Chapter 15 Consequences of Dating
Tasha’s POV
“YOU’RE seriously not going to tell me how you ended up dating Carlos Santiago?”
Lila’s voice carried from across the room just as I stepped out of the bathroom, my fingers still working through the ends of my damp hair with a towel.
I paused for a second. Because the word dating still felt… wrong.
Too clean and simple. And none of those things actually applied.
“I’m not dating him,” I said, forcing my tone to stay light as I walked further into the room, moving toward my bed like everything about this conversation didn’t make my chest feel tight.
Lila turned toward me immediately, arms crossed, one brow lifting in disbelief.
“Right,” she said slowly. “And I’m the Dean of Vanguard.”
I let out a quiet breath, dropping the towel onto the back of the chair as I sat down, pulling my knees slightly closer to myself.
“It just… happened,” I added.
It sounded weak. Even to me.
Lila stared at me for a second longer, like she was trying to decide if I was joking or just refusing to admit something obvious.
“‘Just happened’?” she repeated, walking closer and stopping right in front of me. “Tasha, this isn’t like spilling coffee on someone or accidentally signing up for the wrong class. This is Carlos Santiago.”
“I know who he is.”
“Do you?” she asked, her tone sharpening slightly. “Because from where I’m standing, you went from invisible to the most talked about girl on campus in less than a week.”
I swallowed. Because that part? That part was true.
“I didn’t plan this,” I said quietly.
Lila studied my face. Carefully.
“You didn’t,” she agreed after a moment. “But you’re in it now.”
Silence settled between us for a second.
Then she sighed, dropping onto the edge of her own bed. “And what about Luigi?” she added, her tone shifting slightly, softer but more curious now.
I blinked. “What about him?”
Lila gave me a look. The kind that said she knew more than she was saying.
“Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”
“Notice what?”
“The way he looks at you,” she replied simply.
My chest tightened slightly. I looked down at my hands. “I think you’re overthinking it,” I said.
“I don’t overthink,” Lila shot back. “I observe.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
“He’s just… nice,” I added, trying to keep my tone steady. “That’s all.”
“Nice doesn’t look at someone like that.”
I didn’t respond. Because I didn’t know how to. Because I had noticed.
The way Luigi’s voice softened when he talked to me.
The way his attention didn’t feel forced or calculated.
The way he had looked at me earlier tonight.
Like I mattered. Like he actually cared. And that scared me in a completely different way.
“I don’t get it,” I admitted quietly, finally meeting her gaze again. “Why would he even…”
I trailed off. Lila tilted her head slightly.
“Why would he like you?” she finished.
I winced. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.”
I exhaled slowly.
“I just… don’t fit here,” I said. “You said it yourself. Everyone here already has their place. Their people. Their… history.”
“And you think that means no one’s allowed to like you?” she asked.
“I think it means it doesn’t make sense.”
Lila leaned back slightly, studying me again. “Maybe it doesn’t have to make sense,” she said.
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t sure I believed that.
“Just be careful,” she added after a moment, her tone shifting again, more serious now. “About Bianca.”
That name alone made something in my chest tighten. “I’m not scared of her,” I said.
“You should be,” Lila replied immediately.
I frowned slightly.
“She’s not just some jealous ex, Tasha. She knows how this place works. She knows how to make people turn on you without even trying.”
“I can handle her.”
“Can you?” Lila asked.
I hesitated. Just for a second. And that was enough.
“She already went after you once,” Lila continued. “You think she’s going to stop there?”
I looked away. Because I didn’t have an answer.
“Why did they even break up?” I asked instead, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
Lila paused. Her expression shifting slightly.
“You don’t know?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
She leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms again as she considered her words.
“Rumor has it,” she started, her voice lowering slightly like this was something she wasn’t supposed to be saying out loud, “Bianca cheated on him.”
I blinked. “What?”
“With one of the senior racing trainers,” she added. “A guy who already graduated.”
The words settled slowly. “He found out?” I asked.
“Apparently,” she said. “And it wasn’t quiet.”
I frowned. That didn’t sound like Carlos. Not the controlled version of him I knew.
“What happened?” I pressed.
“No one knows the full story,” Lila admitted. “But whatever it was, it ended badly. And Bianca didn’t take it well.”
I looked down again, my fingers curling slightly against the fabric of my hoodie.
“And now?” I asked.
“Now,” Lila said, “he’s on track to make it into an actual F1 team. And suddenly, she’s interested again.”
Something about that didn’t sit right. Not because it was surprising. But because it felt… calculated.
And for a moment, I thought about the way Carlos had looked tonight. The way he had held onto control like it was the only thing keeping everything together.
The way he had reacted when he saw me with Luigi. The way he had asked if it was Bianca.
A small, unexpected feeling settled in my chest. Pity. I didn’t like it. But it was there.
“He didn’t deserve that,” I said quietly.
Lila didn’t respond right away. She just watched me. Like she was trying to figure out something I hadn’t said.
A knock at the door cut through the silence. Both of us looked up.
“I’ll get it,” Lila said, pushing herself off the bed.
I stayed where I was, my thoughts still tangled in everything we had just talked about.
Until the door opened.
“Oh,” Lila said.
That tone. I knew that tone. I looked up. And there he was.
Luigi.
Standing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee. His gaze found mine almost immediately.
“Hey,” he said, his voice softening just slightly.
Something in my chest shifted again.
“Hi,” I replied.
He stepped inside, handing one of the cups to Lila before walking toward me. “I figured you might need this,” he said, offering me the other one.
I hesitated for a second. Then took it.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
Our fingers brushed slightly. And for once, it didn’t feel overwhelming.
It felt… steady.
“You feeling better?” he asked.
“A little,” I admitted.
He nodded. Then his expression shifted. Not dramatically. But enough.
“Was it Bianca?” he asked.
The question came out calm and direct. Like he already knew the answer.
I hesitated. Because saying it out loud made it real. Made it heavier.
But then I nodded. Just slightly. “Yes.”
Luigi exhaled quietly. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m not surprised.”
I frowned slightly. “You’re not?”
He shook his head. “She’s been like that for a while,” he said. “Especially when it comes to anything involving Carlos.”
That made sense. More than I wanted it to.
“But what does surprise me,” he added, his gaze sharpening slightly as he looked at me, “is that he let it happen.”
My grip tightened slightly around the cup. “He didn’t know,” I said.
“Didn’t he?” Luigi asked.
I looked up at him. Lila was also listening behind him, eyes wide while sipping her cup and looking at me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, brows slightly furrowed.
“I saw him,” he said. “At the event just now, talking to her.”
The words landed quietly. But they hit hard.
“He was with her,” Luigi continued. “While you were here… dealing with that.”
I didn’t say anything. Because I couldn’t. Because suddenly, everything felt different.
The night.
The party.
The way Carlos had acted.
The way he had held me.
The way he hadn’t been there.
Heat rose behind my eyes again. But this time, it wasn’t from humiliation. It was something else. Something heavier. Something that settled deep in my chest and refused to move.
“Oh,” I said.
It came out smaller than I intended.
Luigi’s expression softened slightly.
“I’m not saying this to upset you,” he added quickly. “I just… think you deserve better than that.”
I swallowed.
Because I didn’t know what to say to that. Because part of me wanted to defend Carlos. And part of me… couldn’t because I had seen it too.
I looked down at the coffee in my hands, watching the faint steam rise and trying to steady the thoughts that were starting to spiral.
This wasn’t real.
None of it was.
So why did it hurt like it was?