Chapter 13
Jacopo’s mum seemed to be on a mission to make me eat my body weight in pastries this morning, with a buffet-style breakfast laid out in the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure if it was because she’d found the empty biscuit packet while cleaning my room yesterday.
Or if Veronica left instructions to feed the charity case before heading to the Institute earlier than usual – probably for an emergency meeting with Silvia to check I’m even eligible for the programme.
It’s all I can think about on the walk to the studio.
And Jacopo’s non-stop chatter only breaks through when we reach the newly painted hoardings and his voice gets louder.
‘Bon! It is a beautiful blank canvas again. It would be a shame to waste it.’
Leo says something under his breath as he shoulders past. Molto divertente, maybe. If I’m right, it means very funny. Although not to Leo.
Probably because he’s the one who has to deal with it.
Jacopo’s far more bothered by a piece of litter he’s spotted than Leo’s reaction. He scoops up the empty fast-food carton and heads for the nearest bin.
‘A me!’ Nadia calls, hurrying towards us, waving her arm like a footballer looking for a pass.
Jacopo lobs the carton over and she plucks it out of the air, sinking it in the recycling bin across the street. She catches up with us, greeting me with two quick cheek kisses, Italian style. Has our friendship levelled up?
‘Good throw.’ She offers Jacopo her hand. ‘You are Leo’s friend, sì?’
I brace for the dating-manual routine, for him kissing her hand like he did with me, but it’s just a plain handshake. No grin. No chat-up line. If anything, he looks a bit thrown, like he’s stunned by her effortless catch, or that someone else cares about litter.
Nadia smiles, already tugging me towards the door, leaving him standing there.
The room quiets the moment we go inside, and when Nadia rubs my arm, I know I didn’t imagine it. I tense at the sheet of A4 paper sitting on my desk, convinced it’s my marching orders, until I see everyone has one.
It’s a diagram of a long, flat-bottomed batelina like the one I fell out of.
‘Your portraits will be displayed on boats like this one,’ Veronica explains. ‘They will be mounted on the panel shown. Please note the maximum measurements, as you will need to allow for a rower at the stern.’
‘Bringing back memories, Nessie?’ Leo murmurs.
I don’t rise to it. Rowing together. Laughing. That stupid, fluttery feeling in my stomach. He’d already seen my portrait by then. And he’d already written me off as a rubbish artist.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘We have to work together.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ I snap. ‘Your mother literally offered you a way out.’
‘Maybe I don’t want one.’
‘Why, though?’
‘I just think—’
‘Leonardo,’ Veronica cuts in smoothly. ‘I spoke to your father this morning and he suggested you work closely with Evie on this. Perhaps she could focus on the backgrounds, and you could handle the foregrounds.’
It’s clever, the way she puts it – foreground and background, as if they carry equal weight. Like anyone’s fooled by that.
But when she moves on, Leo slides a sketchbook in front of me. ‘Draw it your own way.’
I narrow my eyes. ‘Is that what you’re doing?’
‘It’s different for me.’
‘Ugh, see? I was starting to think you were all right at the weekend, then you go full condescending.’
‘I mean … my fami—’
‘Yeah, yeah, I get it. Your family’s different to mine. Better, right?’
He drops his head into his hands. ‘That’s not … Urca! Why do I keep saying the wrong things around you?’
‘It’s not that you say the wrong things, Leo. It’s that you think them in the first place. And you’re wrong. My family’s exactly the same as yours – well, not exactly. I wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t funded. But they don’t think I’m good enough either.’
I clamp my mouth shut. I did not mean for all that to slip out.
Behind me, Fulvio slaps his desk. ‘I get it now.’ His eyes stray to my baggy cardigan. ‘You are here to make the school more inclusive so that they receive more money.’
Heat creeps up my neck, mostly because I’ve had that thought myself.
‘Ignore him,’ Leo mutters. ‘He’s just bitter his friend isn’t good enough to get in, and now he’s decided you’re the reason.’ He shrugs, like that should be the end of it. ‘We need to get to work on this.’
But instead of drawing, Leo taps at his screen, checking it every few seconds.
‘Are you going to be on your phone the whole time?’
‘At least mine works,’ he says coolly. ‘Yours malfunctions every time your family calls.’
That shuts me up. I need to be more careful. Leo’s paying more attention than I realized.