Chapter 7 #4
The girls are still a little further away, dancing.
Love that for them.
I, on the other hand, feel like a grandfather.
I am done. Logged out. I lift my head with whatever strength I have left. Just to see… Gio.
No, no, no.
Oh my God.
I thought about him so much my brain actually dragged him into reality.
He is here. In front of me. Sitting on a stone ledge. And he is real. He is everywhere. He is literally haunting me.
I am going to cry. What is he even doing here?
He did not tell me he is coming. Then again, why would he?
It is not like we talked since the rooftop. My stupid heart starts beating faster the second it registers him. Instantly. Fucking excitement. It is going to kill me.
I bring my hands up, pressing my fingers against my temples like I am trying to hold my head in place, keep it from falling off my neck.
I am probably staring. No, not probably, I am staring. Like I am hypnotized. But I do not think he sees me. He is busy with that dumb drink he is holding, swirling it around and around.
A voice breaks the trance.
"You are staring like you want to kill him. Or kiss him."
I turn, startled.
The voice belongs to a boy sitting at the table in front of me. Maybe my age. Dark hair, soft eyes, a silver earring that catches the last of the sun.
He leans back in his chair, smiling. "You good?" he asks.
I do not answer. I just look back toward Gio. Still there.
Still not looking at me.
I grab the wine glass in front of me and take a long sip. It burns now. It does not taste sweet anymore.
The boy from the other table gets up.
Walks around. Sits in the empty chair beside me.
"Okay, that was dramatic," he says.
I do not look at him. I keep staring at Gio. Everything else fades. The music, the dancing, the laughter.
Just him. Standing in the distance.
And me. Still so far behind him I can barely breathe.
The guy tilts his head, lazily swirling his wine. "You are really not okay, huh?"
I exhale through my nose. "That obvious?"
He smirks. "You are still staring at him."
That makes me laugh, kind of. "Yeah," I say.
"That is probably something I am not even allowed to do."
He leans in just slightly. "So who is he?"
I stare at my wine. Take another sip. Do not wince this time.
"Gio," I say, like the name itself carries weight. Because it does. For me. "His name is Gio."
The guy nods.
"I used to hate him," I say. "Like, really hate him. He is loud and reckless. Got under my skin like nobody else. Made fun of me constantly. Called me names." I pause.
I look up, hazy eyed. "But now I cannot stop thinking about him."
The guy raises an eyebrow. "Sounds like the classic enemies to lovers slow burn."
I point at him dramatically.
"Exactly. But like… in real life. And it is not fun. It is fucking painful. Because I cannot do anything."
"Why not?"
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Because my father would literally kill him. Or me. Or both. He already hates his guts. He even slapped me because he found out about our kiss. Gio does not know though."
"Damn," he says, still calm, but amused. "This is juicier than anything my friends are talking about right now."
I drop my head into my hand.
"I am so screwed, man," I mutter.
He grins. "So what is the story, huh? You in love with him or just want a piece of that?"
I finally turn to him, blink hard, then lean forward and gently grab the collar of his shirt.
"I am ruined for him, man," I shout over the loud music. "Like, actually brain-damaged."
He laughs, but I am not kidding. Not even a little.
"I thought I was straight," I say. "Swear to God. I was living a calm, hetero life. Then Gio walked back into my life with those shoulders, and I started fantasizing about stuff like resting my legs on them."
The guy chokes on his drink, laughing.
"Oh, shit! Damn. I like you already."
"Yeah," I nod. "He could even tell me to drop to my knees and I would not even ask why. I would just do it. I would not even care if he left me there."
"You are gone, man," he says, laughing under his breath.
I turn to him, desperate.
I grab his shoulders, not rough, but not gentle either, and pull him a little closer, like I need him to feel this. "I am serious," I slur, my forehead almost touching his.
"Listen to me, random guy!"
He raises his hands like okay, okay, but he is still grinning. I squeeze his shoulders a little tighter.
"Normally I am all about doing the right thing.
But if Gio asks me to hide a body, I am already digging.
He could literally ruin my life. Like, fully wreck it.
Burn everything down, walk out without looking back, and I would still probably defend him.
I would be like, well, he is just misunderstood, officer.
Look at his face, how could you stay mad at that face? "
I drop my hand, slump back in my chair.
He stares. "Jesus. So that is the case, huh? I guess you are not so… straight after all?!"
"Fuck being straight, man. Listen. I caught a glimpse of his V-line one day. When his shirt lifted, and I genuinely thought I saw God." I pause. "I am so helpless."
Silence. The guy blinks, stunned.
Then lets out a long exhale, and starts laughing.
"Well, holy shit."
I nod solemnly, eyes back on Gio. "Yeah," I whisper. "Holy shit is exactly where I am at."
He looks over at Gio again, then back at me, raising his glass.
"Cheers to terrible decisions and Gio, I guess." He clinks it lightly against mine.
I barely have the strength to smile. I down the last of the wine. "Also I am drunk," I add. "But like very eloquently drunk."
"You are beautifully wasted," he says, still grinning.
"Thank you," I say, deadly serious. "That means a lot."
I see Gio getting up.
Wait. Hold on. That is not in the script.
I turn to the guy next to me. "Why is he coming over here?"
He does not answer. He just shrugs and laughs like this is the funniest thing he ever sees.
Did he realize I am talking about him?
Did I say his name out loud? I do not even remember.
I ask again with my eyes. The guy just does the same shrug.
Useless. Random people. What did I expect.
Gio keeps walking closer and… I don’t know.
He does not look like the usual Gio. He looks a little… colder. Then he speaks.
Not to me. To the guy next to me.
"Lorenzo," he says. "We are heading out. You coming?"
Lorenzo. LORENZO.
I turn. Stare at the boy next to me. He is sipping wine, casual as ever. He turns to me. Smiles.
I want to die. "You are—"
"Cousin," Gio says flatly. "Didn’t he mention that?"
I turn fully now. Look at Lorenzo.
He raises both hands in mock innocence, grinning. "Oops."
Fuck me. I just told Gio’s cousin, the man’s actual family, how badly I want to climb him like a tree.
How obsessed I am.
How down bad I am for him.
I cannot believe this.
I actually want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
Right here, right now. No funeral, no goodbyes. I seriously embarrassed myself like that.
Why. Why. Why.
Why me.
Why tonight.
Why did I choose that guy to overshare to.
Why did I speak to a stranger at all.
Every time I try to be social, the universe punishes me. I bury my face in my hands. I can feel my ears burning. Next time I think about opening my mouth in public, someone please just pour the wine over my head and reboot me.
I look between them, Gio, Lorenzo, Gio again.
My mouth is dry. My brain is melting. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but Gio beats me to it.
His voice cuts clean. "Nice to see you are having fun, Rava."
And that is it.
No greeting. No grin. No teasing smirk. Nothing.
What the hell?
What happened now?
What did I do this time?
Why does everyone react like this?
Like something flips in their head and suddenly I am ice they are not allowed to touch?
Is it me?
Did I say something wrong yesterday?
Did I not say enough?
Did I hug him for too long?
Did I not hug him enough?
He does not even look at me. Does not nudge my shoulder like he usually does. Just nothing. I would rather he yelled at me.
I would rather we fight right here, in front of everyone, than feel this weird cold wall between us.
I am actually angry now.
Why is it so easy for people to shut down instead of just telling me what is wrong?
If you are mad, just say you are fucking mad! If you regret the kiss, say you regret it. If you do not want me around, just fucking say it.
Do not freeze me out and act like I do not exist.
It makes me feel pathetic, standing here waiting for a glance that does not come.
I bite the inside of my cheek and look away, like I do not care. Lorenzo stands up, adjusts his shirt, and looks down at me. "Well. This was fun." He smiles again. "Lovely to meet you, Rava."
And then he is gone too. I sit there. My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear the music anymore.
I have never felt so exposed. So stupid. So fucking small.
40) Terrified
Gio
I swear this bike used to go faster.
There's no way this is the limit. I want more. I need more, fuck. The whole tunnel fills up with the sound of our engines.
It's like riding inside a thunderstorm. Lorenzo's right next to me, trying so hard to overtake me.
Son of a bitch. He's good. But I'm better.
He's even doing tricks with the bike. I lean forward more and push it. Test my limits again. We weave in and out, zigzagging around each other, playing this stupid game of who's going to die first.
He edges closer. I edge closer.
One bad move and we're both on the floor, but that's the point, isn't it? I live for this. For the speed, for the risk.
If this is the limit, I'm going to break it.
Red lights. Yellow lights. Who cares. I'm gone before they decide. If a cop shows up, great. Maybe he'll give me something easier to deal with than whatever the fuck is happening in my head right now.
The wind slaps my face. My eyes sting.
Must be the air. Definitely not almost-tears. I wish I could ride far enough for the rooftop to stop replaying.