Chapter 19
After marking our territory on every street corner and down each dark alley, we finally stumble upon a convenience store.
We tumble inside, braving the harsh fluorescent lighting to do our part in practicing safe sex.
My head is floating feet above my body—this time it’s real.
This time I’m going to go through with it.
Most importantly, I want to go through with it.
I grab Wes’s hand, letting him lead me through the store.
As we walk, he massages my inner palm with his thumb.
Even that touch sends warmth to my belly.
I follow Wes down one aisle, then the next, admiring how his shirt hangs loose on his athletic frame, until he finds the section he’s looking for.
I hang back, mortified, as Wes stands in front of the condom display with his hands on his hips, studying the selection.
How many times has he done this before? A handful?
Hundreds? I settle on somewhere in the middle, based on how comfortable he seems. Once he’s selected a box that must meet his expectations, he tosses it to me.
“See if you can make sense of that marketing,” he jokes, before looping his arm around my waist and kissing me again, a long, lingering kiss right in the middle of the aisle that turns my insides to molten lava.
Once we come up for air, I scrutinize the condom box in my hand.
I scrunch my face, turning the box to attempt a translation of the Italian phrases.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think to brush up on sexual terminology during my brief stint with Duolingo so I’m at a complete and utter loss.
But from the very animated cartoon face on the front, the contents inside can only result in satisfied customers.
“Seems like five stars,” I say before I toss the box back, hoping he doesn’t pick up on my naivety from the color in my cheeks.
There’s only one problem. I’m not well practiced in throwing condom boxes, and it is much lighter than I expect. I watch the box soar over Wes’s head. It ricochets against the floor, before sliding like a hockey puck across ice, until it screeches to a halt right in front of two girls in the aisle.
Two very familiar girls.
Anya and Mari glance from me, then to Wes, and then to the box of condoms that just made the loudest sound in the quietest convenience store in all of Italy.