46. THEO
46
THEO
The next few days are spent in a lazy terracotta haze. I sneak into Magdalen’s room after spending the day at the beach with Dante and Anika. We come back home around five, all of us sleepy with too much sun and the ever-flowing spiked granitas Anika keeps shoving in front of us. Stumbling through the front door, we’ll shake the sand off our feet and they’ll run to see who can get to the big bathroom first. I’ll walk slower than the rest of them, letting Dante go to the fancy bathroom so I can find Magdalen upstairs and join her if she’s in the shower. She’ll tell me about England and her friend Emily, naked and covered in soap, and I’ll try to control my erection because she’s naked and covered in soap and thinks I’m paying attention to a story about her friend. But I love it so much when she speaks. She massages herself with the loofa and I ask about her favourite literary theory.
The nightmares have stopped. I don’t want to say it’s all because of her, but it’s hard not to feel like I’ve saved all my truths so I can share them with her. Things about home I couldn’t think about without panicking, don’t feel as bad. Tennis on the beach. Talking through my dissertation. She can talk about Jane Austen for hours. At dinner I’ll sneak a glance and she’ll graze my ankle with her toe. I’ll refill her glass when I notice it’s empty. There’s an openness to her that I have only seen when I watch her talk to Anika, and I know I’m acting the same way. She’ll sneak out of my room when the sun rises, or we hear Dante and Anika unlock the front door after their night out. She wears my sweatshirt now when she’s cold.
Dante and I haven’t spoken one-on-one since the fight, but after a day, we are both wearing down. We’re speaking through other people’s stories. Like when Anika asks me how my face feels, Dante will blow air through his teeth and throw some sand around. He’s desperate to say something. And, when I ask Magdalen about the scariest dream she’s ever had, Dante will interrupt with a story about how he once stuck his dad’s finger in a bowl of water to make him pee while he was sleeping but it didn’t work and Dr Savoy ended up catching a cold instead.
Our fights have a very temporary shelf life. We’ll start like this and eventually one of us will ask a neutral question. Like, ‘Do you know the time? Oh, and by the way, is this thing over yet? I’ve been dying to tell you about what’s been happening.’
Tonight is our last night in Alassio and the wedding is in two weeks. I watch Magdalen walk back from the gelateria with Anika, wearing overalls and a turquoise scarf around her chest – she’s sunburnt on her forehead and nose. My daydreams now consist of putting sun cream on her shoulders and washing salt water out of that beautiful fucking hair in the shower. She licks the gelato dripping down the cone and I audibly mutter under my breath.
‘Jesus.’ I try to look anywhere else to distract me and end up catching two men with thinning hair chain-smoking cigarettes near the entrance of the gelateria ogling at Magdalen with no shame. But she’s completely oblivious. Anika narrows her eyes at the men, immediately shutting them up. But my Magdalen still doesn’t look, doesn’t even know what’s happening as she continues to lick her gelato. There’s something about her lack of awareness that makes me inexplicably fucking sad.
Coming up to my table while Anika looks at keychains outside one of the shops, she plops down in the furthest chair from me.
‘Excuse me?’ I ask. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Munching,’ she says, and wraps her lips around the tip of the ice cream.
‘Magdalen,’ I say, my voice inexcusably low.
‘Yes?’ She flutters her eyelashes, and this time when she licks the dripping cream she stares directly at me.
‘Are you flirting with me?’ I ask, turning my chair slightly to face her.
‘That depends.’ She wipes some of the ice cream on her lips with her finger slowly. Achingly slow. And it’s such a beautiful sight, innocent and seductive, I’m scared of what I would do to keep her always looking at me. ‘Is it working?’
‘It always works with you.’
Unable to stand the distance, I reach out my foot and hook my toes underneath her chair, pulling her towards me.
She yelps and almost drops the cone, but recovers quickly enough when my hands slide up her thighs to steady her.
‘I’d like to taste,’ I say when she’s close enough, and lean forward in my chair, wanting to put my mouth where hers was. To lick the ice cream with the taste of her still on it. Her eyes are wide, and the sunburn on her cheeks makes them greener.
‘By all means,’ she says, and puts the gelato between us. I wrap my hand around the one holding the ice cream and she sucks in a breath. ‘Déjà vu,’ she whispers, and I know she’s remembering the ocean, my hand over hers, guiding her as she touched me.
I gently squeeze her hand and bring the ice cream to my mouth, looking closely at her while I dip my tongue to the top and rotate our hands to get a full taste.
Magdalen squirms in her seat and I’m immediately hard when I think about her being turned on by me. ‘How is it?’ she asks shakily, her eyes trained on my lips. I lean back in my chair to keep myself from throwing the ice cream on the floor and ripping that bandana off her.
I muse over the question. ‘I’ve tasted sweeter.’
She smiles that smile where her upper lip almost touches the top of her nose, and I grip the chair to stay seated. ‘Now you’re flirting with me .’
‘Always am, sweet girl.’
A plastic bag is thrown down on the table, breaking the trance between us, and Anika coughs loudly. ‘The sexual tension between you two is radiating through the entire fucking town.’ She pulls up another chair and sits between us. ‘I know Dante and I gave you our blessing, but for the love of god can you not give the poor ice cream a joint blow job in the middle of the street?’
‘Anika!’ Magdalen slams her back against the chair to create some distance between us and looks around worriedly for Dante.
‘Don’t worry. He’s trying to flirt with the lady at the tabaccheria .’
‘Isn’t she like seventy years old?’ I ask, wondering if it’s the woman I’m thinking of.
‘Yeah.’
‘And we’re not going to acknowledge that him flirting with a seventy-year-old is a little weird.’
‘Nah,’ Anika says, and bites down on her cone. ‘He’s done much worse.’
‘True,’ Magdalen and I say at the same time.
Anika stares at us for a moment before rolling her eyes and says, with a mouth full of gelato, ‘Oh, gag me. They’re speaking at the same time now. Listen, I know I’m the one that inadvertently pushed you two together, but I’m going to need you to not be this disgusting. You’re turning into Lucia and Maio.’
‘So sorry, it won’t happen again.’ Magdalen places her hand on her heart. ‘I swear.’
‘As long as Dante’s not here, I can’t make that promise.’ I shrug.
Anika gasps loudly. ‘Excuse me! Aren’t you afraid of my wrath? I could punch you too, you know!’
‘My god, Anika, I’m literally begging you to try to punch me.’
‘Oh, what? Because you’re obnoxiously tall and your biceps are the size of my calves, you think I can’t do it?’
‘It has nothing to do with my calf-sized biceps. I just know you – you’re happy!’
I leap forward and take the last bite of her ice cream cone before she can stop me and she shrieks helplessly.
‘No, you did not just do that.’ She stares at her empty hand, stunned.
‘It unfortunately looks like I did.’
‘You better walk away right now or, I swear to god, I will punch you so hard your liver will come out of your mouth.’
I chew the cone loudly, smacking my lips. ‘Mhm, only if Magdalen can come with me.’
‘Ugh, get out of my face, you complete and utter swine.’
I chew louder, gulping the last bit of the sugary wafer down, hands mockingly on my hips as I stand. ‘Magdalen,’ I ask, turning to her, ‘would you accompany me for a drink? I’m feeling particularly parched.’
‘Why, I’d love to. That is if Anika doesn’t want to join?’
Anika covers her mouth with her hands as her eyes bounce from Magdalen to me in horror.
‘Oh god, what have I created...?’
‘So is that a no?’ Magdalen gets up from her chair, gracefully ignoring Anika’s distress.
‘Is it too late to be Lucia’s best friend instead?’
‘You little bitch!’ Magdalen gasps and goes to swat Anika, who moves away before she reaches her. ‘I was going to let you finish my gelato!’ She pouts, waving the cone.
‘The one you gave a blow job?’
‘Anika!’
‘Fine! Gimme!’
The two argue happily in circles, so I walk away and let them settle, how sisters do. But it’s funny, I’m just as content watching Magdalen happy across the street with Anika as I am when it’s me making her smile. It reminds me of what Dr Savoy was on about that morning at the museum – how it doesn’t feel like you’re sacrificing anything when you make the woman you love smile. I completely fucking get it.
The ogling men at the next table nod at me as I pass them.
‘Fuck off,’ I say, and one of them jerks his head up but doesn’t do anything. How unsurprising.
I continue down the alleyways of Alassio, the faint yellow glow of a few streetlights illuminating the pathway. When I look up, I see an old couple sitting on their balcony, sipping out of teacups. One of them notices me and waves with a polite smile. The iron railing is lined with fresh tulips and there are too many terracotta pots scattered around the small opening for it to be safe. Life’s small pleasures – flowers and fresh basil. The loud noise of tourists has tapered to quiet conversations between locals and even in the dark night I can see the old man’s hand wrapped around his wife’s, holding her palm in his lap. Her cardigan is wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she leans into his warmth and in the shadowy night, they almost look like they’re connected to one another.
I sit down on the concrete steps in front of the old couple’s flat and wait for Magdalen. When I’m left alone, my mind immediately flashes to the night in her room under the same moonlight as now, watching her body respond to me. My knee bounces anxiously and I fumble for a cigarette. I’m not used to this. These periods of raging desire for someone. It feels insane to be in a constant state of need for one person.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’
A pair of sandals with shells glued along the thick strap stand in front of me. Jesus, I know her even by her toes.
‘Trying to remember how to be a gentleman.’ I exhale and look up at her.
‘Fun and flirty, remember?’ Magdalen bends down so she’s squatting in between my legs, holding onto my knees for support. I stop fidgeting.
‘No need for gentleman-approved behaviour. I’m a cool girl.’ She shrugs.
‘Oh really?’ I say, testing out her pseudo bravery when it comes to talking about anything involving sex. Let’s see how much she can take.
‘Try me. What are you really thinking about?’ She holds my gaze, humour deep in her smile. She thinks I’m bluffing. I weigh the odds of me going to hell and conclude that I’ve already dug my way down at this point. How much more fun would it be if she’s down there with me?
‘I want to taste you again, sweet girl.’
Magdalen doesn’t flinch, but it’s as if I can see the wires in her brain crossing, trying to understand what I mean. She opens her mouth and closes it again.
‘You don’t mean—’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘How chivalrous.’ Her long hair brushes against my knee and I reach out to run my hands through the auburn strands.
‘I assure you; this is completely selfish.’
‘Should we do it here?’
I have to stare at her for a second before bursting out in laughter, completely taken aback. ‘Yes, Magdalen, please let me go down on you so the nice elderly couple can watch.’
‘What? Maybe they’ll throw money if we do it well enough.’ She joins me in laughing joyously, her eyes closed shut as she snorts and giggles. Magdalen tries to cover her mouth with her hand to silence herself, but I wrap my fingers around her wrist to pull her down to where I sit.
‘I lied before. You have an incredible laugh,’ I whisper when we’ve both calmed down enough, our breathing still fast with unspent laughter.
‘Mhm.’ She leans forward so that her nose brushes softly against mine. ‘I know.’
I scoff. ‘That’s when you’re supposed to tell me I have a great laugh, too.’
She stays close to my face, nuzzling me in slow and delicious motions, eyelashes fluttering against my forehead, down the bridge of my nose, my cheeks.
‘But I’m not a liar,’ she says and plants a soft kiss on my cheekbone, lips still cool and sugary from the gelato. I lean my head back and smile lazily and then dip my head to kiss her. Her lips part, licking her bottom lip. Just as I’m about to press my mouth to hers, I tilt my chin up and bite down playfully on her nose instead.
Magdalen erupts in another fit of laughter and pushes her hands into my shoulders. ‘What was that for?’ she gasps.
‘For insulting my laugh,’ I muse. ‘I am very offended.’
‘You just bit a chunk of my nose off!’
‘You’re pretty enough to go nose-less. No one will even notice.’
‘I’ll be the laughingstock of Chivasso!’ she says, smiling and standing up, holding her hand to her nose. I stand up too and begin stalking towards her with my teeth bared.
‘You know I’d kill anyone who laughs at you,’ I snarl, and Magdalen shrieks giddily and begins to walk backwards away from me.
‘Theo,’ she warns, and I continue my pursuit, crouching low as I track her steps. And then I launch at her. She yelps and runs down the alleyway lined with bars, sandals smacking loudly against the cobblestone street, and people watch curiously, sipping their spritzes as Magdalen dashes past them.
‘Come here, phantasma ,’ I yell, and chase her through the streets, laughing happily. ‘You know I’m always going to catch you.’