by Gina Azzi
“Buona notte, bella.”
I let myself into the apartment and am surprised that no one is home. Walking to the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of water and sit down at the table. Tonight was amazing. And special. It was a real date. I can’t believe I’m twenty-one years old and this is the first real date I’ve ever been on. I laugh to myself. Even though it’s been a long time coming, it was definitely worth the wait.
* * *
“So it was a real date? He really likes you!” Maura whispers on FaceTime.
“It was definitely a real date.” I press my fingers against my lips, remembering the goodnight kiss Lorenzo pressed there. “He was the perfect gentleman: sweet, caring, interested.” And although he’s always been like that with me, it was different somehow. It was more. And I still can’t wrap my mind around it. “Why are you whispering?” I ask Maura.
“Because.” Her eyes widen as if that’s supposed to tell me the entire story.
“Because why?” I widen my eyes back at her.
She giggles and it is the most uncharacteristic sound I’ve ever heard Maura make that my eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“Because I’m drunk,” she hiccups.
“What?” This time my eyes do widen. In surprise, shock, and concern.
She nods. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone. We’re technically dry.” She waves a hand. Her rowing team is always dry, her coach demanding nothing short of perfection from his rowers. And alcohol impedes perfection so Maura rarely drinks. Until now apparently.
“Why are you drinking?” I try to understand her change in behavior. Maura always put rowing before everything else. There is no way she would jeopardize her spot on the team, their season, by getting drunk on a whim.
She shrugs. “Felt like it.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Maura, I—”
“Oh, I have to tell you something important.” She cuts me off, her words slurring softly.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s about Lila.” She widens her eyes again.
And again, I have no idea what she’s trying to tell me.
My heart accelerates. “Is she okay?”
Maura shakes her head and fills me in on what’s happening with Lila and Cade. I groan out loud, my hand flying up to cover my mouth in shock as memories of my own mother’s cancer flit through my mind.
Poor Lila. This must be killing her. But really, poor Cade. My heart aches as I think about the challenges he is going to face in the coming weeks. The chemotherapy, the slow weakening of his body, the loss of his dreams. And I think about how Lila is going to have to be strong for him.
When I hang up with Maura, I squeeze my eyes shut tight.
Then I FaceTime Lila and provide her with whatever reassurance I can offer. She looks tired, bluish smudges visible under her eyes; I’ve never seen them on her before. She smiles at me wearily, her concern over Cade evident on her face, etched into her eyes. My heart goes out to her.
After we hang up, a wave of homesickness washes over me. I miss my friends. What the hell is going on? Maura drinking when her team is dry. Lila coming to terms with Cade’s diagnosis. Me liking two boys! I need to catch up with Emma, but clearly the pact is still intact. Life is pushing all of us way outside of our comfort zones, forcing us to deal with more challenges, more heartache, than we ever considered the night we sat around Dante’s restaurant, drinking wine and sangria in August.
* * *
The last thing I feel like doing tonight is going to a concert. Especially since I’m still worried about Maura and Lila. Especially since I’m still wallowing in homesickness. Especially since the temperature dropped ridiculously low for this time in October and it’s freezing out. Still, I don’t want to stay home alone. Paola and Gianluca have plans with their friends, and Lexi is going to the concert.
I guess I could call Lorenzo and see if he wants to hang out, but he’s been so busy with all of his family stuff, I don’t want to bother him. Plus, I promised Pete I would go tonight. And things between us are always so effortless, so natural, so easy, that I feel bad bailing on him. I always have fun when we’re together; he knows just what to say to make me laugh. And he’s a little piece of home. We’re practically neighbors. Maybe hanging out with him will stifle my longing for home and temporarily blot out how desperately I miss my friends.
The concert is in full swing when Lexi and I arrive. Pete’s already messaged me several times wondering where I am. Confused over my feelings for both him and Lorenzo, especially after the amazing date I enjoyed with Lorenzo earlier this week, I decide to skip his pre-game, assuring him I will meet him at the concert. And I do. With Lexi in tow.
Lexi tugs my hand, guiding me through throngs of students. The grassy hill is swarming with people and littered with empty beer bottles and cigarette butts. The band is perched on top of the hill, the music floating down over the crowd. Students sway drunkenly to the beat, bottles raised over their heads.
It’s positively freezing outside, and I’m grateful for the winter coat I wore over my wool scarf and knit sweater. I pull the cuffs down over my gloved fingers, and Lexi turns back to make sure I’m keeping up with her pace. “I see some people from my art history class over here.” She nods in the direction of her classmates.
“Okay.” I follow her through the crowd until we arrive by her friends. I’m happy when I see Pete is among the group. Good, now I won’t have to split from Lexi to find him.
“Hey, Mia.” Pete smiles at me, leaning close to brush a kiss across my lips. “You missed the pre-game.”
“Hi.” I wave my hand lamely. Pete just kissed me hello. What do I do with that? “Yeah, sorry about that. I decided to come with Lexi.”
He nods. “It’s cool. Want a beer?” He kicks a cooler that someone in the group must have brought along.
I shrug.
“We’d love some.” Lexi cuts in, giving me a look that I can’t decipher.
Pete reaches down and grabs two beers, popping off the tops with a keychain and handing them to Lexi and me. “Cheers.” He smiles.
“Salute,” Lexi addresses the group, raising the bottle above her head.
“Salute,” a chorus of voices cheers us.
I raise my bottle slightly, my eyes meeting Pete’s. A smile plays over his lips as he watches me take a swig of the beer. I wince when I swallow a large gulp. I never liked beer. Well, except for the occasional Blue Moon. But really, even then, I can only finish half a pint, and I load it up with as many orange slices I can fit. Emma says it barely counts as a beer at that point. More like orange juice.
Lexi loses herself in the crowd, laughing and joking with classmates, chatting up strangers. She looks over at me regularly to make sure I’m okay, that I’m still with the group. Within minutes I spot her sitting atop some guy’s shoulders, her beer bottle raised in the air, her jacket zipped up to her chin. She cheers on the band loudly. I suppress a smile.
I don’t know why, but tonight I feel incredibly out of place. It’s like a thin film of separation has settled over me, disconnecting me from reality, from everyone else. All I can think about is Maura’s slurring words, Lila’s heavy eyes. I just want to go home.
Get it together, Mia. You’re at a concert. In Rome. Try and enjoy it.
“Everything okay?” Pete asks, placing a hand on the small of my back and leaning forward so I can hear him over the music. He looks at me closely, concern in his eyes.
I plaster a smile on my lips. “Yeah, sure. Just a little homesick tonight,” I tell him honestly.
He nods in understanding, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. He kisses the top of my head affectionately. “Sorry, babe. We all get homesick sometimes. It will pass.”
I nod.
“You need anything?” he asks sweetly. He’s always so considerate.
“No. I’m glad I came tonight. Hanging with you is definitely better than wallowing in my own lame sadness.”
He laugh
s. “You’re never lame, Mia. And I’m glad I could help.”
I nod.
“I have something else that may cheer you up. At least for tonight.” Pete smiles, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a flask. He uncaps the silver flask and takes a long sip. He hands it out to me. “Here.”
I laugh. “Aren’t you fancy?”
Pete chuckles, waving the flask in his hand. “I know right? My friend and I had them made when I went to Germany last weekend. Kind of flashy but funny. A good memory, you know?”
“Yeah.” I agree. It’s a random item he will forget about when he gets home and then years from now will come across unexpectedly and think back to this trip, this experience, maybe even this moment, with a smile, a bittersweet nostalgia. “It’s pretty cool,” I comment, taking the flask and gingerly taking a sip. The liquid trickles down my throat, burning and blazing a trail deep in my stomach. I sputter and cough, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. My eyes water and sting. I feel like I tried to inhale underwater. I look at Pete expectantly.
He laughs. “It’s Scotch, straight from Scotland. Be careful, it sneaks up on you.”
I nod. I’m sure it does.
To my right, I see Lexi stumble forward. She’s laughing as an incredibly muscular guy spins her around. Her legs wrap around his torso as he lifts her easily, her arms entwining around his neck. When he stops spinning, he looks down at her, his lips curling into a smile, and kisses her senseless. She responds and inches herself up his body. His arm snakes around her back and rests under the swell of her ass to keep her in place as he leans into her, deepening their kiss.
I laugh. Lexi needs a win after learning about Pietro’s fiancée. Pete follows my line of sight and chuckles. “She’s a firecracker.” He juts his chin toward Lexi.
I nod in agreement.
The guy’s fingertips play with the edges of Lexi’s hair, and he whispers something in her ear. I see her nod in agreement and slide down his body until her feet are resting back on solid ground. She holds up her pointer finger to indicate she needs a minute and texts quickly with her left hand before slipping her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. Then she links arms with the tall, dark, and incredibly hot stranger and follows him out of the park.
A moment later my phone chimes with a text. I check the message quickly.
Lexi: Hey, doll. I met a hottie ;) Going to grab a drink with him. Message me if you need anything. Have fun with Pete! X
Of course she hooked up with a hottie.
I show Pete the message and he laughs, taking a deep pull from the flask. “Good for her.”
“Yeah, she needs to have a fun night.”
Above me the sky darkens as night rapidly falls. Around me laughter and conversations and drunken shrieks ring out. Within me a desperate longing I can’t place throbs. I close my eyes momentarily. When I open them, Pete is looking at me curiously. He uncaps the flask slowly and hands it to me. My fingers clench the cold metal tightly. Then I raise it to my lips, tip it back, and pour a generous amount of the contents down my throat, ignoring the burn, the blaze, the bite.
* * *
Sometime later, I don’t know exactly when, I find myself stumbling across the grassy expanse of lawn, trying to keep pace with Pete. The crowd has thinned out considerably. Tre Fratelli finished their set a while ago, I’m not quite sure how long, and since then, other bands from university have hopped up on stage, eager to entertain such a large crowd.
“Hurry, Mia,” Pete calls over his shoulder. His shoes scuff across the muddy tracks left by other students. He cuts across the park, pointing to something in the distance. “It’s just over here.”
I laugh loudly as my boot catches on a rock, and I stumble forward slightly. I manage to regain my balance before face planting on the ground. Yay me! “I’m coming.”
Pete waits for me at the entrance to the park. When I reach his side he places his arm around my waist. “It’s through here.” He nods with his chin to a small alleyway, narrow and dark and secret. His eyes shine mischievously. The moonlight casts shadows over his face, darkening his features. His eyes dart around for a moment and it’s only then that I realize we are alone. The air is crisp and cold and quiet.
Silence envelops us and I shiver. Pete tugs me closer into his side, wrapping his arm around my middle. “Come,” he whispers pulling me into the alleyway.
We walk in silence for several minutes before turning right. And then, the most beautiful thing happens. Right before my eyes, it’s as if Ancient Rome unfolds before us. Pillars and stones and beautiful carvings that recount timeless stories etched all along the ruins.
“Wow,” I whisper.
Pete tightens his grip on me. “I know, right?”
“This is amazing.”
“This is Rome.”
I nod. I can imagine these temples and arches before they fell into ruin, before the empire collapsed. I breathe in deep, seeing the senators walking the streets proudly in their robes. The beautiful women with dark curly hair, quick eyes, and soft smiles. The vestal virgins dressed all in white. I hear the loud squawks of children playing in the streets, smell the sticky heat, the stench of animals. I detect the tinge of ferocious power and certain inevitability of a glorious time. A frozen moment.
Pete’s hand rubs my lower back slowly, drawing tiny circles. I close my eyes and suddenly I feel exhausted. Bone tired. Pete wasn’t kidding, that Scotch is no joke. All I want is my bed and a pair of sweatpants. I snap my eyes open. What am I thinking? This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t fall asleep.
I step forward and snap a photo, quickly messaging it to the girls. Then, I plop down on a large boulder. Pete stands beside me. I look up into his open face, his scarf concealing his mouth from my view. “What time is it?”
“2:00AM.”
Wow! 2:00AM! The girls would be so proud of me. Out and about the streets of Rome in the middle of the night! I smile to myself. See? I can be present in the present, appreciate the moment, lose myself and all that jazz.
“What are you smiling about?” Pete asks, sitting down beside me.
I shake my head. “I’m being a night owl.”
He laughs. “You’re killing it, babe.” He pauses for a second and then his hands lift to frame my face, resting lightly on my cheeks, turning my head to gaze into his eyes. He licks his lips and his eyes dart down to my mouth before coming back to my eyes, searching.
He’s mere breaths away from kissing me. Again.
Oh my God.
Do I want Pete to kiss me? I freeze, unsure of what to say, what to do, uncertain of what I want. I could date him. I could be happy with Pete. But things are different now. I went on a real date with Lorenzo. Okay, so Pete doesn’t make my heart skip a beat or freeze time like Lorenzo does, but he is the easier option, the safer choice. And he does make me laugh.
He leans forward and presses his lips against mine. They’re surprisingly warm considering how cold it is. And gentle. And sweet. He moves his hands slowly into my hair, nothing at all like how Lorenzo passionately laces his fingers through my hair, digs his fingertips into my scalp, and presses himself against me, overwhelming my senses and numbing my mind.
Oh, Lorenzo!
My eyes open and I can count Pete’s eyelashes. He’s lost in the kiss we are sharing, oblivious that I’m no longer an active participant in this exchange. Gah! What do I do now? I pull away, raising my hands up to tug his palms away from my cheeks.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since I kissed you at Quattro Gusti. I’ve been waiting to get you alone, all to myself,” Pete says softly.
“Oh,” I reply, unsure how I should respond. Be honest with him, Mia. “I think …”
“You’re so hot, Mia.” He leans forward again, gripping my face more firmly this time, kissing me sloppily. Well, that’s a blatant lie. “So sweet.” His mouth tastes like the flask and suddenly I feel my stomach churn dangerously.
“Pete …”
I try to break the kiss. Sever the moment.
“Shh, just go with it.” His fingertips dig into my neck painfully.
“No, wait.” I turn my head away from him.
“What?” He stops, pulling away and glaring at me. His eyes blink, cloudy and unfocused as anger darkens his features. It’s so out of character for him, so far removed from his lopsided grin and enthusiastic laugh that I pull back, suddenly scared.
“Aren’t you enjoying this?” he asks. “You and I, we’re good together, Mia.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s …” I stutter. It’s what? What is wrong with me?
“Jesus, Mia.” He moans, dropping his hands and looking at his shoes. “We’ve been hanging out for weeks. When I kissed you at Quattro Gusti, you were in to it. We’ve been texting, studying together. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. You practically threw yourself at me tonight, polished off the entire flask and never left my side. And now you’re acting like you don’t want this.” He gestures between us with his hand. “Mia…” he raises his head again, his eyes looking through me “…I didn’t take you for such a cocktease.”
“I …” A cocktease? Is he serious? “Pete, listen …” I try again.
“What a waste of time.” He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at me. His words slur slightly from the alcohol. How drunk is he? “You were such a waste of my time and effort.” His lips curl cruelly, their gentleness completely gone.
I sit and stare at him dumbfounded. Did I miss something? Why is he so angry? What did I do wrong?
“Forget this.” Pete jerks his hand through his hair as he stands up, his back to me.
“Pete, I’m sorry you got the wrong impression. I’m sorry I don’t want to kiss you,” I apologize, standing behind him, reaching out to place a hand on his forearm.
“Kiss you?” He turns quickly, knocking my hand away clumsily. “I don’t want to just kiss you, Mia. I want to fuck you. Have a good time. See where this leads. You and me.” He gestures between us. “We’d be good together. I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but I’m over it.” He shakes his head. “I’m out of here. You’re not the person I thought you were.” He turns again, walking a few feet away. Kicking rocks along the path, he curses and mumbles insults under his breath. I hear the word bitch clearly followed by a torrid of other terrible words.