Chapter 65 Opportunity

Chapter 65 Opportunity
Luigi's POV
IT TOOK me exactly three days to realize that whatever had happened between Carlos and Tasha wasn't temporary.
At first, I thought they were simply arguing. That wouldn't have been unusual.
The two of them had always found reasons to clash. Most of the time, their disagreements lasted less than an hour before one of them inevitably sought the other out again.
That wasn't happening anymore. The difference was impossible to ignore.
I noticed it during engineering meetings, racing simulations. I noticed it in the cafeteria.
Most importantly, I noticed it in the things that weren't happening.
Carlos wasn't sitting beside her anymore. He wasn't teasing her during discussions. He wasn't looking for her whenever he entered a room.
And Tasha wasn't rolling her eyes at his comments. She wasn't arguing with him. She wasn't smiling nearly as much.
The distance between them seemed to grow larger every day.
I leaned back in my chair during a vehicle dynamics lecture and watched them from opposite sides of the room.
Carlos sat near the front, focused entirely on the professor. Tasha sat several rows away. Neither looked at the other. It was almost impressive.
A few months ago, keeping them apart would have required a military operation. Now they acted like strangers. The realization should have made me happy.
For a long time, I had wanted an opportunity. A chance. Any indication that Tasha might eventually see me as something more than a friend.
Yet as I watched her stare absently at her notebook, she didn't look happier without Carlos. She looked tired.
And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should have. 
When class ended, students immediately began gathering their things. I watched Tasha remain seated. Most people hurried toward lunch. 
She didn't move. Her attention remained fixed on something written in her notebook. Or perhaps she wasn't looking at anything at all.
I recognized that expression. People wore it when they were physically present but mentally somewhere else.
I waited until the room emptied before approaching. "Tasha."
She blinked and looked up. For a brief moment, surprise crossed her face. Then she smiled. It wasn't a fake smile.
But it wasn't her usual one either. "Hey."
I nodded toward the notebook. "You look like you're trying to solve world hunger."
She glanced down. "I wish."
"That bad?"
She sighed. "You have no idea."
Actually, I probably did. Maybe not the details. But enough.
I sat in the chair beside her. "Have you eaten yet?"
"No."
"Good."
She frowned. "Why is that good?"
"Because I'm about to save you from yourself."
Now she looked genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"
I stood and grabbed my bag. "Coffee."
"What?"
"Coffee," I repeated. "And possibly food if you're willing to make responsible life choices."
A small laugh escaped her. It wasn't much. But it was more genuine than anything I'd heard from her all week.
I considered that a victory. "Tasha."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What?"
"That was a laugh."
"It was not."
"It absolutely was."
She shook her head. "It was a brief respiratory malfunction."
I grinned. "There she is."
For the first time since approaching her, the heaviness in her expression eased slightly. "You're ridiculous."
"I've been called worse."
"Frequently?"
"Almost daily."
That earned another laugh. This one lasted longer. And somehow, hearing it made me happier than it probably should have.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting inside one of the cafés near campus. The place wasn't crowded, which suited me perfectly. Tasha sat across from me with a cup of coffee in her hands.
For a while, neither of us discussed anything serious. We talked about classes. Professors. A student who had somehow managed to crash a simulation vehicle into a virtual wall three times in one session.
By the time she nearly choked laughing at that story, I knew I'd made the right decision. Because she looked relaxed.
Then the conversation gradually shifted. The way real conversations often do.
"Can I ask you something?" I said.
Tasha raised an eyebrow. "That sounds dangerous."
"It probably is."
"Go ahead."
I studied her for a moment. Then I chose my words carefully. "Are you okay?"
The smile faded. Not completely but just enough. And suddenly I knew the question had landed exactly where I intended.
She looked down at her coffee. "I don't know."
The honesty surprised me. Most people would have immediately claimed they were fine. Tasha wasn't most people.
"I feel like everything is changing at once," she admitted quietly.
I remained silent. Giving her space. Giving her permission to continue.
She traced a finger around the rim of her cup. "The investigation keeps getting more complicated."
I nodded. 
"The situation with Old Man Reyes is frustrating."
Another nod.
Then she sighed. "And everything else is just..."
Her voice trailed off. I knew exactly what she wasn't saying.
Carlos.
She didn't need to say his name. The absence was obvious. I considered responding.
Instead, I asked a different question. "What do you need?"
She blinked. "What?"
"What would help?"
Tasha stared at me. Apparently, it wasn't the response she expected. Most people offered advice. Solutions and opinions. I wasn't interested in any of those.
After a long pause, she finally smiled. "Honestly? I think I need one day without another disaster."
I laughed. "That's fair."
"Just one."
"I'll see what I can arrange."
She pointed at me. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"No, I think I can handle that one,” I said.
"You have remarkable confidence,” she said rolling her eyes.
"I have remarkable delusion."
"That sounds more accurate."
The conversation flowed more easily after that. And somewhere during the next hour, I realized something important.
I didn't actually need to compete with Carlos. Or Primo. Or anyone else. I didn't need schemes, manipulation or strategic opportunities.
If Tasha eventually chose someone else, that would hurt. But I wasn't going to become someone I disliked just to improve my chances.
She deserved better than that. And frankly, so did I.
When we finally left the café, she looked noticeably lighter.
Later that afternoon, we ended up working together on a design project for one of our engineering modules.
The project involved analyzing aerodynamic efficiency and proposing several modifications to an existing prototype.
The work should have been boring. Instead, it became surprisingly enjoyable. Mostly because Tasha was brilliant. Watching her work was fascinating. Ideas connected inside her mind differently than they did for most people. She could spot mechanical problems before anyone else noticed they existed.
At one point, she became so focused on a diagram that she accidentally drew across the wrong section.
I immediately pointed toward the page. "You just redesigned the laws of physics."
She frowned. "What?"
I turned the notebook toward her. 
She stared and then groaned. "Oh no."
"Oh yes."
She rolled her eyes. "I hate you."
"That's understandable."
She laughed and covered her face with one hand. "There goes twenty minutes of work."
I picked up an eraser and handed it to her. "Fortunately, engineering has prepared for this exact situation."
She accepted it. Still laughing. And for a moment, the sadness disappeared completely.