While our mothers talked, the two men behind Signora Santini cast their hard gazes around the room, giving me the impression they didn’t approve of my home.
I leaned in closer to Salvatore. “Your uncles are scary-looking.”
He smiled at me. “They’re not my uncles, silly.”
“But they always pick you and your brothers up from school.”
“Because they’re my famiglia’s soldati.”
I frowned. “Why would you have soldiers?”
“For protection.”
“From who?”
“People who want to hurt me and my famiglia.”
“Why would people do that?”
“Because my famiglia are Mafiosi.”
I shook my head, not believing him. My mother often complained about the mafia, saying they were criminals who were ruining our country. I looked over at her. She was still happily chatting to Salvatore’s mother.
I refocused on Salvatore. “You’re lying.”
“Am not.”
“You must be, because my mother wouldn’t talk to a criminal.”
His face dropped, his blue eyes looking hurt. “My mamma is not a criminal.”
“She must be if you’re famiglia are Mafiosi. My mamma said the Mafiosi are ruining Italy, and that they’re all criminals who deserve to rot in jail for their sins against man and God.”
He shot to his feet. “And you’re an imbecille who knows nothing!” He stormed over to his mother. “I want to leave!”
Signora Santini turned to her son, appearing surprised. “What’s wrong, Totò?”
“I want to go!” he yelled. “Rosa called us criminals.”
She placed a hand on his back and turned to my mother. “Please excuse us. We shall take our leave now.”
They left the house with the two men following close behind. I looked up at my mother, who was staring at me in shock. My heart sank, what I’d done hitting me. Bursting into tears, I jumped up and ran for my room, knowing that I’d lost my best friend.
***
I tried to apologize to Salvatore at school, but he wouldn’t listen. He walked away every time I went near him. After that, the other students started ignoring me too. It was as though he’d turned them all against me. And every day, I went home in tears. Not because I was no longer popular, but because I’d lost my best friend.
For a few weeks afterwards I continued to radio him, desperate for us to be friends again, but he never answered me. Then two months after the party incident, he didn’t turn up to school. Even though he ignored me, I always looked out for him. I didn’t know when it had begun, but I’d grown a crush on him. Maybe it was when he’d started to ignore me. It wasn’t because I wanted someone I couldn’t have; it was because it was the first time since I’d met him that I truly noticed how handsome he was. Before he was just my friend, but now all I saw was a beautiful boy, someone who constantly filled my daydreams while his name filled my notebooks.
Which was why, I’d instantly noticed his absence. And when he didn’t show the following week, I started to worry that he’d moved away. By the third week, I finally got up the courage to ask one of his friends why he wasn’t at school.
“He broke his arm and leg,” the boy said, then went back to reading his comic book.
As soon as school finished, I jumped on my bike and took off without my younger brother. I headed straight for the hospital, which luckily was close by. I padlocked my bike near the front entrance of the large white-stone building and entered the foyer, running for the nurses’ desk. I ignored the bustling patients, pushing my way to the front of the line.
“I want to see Salvatore Santini please,” I said to the harsh-looking nurse behind the desk.
“Move to the back of the line, ragazza.”
I started crying, scared she wouldn’t let me see him. “He-he’s my be-best friend. He-he’s hurt.”
The woman behind me placed a hand on my shoulder. “Help the darling, I can wait.”
Nodding, the nurse checked her files. “Sorry, there’s no one by that name in our hospital.”
“Please check again,” I said.
She shook her head at me. “He’s not here. Contact his famiglia.”
Thanking her, I ran out of the hospital and grabbed my bike, riding straight home. My mother met me at the front door, yelling at me for not returning with my nine-year-old brother. Antonio was standing next to her with a smirk on his face, probably happy I was in trouble.
My mother stopped yelling. “What’s happened, Rosa?” she asked, my distraught appearance probably concerning her.
I burst into fresh tears, only just managing to tell her what Salvatore’s friend had said. She took my hand and directed me inside, saying she would find out if he was all right. Letting go of my hand, she checked the phone book, then picked up the receiver and dialed a number. She started talking into the phone, asking about Salvatore. Once she’d finished, she hung up and bobbed down in front of me, taking a hold of my arms.
“He’s all right, bambina,” she said.
“Then why isn’t he at school?”
“His famiglia are under lockdown, which means he can’t leave their property.”
“Why?”
“Because they were attacked.”
My eyes widened. “Why?”
“Bad men were trying to kill Salvatore’s father. They blew up his car, killing the driver. Salvatore had been walking towards it, and got flung back.” She breathed out. “The Santini are dangerous people to be around. Nothing good can come from being Salvatore’s friend.”
“I’m not his friend anymore, he ignores me.”
“Which is for the best. His famiglia are bad.”
“Then why were you so nice to his mother at my party?”
“Because she’s a very powerful woman. One word from her can change people’s lives for the worse. So, bambina, please forget about her son.”
“But I love him!” I blurted out.
A sad smile pulled at her lips. “I know he may seem the most important person in the world to you right now, but believe me when I say you’ll fall in love with a lot of boys. Salvatore might be your first love, but he won’t be your last.” She kissed my head.
It was the first time I’d learned that my mother could be wrong, because I never fell for anyone else—Salvatore my first and only love.
3 Months Later
We were always friends
I just had to remind him
When Salvatore finally returned to school, he’d changed, becoming even more distant. And it wasn’t just with me; it was with his old friends as well. He froze everyone out, except for his brothers and the two guards that followed them everywhere. I used to watch him play from a distance, wishing it was me he was kicking the football to. I’d been thinking that when his oldest brother kicked the ball too hard. It shot past Salvatore, hitting the seat next to me.
Ricardo called out¸ “Throw me the ball!” He was twelve and looked similar to Salvatore, just with violet eyes like his mother, and a meaner expression. Kids were scared of him, because he had a violent temper and would constantly cause fights. But he never got in trouble, probably because the teachers were scared of his parents, since they were Mafiosi.
“Throw me the ball!” Ricardo repeated. “Now!”
I quickly picked up the ball and threw it. Unfortunately, my throw was weak and only got as far as Salvatore’s feet.
“Grazie, Rosa,” Salvatore said, giving me a smile.
I sat up straighter, so happy he’d spoken to me and even happier he’d said my name. He hadn’t paid me any attention since my birthday party, which had been over six months ago.
The rest of the day, I didn’t lose my smile. When I got home, my mother asked me why I was so happy.
“I did good in a test,” I lied, not wanting her to know it was because of Salvatore. She’d been complaining more and more about the mafia, saying the criminals should all be locked away. But Salvato
re wasn’t a criminal … maybe Ricardo … but never Salvatore. He was too nice to be one.
That night I turned on my handheld radio, wishing I could talk to him like we used to. His smile came back to me, encouraging me to radio through. A few seconds later, his voice crackled over the wavelength, “Pronto?”
I bounced on my bed, excited he’d answered me. “It’s Rosa,” I said back, smiling so wide I was sure my face would split in two.
“I know, silly. You want to play a game?”
“Sì.” And as though nothing had happened, we started playing a card game, those months apart falling away in the blink of an eye.
After he lost the game, he began joking around, imitating one of Ricardo’s tantrums, his brother obviously not in the room. I laughed so loud that my mother opened my door. I quickly hid the radio under my covers, hoping she hadn’t seen it.
She looked inside my tiny room. “Who were you talking to?” she asked, her gaze going to my bedroom window.
“Myself. I was practicing lines for a play.”
“Well, stop it. It’s an hour past your bedtime. You need to go to sleep.”
“I will, Mamma.”
As soon as she’d closed my door, I pulled out the radio, hoping that Salvatore wasn’t mad at me for cutting him off.
He answered a few seconds later. “What happened?”
Keeping my voice down, I told him about my mother almost catching me.
“I’m tired anyway,” he said. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
I wished him goodnight, now looking forward to school.
***
For the remainder of the year, we played and sat next to each other at school. But during the holidays, I didn’t see him at all. Even though I wasn’t fond of school, being away from him made me hate the holidays, only our chats over the radio making it bearable. When school started back up again, we continued to be best friends. Unfortunately, I wanted more, but knew he didn’t like me in that way. We were just friends, nothing else. But being with him was still the best part of my day.
Though, I’d been wrong.
He had felt the same way, I just didn’t find out until we were sixteen.
1994
I thought every girl who flirted with Salvatore was a threat
When in all truth, I was my own biggest enemy
Like his brothers, Salvatore constantly had girls coming up to him, asking if he wanted to go to the movies or the mall. He’d grown so tall and handsome that even the younger female teachers paid him attention. I also knew every girl in our year was jealous that I got to hang around with him. Though, they didn’t need to be jealous, since it was a torment knowing I couldn’t be with him in the way I wanted. I also felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells, just waiting for a pretty girl to take him away from me.
One day during break, the most popular girl in our year came up to him. Selena Orsini had emerald eyes and long blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face. She worked part-time as a model and had even gone to Paris to strut the catwalks. To make matters worse, she was from a mafia family, one that knew Salvatore’s.
Selena stopped in front of Salvatore, who was sitting next to me on a seat outside the music department. She smiled down at him, looking like she could eat him up. I wanted to yell at her not to look at him like that ... that ... that he was mine! But I kept my mouth shut, because I had no claim on him. He was just a friend, nothing more, no matter how much I wanted him to be.
“Ciao, Salvatore,” she said. Even her voice sounded nice, while mine resembled a small child’s. I hadn’t grown much. My height had settled at five-foot, while Salvatore just kept on shooting up like Jack’s beanstalk. He was at least six foot tall now, probably more, because every time I turned away from him, I was sure he’d grown another inch.
He grunted something unintelligible at Signorina Perfect and opened his food bag. He appeared more interested in what he had inside it than the beautiful girl standing in front of him.
He screwed up his nose. “Why does the cook always give me prosciutto? I hate it.” He looked at my biscuits. “You want to trade?”
“I’ll trade with you,” Selena piped up.
He looked up at her. “What have you got?”
“Cannoli.”
A big smile spread across his face, Salvatore obviously loving the sweet pastry. “I’ll definitely swap.”
She giggled. “Then come with me,” she said, overemphasizing the come.
My stomach sank as he pushed to his feet. I watched in a frozen state of horror as he followed her over to her seat, which was a short walk across the concrete quad, the classrooms surrounding it in a U shape. She bent over to search through her bag, revealing her lacy panties, her skirt so short. Salvatore’s head moved down, no doubt Selena’s pert butt catching his attention. A second later, his head snapped around to me, the worried look on his face making me wonder what was wrong.
He turned away from Selena and quickly strode back with his food bag still clutched in his hand. “I’m really sorry,” he said, sitting down next to me. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?” I asked, even though I was. I just didn’t want him to know it, since I had no right to criticize him.
“For looking at Selena’s culo.”
I scowled at him, annoyed he’d admitted to ogling her ass.
He took my hand. “I didn’t do it on purpose; she bent down right in front of me. Please forgive me.”
My gaze dropped to his hand, which swamped mine. “Okay,” I said, feeling thrilled he was touching me.
“Does that mean you’re not going to leave me?”
I looked back up. “Why would I leave you? I have no say in what you do.”
“But…” He frowned, appearing confused. “You sure you’re not upset that I looked?”
“Why should I be? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend.”
He whipped his hand back, hurt coloring his eyes. “I forgot; I have to be somewhere.” Grabbing his school bag, he jumped up and took off.
I stared after his retreating figure, totally confused.
***
He avoided me for the rest of the day, not even answering my radio call that night. The next day he came to class late, sitting at the front of the room instead of by me. As soon as the bell rang, he shot out the door. I couldn’t find him during the break, and he turned up late for all our other classes together, taking a seat he normally wouldn’t sit in. In math, he even ordered a boy to move since the only other seat was next to me.
He did the same the following day, causing me to become even more upset. I didn’t understand why he was avoiding me.
On the third day, he continued this pattern of avoidance - turning up late for class and sitting on the opposite side of the room from me. During math, I glared across the room at the back of his head, which stuck out since he was so tall. As the minutes ticked by, I worked myself up more and more, because I hadn’t done anything wrong—he had. He was the one who looked at Selena’s culo, while I’d been nice about the whole situation.
When the bell rang, he shot out of class once again. I got up and raced after him, spotting his tall form disappearing into the boys’ restroom. Stomping mad, I went to our next class, but instead of entering it, I waited for him by the door, wanting to confront him about avoiding me.
I saw him before he saw me. He had his head down and was walking down the hallway, holding his books against his chest. As he neared our class he looked up, stopping in his tracks when he saw me. He appeared startled by my presence, looking like an animal caught in headlights, unable to move away from my glare.
“Why are you avoiding me?” I snapped, probably too harshly. But I was annoyed, and rightly so.
“Um...”
“Um, what?”
He looked down at the floor, then back at me. “I’m sorry, I was embarrassed.”
“About what?”
“That you turned me down.”
/> “What do you mean?” I asked, his answer not making any sense.
“I thought...” He breathed out. “Look, don’t worry about it, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“Assumed what?”
He grimaced. “You don’t have to rub it in my face.”
“You’re not making sense, Salvatore. What are you talking about?”
“That you don’t want me as your boyfriend.”
I froze, his words surreal.
His grimace deepened. “It’s just better we don’t hang out anymore.” He pushed past me and entered the classroom.
I stood there in shock. He’d thought I was his girlfriend?
The teacher walked past me, snapping me out of my stunned state. I followed him inside the classroom. My eyes instantly went to Salvatore. He was sitting in a chair a few rows back with his head down, looking sad. My heartbeat picked up. He’d thought I was his girlfriend!
Feeling elated, I walked up to the desk next to him. “Move,” I said to Selena Orsini, annoyed she was hitting on him. She had her hand on his arm, trying to get his attention. She turned her head to me, looking as though she wasn’t sure I’d spoken to her.
“Move,” I repeated.
She blinked, appearing shocked, probably because I was ordering her about. No one told the mafia kids what to do, yet here I was breaking every protocol so I could sit next to Salvatore.
“Move,” I said yet again.
“No! Get your own seat.”
“My seat is next to my boyfriend, so move!”
She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder, giving me an arrogant smile. “He’s not your boyfriend, ragazzina,” she said, calling me a little girl, “so run back to your nursery school—”
“Shut your mouth and get your fat culo away from him, puttana!” I yelled, now furious.
Her green eyes went round, disbelief painting her perfectly made-up face. Not only had I spoken back to a mafia kid, but I’d told her she had a fat ass and was a whore. A few boys started sniggering, while the other students stared at me in disbelief, a couple of them gasping.
I Love You, Salvatore Page 2