by Amy Rachiele
“Whoa.” I walk to her. “I think you’ve…” Alessandra’s lips crush mine and the can in her fingers hits the floor. She is all over me. I gently pull her arms away. “Hold on a sec.” She easily slips her arms out of my grasp and wraps them back around my neck. She leans in again kissing me. It’s amazing… but wrong. I unwrap her body from mine. “I think we should call it a night.”
Alessandra’s eyes drift open at my words. A mix of emotion is there—hurt, exhaustion, fear. Her arms fall to her sides, seemingly too heavy for her to hold up anymore. Her eyes close and beneath her lashes little tiny tears drop.
I reach down and scoop her up into my arms, carrying her the short distance to the bed. I lay her down. After removing her high heels, I pull a blanket over her, tucking her into bed. I grab a pillow and blanket from the closet and make my bed on the floor, taking a mental note to go shopping for another twin bed.
*****
English class.
The whole entire room is watching me and my guest. Every guy in the room is staring at Alessandra. We are on display and it is fucking awkward, and for some reason this is irking me.
I choose two seats in the back. Alessandra sits beside me. Carl, a guy I know only from class, turns around in his seat.
“Hi,” he says, trying to sound cool, flashing a smile. “Are you new here?”
That’s his line? Really? He doesn’t have anything better than that? Dumb-ass!
“Yes,” Alessandra answers quietly.
The teacher enters, Professor Sisal. He always has a ton of books stacked in his arms. He hardly ever even refers to them but has them all the same. He pushes his glasses up on his nose.
“Good morning.”
Good morning is returned in a murmur from the half-awake students on a Monday morning.
“I hope everyone had a great weekend.” The professor sits on the edge of his desk, his tweed jacket pulling at the shoulders. He starts to go over some highlights from the reading when he stops and locks eyes with Alessandra. “Hello. And you are?”
“Alessandra Maranzano.” Her smile is coy. “I’m auditing” slides out of her mouth like butter.
Wow. Good one. That is a great explanation.
“Welcome.” He smiles back. I breathe a sigh of relief and think one class down—three more to go.
***
The place is dead. It’s eight-thirty on a Monday night and the store is closing in half an hour. We are getting dirty looks from some of the salespeople. Jake, Alessandra, and I are walking up and down aisles that contain a sea of white mattresses.
“Why don’t you get an air mattress?” Jake has a slight whine in his voice.
“We borrowed your friend’s truck. Let’s just get one and get out of here.”
“This is a nice one,” Alessandra notes. She sits down on it.
“If you like it, that is the one we’ll get.”
She lies down, checking it out. Her hair splays out behind her. She rubs her hand across the plush top and I get hard watching her. She is so seductive and attractive without even trying. I elbow Jake in the ribs; he is staring too. Ass!
“Can I help you?” A salesman comes toward us, smiling down at Alessandra.
I reach my hand out, gesturing for her to take it, and I gently pull her up off the bed. This guy ogling her makes me want to hit him. He stands close to her. Talk about invading someone’s personal bubble.
“We’ll take this one,” I say to him. I slip my hand into Alessandra’s, moving her away a few steps.
“Delivery?”
“No, we’ll take it now.”
Jake pulls the truck behind the building, and we load the mattress into the back. It’s dark with only the lights of the building. We have to do it ourselves. The store isn’t responsible for non-delivered items. So they watch us put it into the truck. Alessandra is in the cab waiting for us.
Over by the edge of the warehouse, I see someone standing in the shadows. Apparently, Jake, Alessandra, and I are the entertainment for the evening at the mattress store. As soon as I have the last of the metal frame in my hand, the salesperson slams the garage door down with a clank. Customer service at its best, I think mockingly.
***
“Dude! Just slide it. It’s rug!”
“I don’t want to mess it up.”
“It’s the side of the mattress. It’ll be fine.” Jake is getting aggravated.
“I’ve got it. Go get the frame,” I direct him, and I slide it through the hallway myself.
I lean it up against the wall outside my room. Alessandra is inside moving furniture around.
She sees me.
“I don’t know where it is going to fit.”
“How about on the same wall with a gap in between them?” I suggest.
Her hands are on her hips, thinking.
“Hmm… Sure. That should work.”
“Help me push it over.”
Together, we shift my bed over as far as it will go, without messing up opening and closing of the door. On the other side, there is enough room for another twin bed.
Jake comes in carrying the metal slats.
“We’re going to set it up there.” I point to the open space.
I help Jake set up the frame and then he helps me set the mattress in place. Alessandra has taken a spare set of sheets from my closet and is putting them on.
“Thanks, Jake. I appreciate the help.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Alessandra adds.
“If you guys push those together the last few inches, you’ll have a king-size bed.”
Alessandra meets my eyes.
“Hey, you guys already knew that!” Jake is teasing us, but he is getting on my nerves.
“Thanks! Now get out!” I joke but Jake gets the message.
“I have to return the truck. See you guys later.”
He leaves, closing the door.
***
“This is my first college football game.” Alessandra is excited. She pulls my Notre Dame jacket she borrowed from me closed against the November chill in the air. Her smile is warm when she looks over at me.
“I’m glad I could be here for your first.” Holy shit! That came out wrong. Alessandra gives a little laugh and focuses on the field.
The stadium is jam-packed with football fans. The die-hards have painted their faces and are waving all sorts of flags and posters with the Notre Dame insignia. Alessandra has her arms snug across her middle.
“Are you cold?”
“A little… I’m good.”
“Here.” I reach out my arm and settle myself close, the armrest the only thing between us. I wrap my arm around her.
“Is this better?”
She nods. Behind us, further up into the stands, a group of fraternity guys are chanting.
No-tre Dame!
No-tre Dame!
No-tre Dame!
“Things can get a little crazy,” I mention in her ear.
“I bet.”
The team runs out onto the field and we both get caught up in the moment as the quarterback, Jake, jogs on first. We stand clapping with everyone else.
“He looks great!” Alessandra yells over the cheering as she gazes down at the field. Jake’s arm is raised, hailing the crowd.
“Are you hungry?”
“I could go for a burger,” she says, caught up in the fray.
“I’ll be right back.” I climb the steps up to the concession area, realizing too late that I am leaving her alone. She is in a huge crowd and I will only be gone a few minutes. I turn to look over for a second across the sea of heads to find her to put my mind at ease when someone passes by hitting me hard, slapping their side with mine. It seemed deliberate and not accidental.
“Shit! Watch where you’re going!” I swing around out of annoyance but the person melts into the crowd. I barely get a glimpse of dark hair before it is swallowed up. I rub my arm and get in line, trying to shake the innocuous bump from someone in a crowd. It could happen t
o anyone, but there was something off about it.
I am relieved to find Alessandra exactly where I left her. “Here you go.” I hand her a burger wrapped with foil. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted on it so I grabbed a bunch of condiment packets.”
“Plain is great.”
“A plain burger? You need to load that up with ketchup and mayonnaise.”
“Yuck! No thanks.” She wrinkles her nose. I have the overwhelming urge to kiss it. Everyone around us jumps up cheering. I have no clue what happened. I scan the field and listen to the announcer over the loudspeaker.
“He zips the ball into the end zone to the running back just before getting taken down by a linebacker! Perfect!”
“He’s talking about Jake?”
“Yes.” I take a bite of my hotdog. It’s cold and the bun is soggy. I toss it into the little cardboard tray that I carried the food with.
“You don’t like it?” Alessandra questions, eating her burger.
“Nah, I’m not that hungry.” Normally, I would down the food without caring about the temperature or condition. But my mind keeps going back to the guy at the concession stand.
Chapter 8
Troy
I spin around in my desk chair and the vision of Alessandra crossed-legged reading a magazine on my bed stuns me. How can someone be so beautiful? The morning sunlight leaks through the blinds on my window, casting a soft glow around her. She has been here for a week, and we have fallen into a routine. It is sort of like she has always been here. These seven days have turned into a connection that feels like it has been there my entire life. Imagining her leaving gives me an unwanted stone in my stomach.
Knock, knock.
I stand and unlock the door.
“Hey. Blow off English and let’s get some breakfast.” Jake is leaning on the doorframe.
“I can’t.” I sigh. “I already missed a class and it is getting close to midterms.”
“How about I go with Jake?” My face falls at Alessandra’s request. “I don’t think I can take another day of Professor Droning-on-and-on.” She drops her magazine on my desk, joining us at the door. My immediate reaction is no, and it’s not because Vito said I have to watch her and not let her out of my sight. It’s because I want her with me. I am getting used to her being around and liking it way too much.
“Uh?”
“Hanging out with Jake should be fine.” Alessandra’s tone is hopeful and persuasive.
“Um… Let me talk to Jake for a minute.”
Alessandra waves her hand at me, a little disgusted, but doesn’t argue. She walks away from the door and picks her magazine back up.
I push Jake out into the hall.
“You’ll have to stay with her until I get back.”
“Why?”
“You just do.” My eyebrows cinch together, sending Jake the message that I can’t talk about it.
“That’s fine,” he agrees.
Jake steps around me back into my room.
“So, where do you want to go?”
Alessandra bounces off the bed, snatching her purse off my desk.
“Some place I haven’t been.”
The autumn sunlight blinds me immediately as I step out of the dorm with Jake and Alessandra. She is going with Jake and not me. I really don’t like that.
As I glance at her, movement grabs my attention. Someone is on the other side of a tree directly across from where we are standing.
“We’ll catch up with you after.” Jake bounces away, pleased to have a breakfast partner. I look again at Alessandra and feel a pang at the thought of not being with her. I peer again at the tree and the person is gone.
“Bye.” I glimpse at my watch, not wanting to be late. But the whole scenario seems unfinished, like I should give her a kiss goodbye. Maybe it’s that my feelings want me to. I gaze at her face and I see what I have been seeing on and off all week, a haunting dread. I question whether it’s from what she has gone through, which I still don’t know what that is, or it’s because she’s having second thoughts about going with Jake instead of me.
“Bye,” we say in harmony and discomfort rises to the surface. As I watch her and Jake walk away, I want to kick myself because I should have kissed her.
***
The clock on the wall above the professor’s head clicks by at a snail’s pace. I look down at my watch for what good it does. It is exactly the same fucking time. My fingers itch to take out my phone to check to make sure both the clock on the wall and the watch on my wrist are correct. My leg is bouncing underneath my desk.
What is she doing right now?
And with Jake?
Maybe I should send a text?
Jake’s a good-looking guy. What if she falls for him? She was a bit too happy to go to breakfast with him. What if something happens and I’m not there? Is being with Jake really safe?
Nothing has happened since she’s been here. I don’t even know what I expect to happen, just that Vito tells me to stay with her. He left me a gun so it must be bad.
“Troy?” Carl whispers, pulling me out of my inner messed up tirade. “Where’s that girl?”
“Why the fuck do you want to know?” All bodies in the room turn to me because what I said came out way too loud.
“Mr. O’Connell? Is there a problem?”
“No. No. Sorry, Professor Sisal,” I stammer. My eyes narrow at Carl. He sniggers and turns back to the front of the room.
Ass!
Alessandra
“Where are we going?”
It is a sunny Sunday afternoon, and I love hanging out together. Troy is being very secretive when he pulls his car in front of a small string of stores in South Bend.
“I think you need something sweet.”
“What?”
We get out of the car and Troy takes my hand, leading me to a tiny store on the end. A wooden sign decorated with a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting hangs strategically on an angle with the words Cupcake Queens.
I peer through the window, passed the billowing candy-striped curtains to the counter lined with all sorts of fancy cupcakes. Old-fashioned ice cream tables and chairs painted white are scattered across the quaint shop. Troy opens the door and a little bell rings.
“It is so cute in here,” I tell him.
“I thought you would like it.”
I stand over the rows on rows of cupcakes, deciding on the one I want. They have creative flavors like s’mores, mint chip, and lemon meringue pie.
“Can I help you?”
I am grinning ear to ear when I tell the clerk that I can’t decide.
“Get whatever you want. We can take some back to the dorm for later,” Troy suggests.
“What are you going to get?”
“I am going with the traditional white cake and chocolate frosting.”
“Really? There are so many different flavors here.”
I bend down, taking another good look into the brightly lit case.
“I have to go with the s’mores,” I declare. “It reminds me of barbequing in our small back yard in Palmetto.”
Troy sits at a table by the window, and I am right behind him carrying my enormous cupcake with half of a Hershey bar stuck into the graham cracker–dusted frosting.
“This looks so delicious.”
I peel the wrapper off the bottom, getting icing on my finger. I lick it off and catch Troy watching me. When my gaze falls to his a glob of chocolate frosting sits on the side of his lip. I can’t resist it so I lean across the table slowly and place my lips right over the wayward chocolate and suck it off.
Troy dips his finger into the top of his cupcake and wipes it on his lips. I laugh and lean forward again, sucking it off. Troy doesn’t let me move away. His hand tangles in my hair and he holds me close, kissing me. It’s sweet in more ways than one.
“I am definitely taking you for cupcakes more often.” Troy lets me go and we sit silently eating. I can’t shake off my grin.
; ***
It’s bedtime. I dread and look forward to it. I hate it because I never know when the nightmares are going to strike but I love it because Troy is lying inches from me, his bed close to mine. If the nightmares do come, he always consoles me. He sits by me until I can fall back to sleep. I turn on my side and cradle my hands beneath my head, staring at his empty pillow.
I wrestle with if I should push the beds together. It’s such a small space. It is insignificant. If I push the beds together, then Troy can be more comfortable if I have a bad dream.
I leap up, making the decision, and shove my bed into his, the blankets crumpling together as they are squished between my bed and his. I get back in mine, fixing my sheet. I fluff and punch my pillow and lie back down.
The door to the bathroom opens and Troy notices the beds. He takes his watch off and places it on his side table. He is wearing a pair of shorts. From what I can tell since coming here, he doesn’t really like to sleep in clothes.
He lifts his blankets and crawls in. He tugs on his sheets, freeing them from where I crushed them in between the beds.
“Is this okay?” I ask. He flips over to face me and props his head on his hand.
“This way you can be more comfortable and not have to get out of bed.” Am I trying to sound convincing?
“I love a thoughtful woman,” he jeers. He closes the short gap between us and gives me a quick kiss. “Goodnight.”
“’Night, Troy.” I shift, getting comfortable.
Bad dreams are going to be few and far between tonight. The small action of closing the gap between us makes me feel more settled and secure. The kiss was nice. I could get addicted to kissing Troy.
I squirm into the softness of the mattress, getting cozier before falling into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 9
Alessandra
Even while I rifle through my clothes, the daily weight of the haunting vision of my mother steals all of my energy. It sucks the life from me to the point of exhausting distraction. I hate it. I want it to stop. Some days are better than others. Waking up entangled in Troy’s arms has been comforting but eventually it all comes back in a tidal wave.