly on the sofa. There was something about the girl Carmine couldn't quite place. Her eyes flickered back to Daniel, and for a brief moment, Carmine considered asking him more directly—but she shook her head. No, she didn't want to seem paranoid.
When Carmine returned with the tea, she set the tray down on the coffee table and poured a cup for Diana, offering it to her with a kind smile. "Here you go, dear. It'll help calm your nerves."
Diana took the cup gratefully, the warmth of the tea seeping into her hands. "Thank you, Mrs. Carmine," she said softly.
"You know," Carmine said with a small, forced laugh, "I'd say you're welcome here anytime, but let's avoid making bus accidents a habit, alright?" Her tone was light, but there was a subtle sharpness behind it, as if she were still trying to figure out if she should be worried. She smiled, though her eyes lingered a little too long on Diana, curiosity flickering behind the warmth.
Diana nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, Mrs. Carmine. I really appreciate it."
After finishing her tea, Diana thanked Carmine for her hospitality and left the house, acting as though she was heading home. Carmine watched her go, her gaze lingering thoughtfully on the door before she turned back to the kitchen, a soft smile still on her face. I shouldn't be like this, she thought. I should be happy Daniel is meeting new people.