Chapter 67 The Rival

Chapter 67 The Rival
Carlos's POV
I TOLD myself I didn't care.
The problem was that my eyes kept proving me wrong.
From the second-floor balcony outside the Racing Department, I had a perfect view of the central courtyard. Students moved between buildings beneath me, weaving through clusters of conversations and study groups as another afternoon settled over Vanguard.
I should have been reviewing simulation data. Instead, I found myself staring at Natasha Hamilton. Again.
I muttered a curse under my breath and looked away. For approximately three seconds. Then my gaze drifted right back.
This was becoming a serious problem. Not because Tasha was difficult to find. Quite the opposite. I had become annoyingly good at noticing her without trying.
A glimpse of dark hair across campus.
A familiar laugh in a crowded hallway.
The sound of her voice during a lecture.
My attention seemed to locate her automatically before my brain had a chance to object. I hated it.
Especially because things were supposed to be different now. She had made her choice. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
I had seen Primo kiss her. I had seen the way she looked at him afterward. Whatever existed between them had clearly moved beyond friendship.
That should have been enough. It should have given me the closure I needed. Instead, it had somehow left me feeling worse.
“Are you planning to stand there all day?”
The voice behind me broke through my thoughts. I turned to find Mateo leaning against the doorway. He glanced toward the courtyard. Then he looked at me.
A slow grin appeared on his face. “Oh.”
Immediately, I knew where this was going. “No.”
“You're watching her.”
I straightened. “I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
I folded my arms. “I'm standing outside.”
“While staring directly at Natasha.” Mateo laughed. “You know, denial only works when the evidence isn't visible from space.”
I ignored him. Unfortunately, that only encouraged him. His gaze followed mine toward the courtyard.
“Interesting.”
I already disliked that word. “What?”
“She's with Luigi.”
I clenched my jaw. “Congratulations. Your eyesight works.”
“Touchy.”
I looked away again. Unfortunately, Mateo wasn't wrong. Tasha was with Luigi.
The two of them sat beneath one of the large trees near the engineering building. Papers were spread across the table between them while they worked on something together.
At least, they appeared to be working. Most of the time, they seemed to be talking. And laughing. A lot. I immediately hated that observation. Because I had no right to hate it.
Tasha was free to spend time with whoever she wanted. She didn't belong to me. She never had. Yet every time Luigi made her smile, something unpleasant twisted inside my chest.
“Wow,” Mateo said quietly.
I looked at him. “What now?”
“You really don't like this.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Sure.” He crossed his arms. Then he studied me for a moment. “You know what's funny?”
“No,” I said. “And, I don’t care.”
“You're more annoyed by Luigi than Primo.”
I opened my mouth. Then closed it again. Because I couldn't immediately argue.
Mateo noticed. His grin widened. “Oh my God.”
I shoved past him and headed back inside. His laughter followed me down the hallway. The irritating thing was that he might actually be right.
And that realization refused to leave me alone.
The problem followed me into the simulation lab. It followed me through practice sessions. It followed me into dinner. Every time I managed to stop thinking about it, something brought it back.
Usually Luigi. 
The universe seemed determined to place him everywhere. 
By the end of the week, I had witnessed him and Tasha sharing coffee twice. Working together three separate times. And eating lunch together often enough that people had started noticing. That word bothered me too.
Because Vanguard loved gossip.
And once people noticed something, they immediately started inventing stories around it. I was leaving the Racing Center one evening when I heard exactly that happening.
Two students stood near the entrance talking. Neither noticed me approaching.
“Do you think they're dating?”
“I don't know.”
“They spend a lot of time together.”
“Maybe.”
“Honestly, they look good together.”
I kept walking. But those words followed me all the way across campus. 
They look good together. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
Yet somehow I couldn't stop thinking about them.
The next afternoon brought another opportunity for me to behave like a rational adult. Naturally, I failed. I entered the engineering workshop to discuss upcoming simulation schedules.
The moment I stepped inside, I spotted Tasha. And Luigi. Of course. They stood beside one of the testing stations examining a prototype component.
I immediately considered leaving. Then Tasha laughed. The sound made me pause. There had been a time when I heard that laugh almost every day.
Now it felt strangely unfamiliar. Like something I remembered instead of something I experienced.
Luigi said something I couldn't hear. Tasha rolled her eyes. Then she laughed again.
The sight irritated me instantly, which was absurd. I knew it was absurd.
The logical part of my brain was screaming that I had no claim over her. No expectation. No right. The emotional part wasn't listening.
“Carlos.”
I looked up. Professor Adler was approaching.
“Perfect timing.”
I forced my attention away from Tasha. “What do you need?”
The professor handed me several reports. As we discussed schedules, I became painfully aware of the fact that Tasha and Luigi remained nearby.
Every few seconds my attention drifted back toward them. I hated myself for it. Eventually the conversation ended and I turned to leave.
At that exact moment, Tasha glanced in my direction. Our eyes met.
For a brief second, neither of us moved. Something flickered across her expression. Surprise. Then uncertainty.
The familiar ache returned immediately. Before either of us could speak, Luigi said something beside her.
Tasha looked away and the moment ended.
And somehow that bothered me even more.

THAT NIGHT, I found myself sitting alone in one of the racing lounges. The campus had mostly quieted down.
Outside the windows, lights illuminated the pathways between buildings.
My laptop sat open in front of me. Untouched. I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. This was ridiculous.
I already knew how this story ended. Tasha had chosen Primo. Everything else was irrelevant. Primo was the one investigating Ricardo Hamilton with her. Primo was the one she trusted. Primo was the one she had kissed.
Every fact pointed in the same direction. So why did Luigi bother me more? The question appeared unexpectedly.
And once it appeared, I couldn't ignore it. Primo had always been my rival. That wasn't new. We competed constantly. Perhaps some part of me had expected him.
Luigi was different. He wasn't aggressive. He wasn't calculating. He wasn't trying to win. Which somehow made him more dangerous.
Because Tasha genuinely liked him. Not because of investigations. Not because of shared secrets. She liked being around him. The realization settled heavily in my chest.
For several moments, I sat there staring into space. Then another uncomfortable truth arrived. One I had been avoiding for weeks.
I wasn't actually angry at Luigi. I was jealous.
The word felt unpleasant. Humiliating. Yet it fit perfectly.
I was jealous because Luigi could make her laugh. Jealous because he could spend time with her openly. Jealous because she seemed comfortable around him.
The more I thought about it, the worse it became.
A slow realization formed. Then solidified. Then became impossible to deny. I wasn't jealous of one person. I was jealous of two.
Primo had what I thought Tasha wanted.
Luigi had what I wished I still had.
And somehow, despite every effort to move on, I found myself caught between both of them.
For the first time, I admitted the truth. Losing Tasha had hurt. But watching other people become important to her was proving far worse.