Chapter 5
FIVE
It’s Saturday morning, and since I was let go from the Bread and Bagel café, I find myself with some free time before I have to go to the bar tonight. It bothers me that I haven’t had much time for Chiara the last few months due to my busy schedule, so I plan to change that today.
As I prepare scrambled eggs with toast for breakfast, my little sister walks into the kitchen and takes a seat.
“Buongiorno,” I say with a smile, and quickly make a plate of food to place in front of her, then pour a glass of water for her too. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock.”
I chuckle, making myself a plate. “So, same as always. Do you have a lot of homework for the weekend?”
She shakes her head, replying with her mouth full, “Nope, already finished everything.”
“Brava, that’s perfect,” I say, sitting down in front of her. “Because I’m free today until I have to go to the bar, so do you want to go to the mall? We can grab some bubble tea and stroll through the bookshop you love so much,” I ask, already excited for my first sort of day off in weeks.
She furrows her eyebrows, her mouth turning down. Not the reaction I was looking for at all. “Do I have to? I promised Monica that we would spend the weekend together, and I’m going to sleep over at her place tonight.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. “No, of course, you don’t have to. I just thought it would be nice to do something together since we haven’t in a while.” I try to sound understanding, even though her words stung.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t put the blame on me. You’re the one who’s always working.”
I bite my lip, trying to hold back anything I might regret later.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “You’re right.
I’m sorry. Starting on Monday, I’ll be doing an internship at the NYPD.
I’ll see how the hours go, and maybe we can spend more time together in the future.
I promise I’ll ask you in advance instead of springing it on you last minute. ”
Chiara beams at me. “At the NYPD? That’s what you’ve always dreamed of.”
I smile at her. “Yes, it is.”
Her happiness for me melts away any frustration I just had. I know her occasional attitude is just a phase. Deep down, she’s still my sweet little sister.
“I’m so happy for you,” she says, and I reach out, squeezing her hand.
Shortly after we finish eating, Chiara gets ready and leaves. Feeling lost over what to do next, I deep-clean the apartment before taking a nap.
I somehow wake up just in time to get ready for my shift at the bar. When I arrive, Cindy doesn’t even make an effort to help, so I find myself rushing around, trying to handle everything on my own as usual.
Around midnight, I’m desperate for a break, so I ask her to watch the front while I retreat into the kitchen. Leaning against the wall next to the door, I take a deep breath and briefly close my eyes.
Lennard is leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. He asks, “Tough night?”
I nod, feeling the exhaustion weighing me down. “Just need a minute. Can I have some ice cubes?”
He chuckles. “Don’t you have them out front?”
“Yeah, but they’re out front.”
Matteo joins in with a snicker and walks over to the freezer, grabbing a bowl filled with ice cubes and offering them to me. “Here you go, carina,” he says affectionately.
I take one, placing it in my mouth, enjoying the relief as the ice melts on my overheated tongue. There’s nothing quite like the sensation of coolness when you’re exhausted. I close my eyes again and groan, feeling the weariness settling in.
When I reopen my eyes, I notice Matteo watching me with hooded eyes. It makes me take a slight step back. “Thanks,” I say, my voice slightly muffled by the ice cube still in my mouth.
Matteo has asked me out before, but I dismissed him, thinking it was some kind of joke, like the ones they used to play on me in high school.
So, I told him I don’t date. He seemed to accept it easily, but I have noticed he often looks at me in a particular way.
Cindy has noticed it too, and told me I should go out with him to get that whole virginity thing over with.
She said the first time was bad anyway, and it didn’t matter who it was with. At least I wouldn’t die a virgin.
But something about Matteo unsettles me. He isn’t unattractive, even though he is at least fifteen years older than me and not much taller. You can clearly see his Italian heritage in his tanned complexion, shoulder-length black hair, and deep brown eyes.
But his intense gaze always makes me uncomfortable, and the thought of being intimate with him sends shivers down my spine, and they are not good ones.
Let’s see if I say the same when I am still a virgin in ten years.
Maybe I’ll crawl back to him then.
Lennard draws me out of my thoughts with a playful grin and the remark, “Your heart is made of stone. You’re a cold bitch, Carolina. I think you can manage a few more dumb customers tonight.”
He might be joking, but something in his teasing resonates deep down. Too exhausted to formulate a response, I don’t respond. Instead, I just head back out to the bar to finish my shift.
Utterly exhausted, I lay in bed, hugging a pillow tightly to my side, but sleep will not come.
Frustrated, I sigh and turn onto my back, releasing the pillow and stretching out like a starfish.
It’s supposed to be a luxury to have the bed all to myself, but whenever Chiara stays over at Monica’s, I feel an even deeper sense of loneliness than usual.
It’s times like these that I miss my parents the most.
How could they have left me alone in all of this?
But it’s not only my parents I miss. There’s someone else missing from my life.
Someone who cares about me, someone to share the burden with, someone who I can truly be myself with.
Howie and Chiara are the only people I let my guard down around.
But both of them rely on me. Is it so wrong to want someone I can lean on as well, just for once?
How can you miss someone you’ve never met?
Lennard’s words from earlier in the night echo in my mind.
The cold-hearted facade I show the world has become my shield, my way of coping with the constant challenges life throws my way.
It’s the mask I crafted during my high school years, a survival mechanism that helped me navigate through the chaotic mess that was my life.
Being bullied at school just to come home to be abused and bullied some more—I wouldn’t have survived that shit show if I hadn’t hardened myself to a point where everyone thinks I’m a cold-hearted bitch, not giving a fuck about anyone around me.
He said I have a heart of stone, but if I do, it’s a brittle one, already falling apart. Yet, there is no one around to help me pick up the pieces.
Silent tears stream down my face. It’s the closest thing to crying I can do anymore.
Maybe I’m becoming as numb as I pretend to be.
I’m not there yet. The pain is still too strong, too noticeable. But I can sense my true self slowly slipping away.
I whisper into the darkness, “Only two more years.”
The question that remains is whether or not there will be anything left of me by then.