Encounter
The party was already dying when Diego decided it was time to bounce. It smelled like stale cigarette smoke and spilled beer, the kind of university party that starts loud and ends with people whispering in corners like they’re afraid to admit they’re bored.
Luis had dragged him there with the usual bullshit: “Just for a bit, bro.” Now Luis was nowhere to be found, probably making out with some exchange student, and Diego was standing in the kitchen holding a warm beer he didn’t even want anymore.
That’s when he noticed her.
She was sitting on the oldest, saggy couch in the living room, legs crossed, crushing a red plastic cup in her hand. She wasn’t talking to anyone. Just staring at the floor with this face that said “I want to leave” and “don’t talk to me” at the same time. Dark hair in a messy ponytail, oversized gray hoodie, looking both comfortable and completely out of place.
Diego hesitated for a second. This wasn’t his usual move. Still, he walked over.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
She looked up at him, eyes scanning him up and down without trying to hide it.
“Depends,” she said. “You gonna talk about soccer or crypto?”
Diego let out a short laugh.
“Neither. Promised.”
“Then sit,” she replied, scooting over maybe five inches. Not exactly welcoming.
He sat down. At first it was awkward. One of those silences that feel longer than they are. She took a sip from her almost-empty cup and glanced at him sideways.
“Valeria,” she said.
“Diego.”
The conversation started bumpy. She complained that she hated big parties because “everyone pretends they’re having the time of their fucking lives.” Diego agreed, but then she dropped this line:
“Still, I always end up coming because being alone in my apartment feels worse. Pathetic, right?”
She said it with a sarcastic little smile, but her tone wasn’t fully joking. Diego wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel uncomfortable.
“A little,” he answered honestly. “But I only came because my friend forced me. So we’re even on the pathetic scale.”
Valeria gave a dry laugh. For a moment she seemed to loosen up. They started talking for real. She was studying psychology but admitted she sometimes wondered if she’d picked the wrong thing. He told her he was in graphic design and spent entire nights drawing shit he ended up erasing because “it looked like garbage.”
At some point the talk got better. They touched on series, how fucked the future looked, how their parents seemed to have given up on understanding them. But it wasn’t all smooth.
Out of nowhere Valeria said something that threw him off:
“Sometimes I think I’m good at listening to other people... but when someone actually listens to me, it feels like hives. I don’t know what to do with that.”
She said it while looking away, like she immediately regretted opening her mouth. Diego felt a quick pang of doubt. Was she being too open, or just drunk?
He changed the subject fast, but the comment kept spinning in his head.
The party kept emptying out. The music dropped to a low murmur. Soon it was just the two of them on the couch, with only the hallway light on and the early morning light starting to creep through the window. The atmosphere felt weird — intimate and fragile at the same time, like one wrong word could break everything.
Valeria went quiet for a long stretch, picking at the edge of her empty cup. Then she looked straight at him.
“I liked talking to you,” she said. She paused, like she was searching for the right words. “I mean... for real. I don’t know if that sounds weird.”
Diego felt something warm in his chest, but also this uneasy twist. The conversation had gone well — better than well — but there was something about her that didn’t quite fit. Like she was testing how much she could open up before slamming the door shut again.
“It doesn’t sound weird,” he replied. “I liked it too.”
Valeria nodded, but she didn’t fully smile. She stood up, grabbed her jacket, and pulled out her phone.
“Give me your number then,” she said, almost like it was a challenge.
Diego gave it to her. She saved it and sent him a quick text so he’d have hers. His phone buzzed in his hand.
Before heading to the door, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
“I don’t even know why I’m asking for it, honestly,” she said with a crooked half-smile. “But... see you around, Diego.”
“See you, Valeria.”
She left without turning back. Diego stayed sitting on the sunken couch, phone in his hand, with this strange feeling in his stomach.
The conversation had been good.Really good, even.
But there was something off about it.Something small he couldn’t quite see yet.
Like that easy connection was hiding a tiny crack.
And for some reason he couldn’t explain, it bothered him more than it should.
