I buy two packages of all the things that attract me most, quickly. I move rapidly. I get to the cash register and the heavy girl is there. I don’t look her in the face anyway. I look at the register display, waiting for the total to take out the money as quickly as possible while she packs up my shopping with enervating slowness. I almost feel like she’s doing it on purpose.
The bright lights in the rest stop restaurant and the odor of coffee are weighing me down. I hear the door open behind me and two male voices chatting. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them go to the counter and order two cups of coffee. I don’t turn to look at them, I don’t look up towards the waitress, I don’t meet anyone’s gaze. I place the money on the plate beside the cash register, take the two bags which are finally ready and leave without even saying good evening.
I’m still in time to stop myself, but I won’t do it. I am familiar with the state I’m in. I know that I’ll do it and I’m already, in part, beginning to detest myself starting now, but even this doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. The demon doesn’t care.
I arrive home and enter as silently as possible. Fortunately, my mother is sleeping.
I close myself in my room and begin to empty the bags quietly. Even if she’s sleeping I don’t want to take chances.
I sit on the floor and look at all there is. I just have to decide what to start with. And when I actually begin, the demon exults, happily. Kept at bay for months, almost defeated to the point that it was ages that I hadn’t felt him, that hadn’t heard his voice anymore, now he roars almost deafeningly with pleasure. For a second I had thought that he had gone forever…
And instead, no. He’s here, here with me now and he’s making me stuff myself, he’s making me fill myself with snack cakes, one after another, and then cookies, and chocolates and then another kind of snack.
The problem, or the lucky thing, is that my body is no longer what it was before and I’ve stuffed myself to the point of bursting a lot sooner than usual, a lot sooner than the last time. The demon isn’t even satisfied, but my body can’t keep up, can’t keep up with his fury…
I feel my stomach stretch and begin to feel sick. I move all the left-over food, which is a lot, and the empty wrappers, all colorful, as though taunting me with a fictitious glee – temptresses and traitors immediately afterwards - under the bed.
I begin to feel sick and throw myself on the bed, waiting for it to pass, for time to pass and my stomach to slowly empty. Almost immediately, looking at the ceiling and holding my stomach, I feel sick inside too, on a non-physical level. The demon is departing and only I remain now, alone to pick up the pieces of the destruction that he’s brought into my life once again. I begin to cry silently and I regret it, just like every other time. I feel weak and ugly and unworthy of anything. Just like every other time.
I get up because this time the physical pain is too great. I’m not able to wait for it to pass. I decide to do something that I haven’t done since the third year of junior high.
I open the door of my room and, with a damp stare, glance down the corridor, just to assure myself one-hundred percent that I won’t meet my mother right now. Obviously, the corridor is dark and a sleepy silence reigns.
I go to the bathroom, close the door softly behind me and, silently weeping, kneel in front of the toilet. Like a penitent before her confessor. A white and cold confessor. It’s degrading.
I poke two fingers in my throat and throw up immediately, while tears of pain run down my cheeks. It is a physical, tangible pain, because food just eaten hurts when it takes the return route, scratching everything with its passage as though to remind me that this isn’t what you do - It’s not something that works, nature doesn’t want this - and an invisible pain, in the mind and in the heart.
When I’ve finished, I close it up and pull the flush, resting in a cold embrace on my confessor, a futile embrace that brings no comfort.
In the quiet of my misery I hear a noise and the fear of being discovered like this by my mother makes me jump up, dry my eyes and open the bathroom window. With the night breeze on my face I stand listening for a second, but I don’t hear anything more. To avoid any more risk, I exit quickly and return to my room where I throw myself on my bed and stay there staring at the ceiling for hours, hating myself without crying anymore.
When my eyelids start to get heavy, the alarm rings.
***
At the cafè I don’t speak with anyone. Madame Barbieri tries to draw a few words out of me, but is unable to do so, and after a while she gives up, maybe also because of my swollen eyes which shamelessly betray a night of tears. They are also burning because of a total lack of sleep.
It’s about nine when Andrea comes into the cafè. Since by now he’s more than familiar with the rhythms of the place, he knows very well that I’m less busy at this hour and it’s for this reason that he’s making his completely futile appearance now. I’m at the counter and it’s enough to perceive him coming towards me to enable me to not meet his eyes voluntarily again. I immediately go in the kitchen, but I can’t stay there all morning… When I return to the dining room, I see, out of the corner of my eye, that he’s seated near Madame Barbieri, but he stands up as soon as he sees me.
I quickly distance myself from them, but he follows me. “Olly, I have to talk to you.”
“I don’t,” I reply tersely.
“Please, listen to me just for a moment and then I’ll go.”
I don’t answer. I busy myself picking up the dirty trays from a couple of tables that Rosy has left for me.
“I didn’t do it with malice…” He begins undeterred.
At this point I look up. “I don’t care Andrea! I don’t want to listen to you! Go away!”
“Listen to me!” He exclaims with heat and a look of pity in his eyes.
Anything would be okay, but pity no! “No!” And even if I didn’t want to yell, I must have inadvertently raised my voice because I see a few heads turn towards us. “I’m also working, in case you haven’t noticed,” I say, notably lowering my voice.
“I have a right to say my part… You can’t do this… It’s not fair…”
“I’m free to do what I want. That’s what free, adult beings do. They do what they want… and now I don’t want to listen to you because I’m not interested in what you have to say. It wouldn’t make any difference.”
“You can’t know that it wouldn’t make any difference or not before listening…”
I cross my arms on my chest. “You can leave now, let me work and don’t come around anymore. You’re free. Be grateful. You’re free to look for a new laboratory guinea-pig. Perhaps that way you can prepare your thesis for a specialization, or a doctorate…” I stop for a second, hesitating at the last phrase that I have on the tip of my tongue because maybe it’s too harsh, but then I say it because tonight has been just too hard for me, “And then at the end maybe you can take her to bed as well.”
He almost takes a step back, with his mouth open, as though I had given him another slap. Then he sighs with frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “No… you aren’t like this. The Olly that I know isn’t like this… closed and unreasonable. And she doesn’t think so badly…”
“You don’t know any Olly!” I answer, senselessly furious, seeking only to hurt him in some way, just to contradict him.
I go back to the kitchen and wait, with Leo who doesn’t say anything, doesn’t chide me. I wait until Rosy calls me saying that he’s gone and that there are people who would like to be served and that she isn’t paid to do double the work.
When I come back to the dining room he’s gone. I take a breath of relief, but my shoulders droop and my eyes fill with tears.
I quickly busy myself to take the orders of people waiting at the counter and do what they ask, meeting the gazes of the customers as little as possible.
After a while, once everyone has been served, I hear Madame Barbieri’s calm voice, “Olivia dear…”
/>
I shake my head and cry, “No!”, without even looking at her.
***
The Thursday of the following week I’m terrified that Andrea will appear with Nic as though nothing was wrong. But he doesn’t come, thank heavens. Right, thank heavens that I haven’t seen or heard from him since that day I told him to get lost.
Instead, strangely, Nic arrives with Linda. They greet me and I smile at them as though I were fine, as if an invisible truck had not run me over, as though my heart weren’t in pieces and as if I didn’t struggle every night for the last week with my demon. Sometimes I win, sometimes he wins, but despite who wins, the result is that I’m exhausted in the morning.
“You look a little tired…” Linda says, scrutinizing me closely when I bring them their breakfast at table.
“No, I’m fine,” I lie, and Nic laughs.
I roll my eyes and leave them.
Linda picks the right moment to come up behind me and ask me to talk, because all the tables have been served and no-one is calling me. I turn with an empty tray in my hands, which I hold against my stomach. “What is it.”
Linda touches her hair, plays with it. “I only wanted to ask… is everything alright?”
I look at her with an air of fatigue, cocking my head. “Spit it out.”
Linda sighs, hesitating just an instant. “We know that you’ve argued with Andrea because he came to cry to the twins the other evening.”
I straighten up instantly, raising my eyebrows.
“To cry in the figurative sense, not in the sense of tears…” Linda quickly corrects herself, gesturing and immediately understanding the expression on my face.
“Of course.”
“We know about the thesis… And even though it’s not a nice thing, isn’t it a little excessive to burn your bridges with him like this, without even giving him the chance to explain himself?”
I open my mouth in astonishment. “Oh poor him! And he’s such a man that he came to ask you two to put in a good word, right?”
“He said that he tried to talk to you right away and that he came here too, but you didn’t want to know about it.”
It’s true, but I don’t feel like saying he’s right in any case. “That doesn’t mean that he has to put you in the middle…”
Linda sighs, “Come on Olly… At least listen to him, he seemed really sorry.”
“Really?” I ask, lowering my voice and coming a lot closer to her, so I’m almost speaking in her ear. “And tell me, did he tell you that I discovered that I was his lab rat from the lips of Tiziana? You remember Tiziana? The dark-haired lovely he brought to the twins’ birthday?” I gesture as I speak. “And did he tell you that she told me when I found her at his house after he and I had done it three times just a few hours before? The first of which was my first time ever, as you well know?”
Linda’s face registers shock, her mouth opens without her being able to close it. “Oh my God…”
“Right,” I look at her tiredly, hugging my tray tightly.
“You didn’t… you didn’t tell me anything…”
I shrug. “I wasn’t really in the mood to speak about it the next day.”
Linda nods and for a while says nothing. “I didn’t know Olly. This… this changes things… It must have been terrible for you…”
“Exactly.”
Linda reflects, looking at her hands. “I still think that you should give him the chance to tell you what he wants to tell you before closing the door. But now… now I can understand why you were so rigid.”
I don’t answer. I don’t want to promise anything now. I don’t want to decide anything.
After a moment of embarrassment, so unusual between me and Linda, she clears her throat. “I wanted to ask you something else…”
I sigh. “Tell me.”
“Tomorrow evening will you go out with us?”
I’m breathing in and already shaking my head, but she doesn’t let me reply immediately.
“It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other and the twins want to go to a party where I don’t know anyone, so… I need the support of my friend.”
“Listen Linda, I don’t feel like going out. I really want to stay home to feel sorry for myself.”
“Come on, Olly…” She insists, making a puppy face. “Do it just for me. You’ll be taking a break from your commiseration for a few hours, while doing a favor for a friend. And then you can go right back to feeling sorry for yourself all the time you want.”
I huff, because I already know that I’ll say yes. Even if this thing is really a pain. In fact, Linda starts to smile. I roll my eyes skyward, moving towards the counter. “Okay, but I’ll come with my car, so I can leave when I want.”
“No,” she objects, crossing her arms and frowning. “Otherwise you’ll leave after five minutes… Come to the twins’ house and we’ll go together.”
I set the tray on the counter and cross my arms. “You are without pity, huh?”
The puppy look returns. She has an impressive facial mobility, this girl. “And then I’m leaving in a little while… We won’t see each other again!”
I look at her, narrowing my eyes – skeptical. “Hmmm.”
She smiles with satisfaction now. “So, meet us tomorrow evening at the twins’ house by nine-thirty, and dress up.”
“That too?”
Linda laughs, shrugging her shoulders and opening her arms with her hands up, as though she were innocent.
“And?”
“And that’s it,” she answers serenely. And while I’m about to turn around and get back to my work, she stops me again, as though she was just remembering something. “Uh, no. One more thing…”
“Yes?” I say, falsely polite.
Linda comes closer and leans on the counter. Instinctively I lean in and she whispers in a low voice, “I know you don’t want to speak about it… just tell me… how did your first time go? How was it?”
I jerk back, intent on not saying anything good about him, in any way. When I speak, the words that come out are: “It was beautiful.”
25.
Since I’m a person of my word, I am at the twins’ house at nine-thirty sharp.
I’ve put on a pair of narrow black pants and a dark green blouse, very floaty. I have black ballerinas on my feet and my hair loose. I hope Linda-the-Nazi will be happy.
I wait outside, sending her a message to let her know I’ve arrived and tell her to meet me without me having to go in. I’m not in the mood to withstand a siege on the part of Mrs. Bonaventura…
Linda comes out first, followed shortly afterwards by the twins.
When she gets closer, she looks me over from head to toe. She frowns slightly. “You’re not made up.”
I open my mouth, shocked, and roll my eyes skyward. “I’ll put on some mascara in the car, but are you crazy? Where are we going? Where is this party? At the Prince of Savoy in Milan?”
She doesn’t even answer and as soon as the twins join us, we begin to get into Nic’s car, parked in front of mine.
“You’ve never made all this fuss even when I went out much worse than this…” I scold her once I’m seated in the back seat next to her.
When Nic pulls away I fish the mascara and mirror out of my bag. Taking care, I slowly apply it to my lashes. “Happy?”
Linda shoots me a quick glance, then says severely, “Lipgloss,” before turning to look out the window again.
I look at her, open-mouthed for a while, but she doesn’t give me even a minimum of satisfaction because she’s staring at the landscape passing rapidly beyond the glass with her chin resting on a hand. Huffing, I slide the lipgloss on my mouth.
If I weren’t so wrapped up in my pain, I would have immediately detected something strange in her apparently sudden worried behavior. Instead I understand everything only when we enter a certain tree-lined boulevard in a residential area. A street I’ve already seen on two occasions.
I don’t say anyth
ing and they don’t either. Inside the car, they remain in religious silence. I don’t make any scene or reproach anyone. I stay very calm. When Nic parks in front of the bordeaux house - as I foresaw, it’s impressed on my memory with a few, brief looks – I get out of the car without saying a word and walk towards the main road. I’m ready to walk back to the twins’ house, where I’ll pick up my car and return to feeling sorry for myself in the peace of my room. Very calm. Very collected.
I hear Linda call me a couple of times, but I don’t listen to her. I continue to walk tranquilly, as though I were going for a stroll.
I don’t accelerate even when, almost arriving at the end of the tree-lined street that will lead me to the main road, I hear a car pull up at a crawl and a window being rolled down.
Without turning I speak directly to him, “I thought you were a friend Nic, but evidently I was wrong.”
“Get in the car Olly.”
The voice isn’t Nic’s however, and I’m so shocked that I stop for a second, just a second. I start walking again without answering, while my heart does somersaults and then goes down with a dull thump in my stomach.
“Olly, that’s enough. You’ve thrown enough tantrums. Get in the car or I’ll get out and load you in.”
“Heh.”
I hear an abrupt braking and a car door open and close with a certain violence. I admit that this makes me accelerate a little bit…
Andrea blocks me in front and the sight of him, suddenly, leaves me breathless despite all my good intentions to hate him… He leaves me breathless. After the first second of confusion, I go to pass him, but he moves, putting himself in front of me, like a wall. “That’s enough. You’ll let me speak and you’ll listen.”
I sigh, thinking that nothing that he could tell me would make me change my mind, while he’ll continue to stress me out until I’ve listened to him. So I give in. “Okay then. Talk.” I stop abruptly, crossing my arms.
“Oh.” He straightens. Clearly he didn’t expect such a rapid surrender. When he recovers, his features relax immediately. “Come on then, get in the car and we’ll go somewhere…” He says making a gesture for me to come with him towards the car behind me.
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