Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
“Lina?” Chiara’s soft voice reaches me as she enters our bedroom.
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, my head buried in my hands, contemplating what the hell I’m going to do now.
“Si, piccola, what’s up?” I look up at her, and she looks slightly embarrassed.
“I need a new phone,” she says.
“A new phone?” I furrow my brow at her. “What happened to yours?”
“It has a huge crack on the screen, and I can’t text properly like this,” she states, handing it to me.
Indeed, there’s a big, noticeable crack running through the middle of the screen, although it still functions.
“How did that happen?” I ask.
“I accidentally dropped it.” She shrugs.
Of course. Nonchalantly tossing away a few hundred dollars.
We both have older, secondhand smartphone models, but they’re still our most valuable possessions, besides the laptop I need for college—a luxury I have to work hard for every day.
“I can’t afford to buy you a new one right now. You’ll have to make do with what you have,” I say.
“But I can’t text properly like this, and Leo is waiting for a response. He’ll think I’m not interested anymore if I don’t reply!” she says, agitated.
“Leo? Who’s Leo?” I stare at her critically.
“If you didn’t work all the time and took more interest in my life, you would know that Leo is going to be my boyfriend soon.” She huffs.
Wait a second, boyfriend?
“Oh, is he now? Who is he? A classmate?” I try to sound interested, not panicked, even though my heart rate jumps.
“No, he’s older.” She shrugs again.
I stand, feeling the need to level the playing field. It’s hard enough that she looks down on me when we’re both standing, but I don’t have to give her the advantage while sitting.
“How much older?” I ask, my tone turning icy.
“He’s seventeen, and he’s already working as a mechanic part-time. I can ask him if he can buy me a new phone.”
My blood pressure is rising. “Sei pazza?” I ask her, “We are not going to let men pay for our stuff so they can have leverage over us. If you need something, I’ll provide it for you. You never ask a man for anything, got it?”
She tilts her head, looking annoyed. “But you just said you don’t have the money right now.”
I take out my phone from my pocket and backup our phones before placing them on the bed and swapping our SIM cards. I hand her my phone and take her broken one.
“Here. Now, tell me more about this Leo guy. What do you mean he’s going to be your boyfriend soon?”
She doesn’t respond for a moment because she’s busy setting up her new phone and texting Leo back.
“It means he loves me, and I love him. He’ll soon ask me to be exclusive,” she says matter-of-factly.
I furrow my brow. “Do you even know what that means?”
“Of course, I know, I’m not a damn baby anymore, Lina, and if you actually talked to me, you would know,” she says sharply.
Ouch, that one stung.
“Okay, I see. Do we need to have ‘the talk’ again, or are you all set?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.
She rolls her eyes at me and heads back toward the door. “I’m going to spend the weekend at Monica’s,” she informs me before leaving me alone.
Well, at least I don’t have to do that again.
I imagine having the talk about birds and bees is hard enough as a parent. It’s even tougher as a sister with zero fucking experience of my own, though.
When I was fourteen, I struggled with bad acne, and Mama took me to the gynecologist to get on birth control to help with the breakouts. We had ‘the talk’ then.
The birth control did help, and I still take it for that reason.
At one point, I wanted to stop taking them because they’re an extra expense on my list, and let’s be honest, I don’t need the pills for what they are intended for, but as soon as I stopped, my acne came back with a vengeance.
I’ll gladly work an extra shift each month if it means I don’t have to walk around with a face full of craters.
Then, when Chiara went through the same problems about six months ago, I did what our mother did with me.
I swear, I’m not going to have children. Navigating Chiara through her teenage years is challenging enough. I don’t need to go through all of that again.
I look at my new phone and attempt to tap on it. It still works, but she’s right. I can’t text properly since the letters in the middle of the phone are unresponsive. Looks like I’ll have to stick to making phone calls or sending emojis.
Not that anyone besides Chiara messages me anyway.
A few hours later, I find myself sitting at my laptop, searching the web for a new job again. But either the hours don’t align with my schedule, or the pay is terrible.
“Fuck,” I mutter into the empty room, frustration creeping in.
Suddenly, my phone rings. It’s an unknown number, but I filled out some applications, so I answer, “Hello?”
“Where the fuck are you?” a familiar voice demands.
“Donny?” I furrow my brows.
“The bar is packed like crazy. Get your ass over here, you’re already late for your shift,” he says.
“So, I’m not fired anymore?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“I told you you’re late for your shift,” he replies and hangs up.
Oh Dio.
Thank fuck. A genuine laugh escapes me as I glance up at the ceiling for a moment, taking a deep breath.
I get ready in record time and make my way to the bar. It’s freezing outside, and a shiver runs through me as I close the bar’s back door and hang my jacket in the still-empty locker. Only my apron is there, so I tie it around my waist.
Entering the kitchen, I nod to Lennard and Matteo, who both grin and nod back. I push open the door to the bar and spot Cindy struggling to fill some beer glasses. She’s shaking, causing beer to spill everywhere while Donny reprimands her.
I take the glass out of Cindy’s hand, gently nudging her to the side with my hip, and ask, “Order?”
“Three beers, table six,” Cindy whispers near my ear.
I quickly prepare the beers and place them on a tray, then make my way over to the table with a friendly smile.
I return behind the bar, swiftly wiping the sticky surface with a cloth and rearranging everything back into its proper place.
Cindy has made a mess of everything, but it feels damn good to be back. I still despise this job, but knowing I can pay next month’s rent and cover my other expenses makes the whole fucking ordeal worth it.
Donny walks over to me, lightly tapping the surface of the bar next to me. I glance up at him, and he says, “Don’t be late again tomorrow.” His face carries a stern expression, yet I detect a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I respond, smirking slightly.
He nods and heads into the kitchen.
As soon as Donny is out of sight, Cindy rushes over to me and envelops me in a hug. “God, never leave me alone here again,” she whispers, and when she releases me, I notice tears in her eyes.
I don’t particularly like Cindy, but even I’m not heartless enough to lack sympathy for her when she’s such a mess. “Are you okay?”
“I am now that I have my BFF back.” She pulls me into a quick hug before heading toward a table that requires attention.
Wait, am I tripping? Did she just call me her BFF? And is she actually working the tables right now?