CHAPTER 36 – ANTONIO

I’m reorganizing my bookshelf from alphabetical order to genres. I know I’ll put it all back by tomorrow, like I always do, but arranging my books soothes me.

I don’t need Freud to tell me I’m trying to create order in the outside world because my inner life is overwhelming. I’m trying so hard not to spiral, but—he hasn’t texted. Maybe he won’t? Maybe he changed his mind.

I take out one of my favorite books and inhale its comforting scent.

A Little History of the World — my first real history book. Nonno gave it to me when I was ten. The spine is cracked, the pages well-loved, and I know every sentence by heart. Holding the book helps me to calm down.

Caspian will text. Besides, it’s only been two hours. He said he’d ask me out ‘soon’. Maybe he didn’t mean right away or even today. Maybe for him, ‘soon’ means within this calendar year.

I should’ve demanded an ETA.

I should’ve asked if ghosting me was the plan all along.

Why can’t Maria be home?

She would tell me immediately if I’m reasonable or not.

Fine. I’ll read my quote book for peaceful self-reflection.

I open it to a random page. Oscar Wilde is advocating self-love.

Been there, done me.

The next few quotes fail to inspire me.

Then Aristotle appears with this gem: “Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.”

I look around for the fruit.

Nothing.

All I see is a lonely, hopeless future—

My phone buzzes.

Excitement soars from the toes to the top of my head. My sweet fruit is here!

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Testing if this is really you. –Caspian Stone

My heart thunders as I stare at the message. He signed it with his whole name. Who does that? I’m unwell. I save the number and breathe.

ANTONIO

it’s really me

ANTONIO

(antonio di scotti)

ANTONIO

from cove bay

I launch myself onto my bed, bury my face in the pillow, and let out a sound that should not be humanly possible. My phone buzzes.

CASPIAN

Are you trying to imply that including my whole name was redundant?

I laugh.

ANTONIO

just wanted to make sure you don’t confuse me with another antonio from another town

CASPIAN

No risk of that happening. There’s only one Antonio in my life.

I stop breathing. He keeps going.

CASPIAN

Anyway, I’m happy for the confirmation. Getting your number felt almost too good to be true. Like a hallucination. :)

I make another inhuman noise. If he always texts like this, I won’t live for long. My heart can’t take it. And that old-fashioned smiley? Too adorable.

ANTONIO

well it wasn’t a hallucination

CASPIAN

I’m relieved. Otherwise I’d be smiling like an idiot for no reason.

I groan into the pillow.

ANTONIO

you sound like a man who should write with a fountain pen

ANTONIO

no, you sound like a man who OWNS a fountain pen

I watch the dots as he writes, smiling so widely my cheeks hurt.

CASPIAN

I do own a fountain pen. I can send you a picture of my inkwell.

I flip onto my back, heart racing. Caspian has an inkwell.

CASPIAN

Please note that ‘inkwell’ was not a euphemism.

I snort.

ANTONIO

it was just an observation anyway, no need for ink pics

CASPIAN

Duly noted.

I don’t reply because I can see he’s still writing.

CASPIAN

Here’s another observation. I think you’re very pretty.

My toes curl so hard they almost fall off due to emotional damage. I scream into the pillow again.

ANTONIO

Um. Absolutely not.

CASPIAN

Interesting response.

ANTONIO

I reject compliments on principle.

CASPIAN

That’s okay. I’ll stand by it anyway.

My face is on fire.

CASPIAN

Are you free this Friday? For our date.

I fling my phone onto the bed like it’s a live grenade. Then immediately grab it back.

ANTONIO

I’ll check my calendar and let you know. :)

I stare in horror at the smiley face that slipped in by my traitorous thumbs.

ANTONIO

THAT SMILEY FACE WAS AN ACCIDENT

ANTONIO

YOU CORRUPTED ME BY USING IT FIRST

CASPIAN

That’s what I do. I use fountain pens and corrupt young minds with smileys.

ANTONIO

dangerous man

CASPIAN

Only in emoticons. If you find a slot in your calendar, let me know. I’ll be right here, smiling my idiotic smile.

I press the phone to my chest, staring at the ceiling. There are two of us, smiling like idiots.

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