Chapter 6
Iwildly overestimate how easy it’ll be to nip around the block during break.
All I wanted was a cheap pack of biscuits to stash in my room for breakfast, and while I found those, finding my way back was not so simple.
Mostly because Venice doesn’t do blocks.
And Leo must have painted over the mural fast, because I walk past the Institute three times before realizing it’s the same place.
I’m annoyed I didn’t take a photo for Rebel.
Why did I worry what Leo and his mum would think?
A woman I assume is Silvia Rossetti is already there, dressed head to toe in green.
She’d totally pass as a Green Maiden from Scottish folklore, although right now I can’t tell if she’s the helpful kind or the drain-your-blood-in-a-forest kind.
But she smiles at me even though I’m late getting back, so I’m leaning towards helpful. For now.
The stools have been rearranged in a semicircle and – wait. Leo is sliding his backpack off the seat next to him, like he’s deliberately been keeping it free. And – no way – is that an actual smile? He pats the stool casually, like this is completely normal. Like we’re completely normal.
I sit cautiously, half-expecting the legs to give out beneath me or some other cruel prank.
Once I’ve settled, the Green Maiden steps forward with a large, official-looking folder.
‘For those who don’t know me, I’m Silvia Rossetti, head of the InterSTEAM cultural exchange here in Italy. And I’m thrilled to launch this new strand to open the arts to everyone.’
Her eyes find mine and I sink lower. That was not accidental. Evie Douglas, the charity case.
‘The timing couldn’t be more perfect,’ she continues. ‘Because something incredibly special is already happening here in Venice: Carnevale.’
There’s a muffled gasp from Veronica. She’s made her views on Carnevale pretty clear, and I assume Leo, her little mini-me, feels exactly the same. I check his reaction, annoyed that I want to know. But if Leo’s freaking out like his mum, he’s hiding it way better.
Nadia lights up, but most of the others pull faces. It’s giving me flashbacks to the rugby festival back home – some live for it, others lock themselves indoors until it’s over. Maybe Carnevale is the same here. A proper ‘love it or hate it’ thing.
‘The final showcase will be a public display on the water, with some very influential patrons watching!’ Silvia continues, unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm.
‘You will design a float featuring any art and sculptural work you develop over the next two weeks. We expect something bold, something that speaks to the Venice of today.’
‘Our art in a … parade?’ Veronica looks like she needs to sit down.
Silvia flashes a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take it step by step.’
Is she deliberately not getting it? Veronica’s horrified to be involved in something she despises – not panicking about getting it done in time.
‘Everything begins with research,’ Silvia goes on.
‘There’s a traditional boat parade on Sunday and plenty more to explore.
’ She turns a page in her folder. ‘Next week, we’ll make our own masks to blend tradition and creativity.
’ She glances up with a smile. ‘And for a little fun, a masquerade ball to wear them to.’
‘It’s not about fun,’ Veronica cuts in quickly. ‘We expect rigour. Something that upholds our principles.’
A flicker of irritation crosses Silvia’s face as she pages through her folder and pulls a sheet free.
‘Now, while the floats are individual, you are allowed to collaborate with your classmates and, from what Veronica has shared with me, I think the following pairings have the most to gain from working together …’
I listen closely, not really expecting to be mentioned at all. But then, right at the end – there I am. Paired with Leo.
He tosses me a smile, and I narrow my eyes suspiciously. What is it with this sudden seat-saving friendliness?
‘Do you know something I don’t?’ I whisper sharply.
He looks confused.
‘You’re plotting something. A prank … or maybe you want to sabotage my work.’
His confusion deepens into a frown. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Why. Are. You. Being. Nice?’ I clap out each word.
Leo laughs softly, and it’s hatefully delicious – somehow deep and light at the same time. I’m mentally adding musical notes to his faerie prince collage. But he doesn’t answer.
Leo’s eyes slide towards me. ‘Seems I’ll be taking you to the parade after all.’
I fold my arms across my chest. ‘Umm … aren’t you the boy who, when asked, said – and I quote – “no way”?’
He lifts a shoulder. ‘That was before …’
‘Before what exactly?’
He hesitates … and I lean in, genuinely curious about his sudden change of heart. But all he says is, ‘Before I came round to the idea.’
That’s all I get? Twenty minutes ago, he couldn’t even look at me without giving me frostbite. Then I pop out for a packet of biscuits and he’s acting like we’ve been mates all along.
And that smile … it’s doing something to my brain. He’s definitely one of the faerie folk. I can actually feel myself being charmed in real time. I’m even starting to make excuses for him, wondering if he was just having a bad day yesterday. And … erm … most of this morning.
But still – how does someone go from ‘no way’ to ‘I’ll take you’ in the time it took me to nip to the shop?