2） Gay Panic
Rava
I haven’t even walked in properly and the door is already wide open for me.
My personal life has been screaming in agony ever since I got into my dad’s car. I should’ve taken a fucking taxi.
The whole ride here feels like I’m on trial for murder, trying to convince everyone I didn’t kill anybody…while my hands are still covered in blood. Except in my case, the "blood" is hickeys all over my neck.
And the DNA is Gio’s, spread all over me and still inside me.
"Damn. Look who’s back," Jin says, leaning against the staircase. "Didn’t get deported, huh?" Daisy calls from the living room, legs up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her lap.
I drop my bag by the door. "Wow. Missed the warmth."
"Missed your whining," she fires back, popping a kernel into her mouth. "Your hair’s a mess. Spain’s humid?"
"Orgasms will do that to you," Jin mutters, and I flip him off without even turning.
My heart’s beating too fast. I feel fine physically, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to die from anxiety. I know he doesn’t actually know anything. He’s just talking shit like always.
But now, after everything, I’m going to be suspicious of everyone and everything.
Every comment. Every look. Every joke. It all feels like a trap waiting to catch Gio’s name written all over my face.
Daisy arches a brow at me. "Well, your hair survived, at least. Mine didn’t. The blue’s gone."
I glance at her. "Yeah, noticed. Shame. You looked like a depressed Smurf. It suited you." She throws popcorn at me.
I catch a piece and eat it just to piss her off. I make my way up the stairs, their laughter trailing behind me. Room’s the same. Bed untouched. Window cracked open slightly. I open my bag, drop my charger on the desk, and don’t bother unpacking anything else.
Shower.
I step into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Clothes come off slowly, and the second I’m naked, I feel that weird rush of relief again. This room is even more of a hiding place now than it ever was.
In here, I’m 100% myself. No pretending. When I look at my body in the mirror, the first thing that hits me is… yeah.
Sex.
With Gio.
I had sex with Gio.
I still can’t believe it. The anxiety kicks in. Secrets eat me alive. I feel like one day I’m going to slip at the dinner table like an idiot.
"Yes, mom, the food’s great, also Gio fucked me, can you pass the bread?"
I groan into my hands. I don’t trust my own mouth. I’m a liability. But then I smile. Alone. Because it happened. Because I want it again. I look closer in the mirror. Yeah, he definitely left proof. My neck is a disaster. Hickeys everywhere.
Gio has never understood the concept of subtlety in his entire life. They look even worse under the bathroom light. It looks like he tried to sign his name on me with his mouth.
Why not just tattoo his initials on my throat while we’re at it. I had to wear that stupid neck pillow in the car. That ugly grey travel thing dad keeps for long trips.
I shoved it on, looking like I was seventy years old with spine issues. Just so he wouldn’t turn around, see my neck, and straight-up faint behind the damn wheel.
I’m such a good person. I am SO considerate. Thinking of everyone’s safety and emotional stability. I run my fingers over one mark and my face heats up. Because I remember exactly how he made it.
It’s insane how much that memory hits. I cannot walk out there like this. I step out of the shower. I lean down and grab Daisy’s makeup bag from under the sink. It’s overflowing with little bottles and sponges and creams that all look the same to me.
Please, let this stuff work on my skin too. Not just hers. I grab the first thing that looks normal, a liquid foundation.
I dab a bit on my finger and tap it over one of the marks. It instantly makes it look worse.
Not a little worse. Violently worse. The purple becomes this muddy, sickly brown. Fuck. I try another product, a dusty one. Now the hickey is beige. Beige and purple.
I look diseased. I stare at myself, horrified.
How does Daisy do this every morning without crying?! I’m two minutes away from giving up and just wearing a scarf inside the house. I grab another random bottle.
BB cream. What the fuck is a BB cream?
Why is it BB?? Where’s AA?? CC??
Why are there letters? Let’s see.
A tiny green tube. Color Corrector. I squint at it.
Green. Green cancels out red and purple… right? Or was that something about the color wheel?
God, school was useless.
I dab the tiniest bit on my neck. Blend with my finger.
Oh.
OH.
The purple disappears. I grab more, working carefully, trying not to overdo it. Slowly, the marks start fading like magic. I brush a little foundation on top, this time carefully, not like a wild animal. My neck starts looking normal again.
I did it. I actually fixed it. This is it.
I throw on an old t-shirt and sweats, and head downstairs. Jin’s already at the table, digging into a bowl of rice like he hasn’t eaten since I left.
Daisy’s on her phone, half-watching a show. I sit down. Fork in hand. But everything tastes like cardboard. Because Gio’s not here. Because Gio’s close, but still so far away. And I miss him like I’ve been gone a year.
The rice is too hot. The room is too loud.
We’re all around the table now. "So," my dad says, knife tapping against his plate. "How really was Spain?"
I swallow. "It was… fine," I say.
Fine.
It was Gio’s hand between my thighs under the hotel sheets. It was Gio whispering "let me take care of you" before pushing inside me. It was his hands around my throat.
"Fine?" Daisy echoes. "That’s it?"
"It was work, what did you expect?" I mumble. Jin leans in. "Was Gio there the whole time?"
Yes. In my bed. In my mouth. In my head. In my body.
"Yeah," I say casually. "He and Lorenzo ran most of the meetings."
Daisy smirks. "He’s such a dick. Right, Rava?"
I shrug. "Yeah. He’s… intense." My mom smiles, cutting her food. "But brilliant. He always impressed me."
He makes me forget my name. He calls me beautiful. "Yeah," I say. "He’s sharp."
Jin snickers.
"Sharp and hot. That tattoo, though…" he whistles. Daisy chimes in, dramatic: "Ugh, that one right on top of his…yeah? Yeah. Real subtle, Mr. Bad Boy."
I nearly choke on my drink.
I licked it. I kissed it while I was on my knees.
"Gross," I mutter, forcing a frown. "Trashy."
Daisy side-eyes me. This bitch. Mom tilts her head. "Did you get along with him this time?"
I came for him. With him. All over him.
"Yeah," I say flatly. "We were… professional." Dad watches me for a beat too long. I can feel it. That stare that cuts straight through me.
Jin squints. "What’s that on your neck?" I freeze. My fork clinks against the plate. "What?"
"That—" he points. "Right there. Looks like a bruise." I don’t believe this. He left one where I can’t even SEE it unless I tilt my head like a flamingo.
A place I don’t remember him touching. A place I definitely didn’t cover. Daisy leans in. "Oh my god, is that a hickey?"
That’s it. It’s over.
They’re gonna lock me in my room until I’m forty.
"It’s nothing."
"Looks like someone did have fun in Spain," she sings.
Well. Yes. And then again. And again. And again until my legs shook.
Dad clears his throat. "Well?"
Fuck. I can’t say a guy. They don’t know. I didn’t even know. So I lie.
"I… it was a random girl," I say quietly. "We went out one night. It was stupid."
The silence at the table is filled with amusement.
It hurts. To say it. To take Gio and shove him into the dark. Mom raises her eyebrows, but she’s smiling. "Didn’t expect that from you." Neither would he.
Jin starts clapping. "My boy! Finally got some."
Daisy groans. "That poor girl."
I nod, laugh like I’m in on the joke. But my chest is burning. Dad finally speaks again. "Just be careful who you’re seen with. You’re still a Weston. Don’t get involved with the wrong people."
Too late. He’s everything you hate.
I don’t say anything. I just keep chewing. Swallowing lies. While every part of me screams:
Gio. Gio. Gio.
Dad stands up from the table, smooths down his shirt. "We have that meeting tomorrow morning. Be ready."
I nod. Not that I could say anything else without starting another lecture, or risking getting slapped again. I take my plate to the sink, rinse it under cold water, then head upstairs, grateful to escape. As I reach my room, I automatically head toward the window, hoping to see Fontana.
He’s outside. Soaked to the fucking bone. He and Lorenzo wash their bikes. Soap and water are erotic tools now.
And obviously, they do it shirtless.
Because apparently, shirts are optional when you’ve got abs and zero shame. I am staring like a loser. Like a fucking fangirl at her little window seat moment. His whole body’s wet. Lorenzo’s laughing, aiming the hose right at him on purpose, so Gio flinches and swears and wipes at his face.
Why is this so hot? Why is soap this hot?
Those dumb butterflies do laps in my chest.
I had sex with that. That wet, reckless, chaos of a man out there? I touched him. I had him moaning into my neck. And now I’m blushing like a little bitch just watching him rinse a Ducati.
SLAM.
"Move over!" Daisy barges in, slamming the door behind her.
"I came to tell you to look out the window but oh my god, you’re already here.
" She’s grinning like a little gremlin. "Make room, I wanna see too.
" She wedges herself next to me and shoves a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. Now we’re both just standing there.
Staring. Silently. Like creeps.
"Okay, this is…this is illegal," Daisy mutters with her mouth full. "How dare Lorenzo look that good just washing a bike. He could sell soap with that jawline alone."
I laugh, still watching Gio like I’m hypnotized. "He’s not even trying," I murmur. We both sigh.
Then glance at each other, and burst out laughing.
"I swear to god," Daisy groans, "I’m gonna do something crazy. Like bring him lemonade. Or a marriage proposal." "Please do the lemonade first."
"I’m gonna win him over, Rava. I’ve made a plan in my head. It starts with a compliment and ends with us making out in the garage."
I snort. "That escalated quickly."
She side-eyes me. "Not as quickly as you and Gio in Spain, apparently."
I freeze.
"Don’t play dumb," she teases. "Something happened. Spill."
My mouth curls into a nervous smile. I try not to look at her, but I can feel the flush rising to my ears. "You’re blushing!" she shrieks, jumping on the bed like a toddler high on sugar. "You never blush. Rava. What the hell happened?! Did you kiss? Did you—?"
I throw a pillow at her. "Shut up."
"YOU TOTALLY DID. Oh my, I actually feel like crying right now. Tell me everything."
I flop down beside her. My heart’s doing jumping jacks, but I let the words slip out. "I don’t know what happened, honestly. I think I might be…bisexual? Maybe. Probably. Definitely. But I’m not telling anyone, especially dad, okay?"
Daisy softens instantly. "Hey. You don’t have to."
"I’m just…I’m not gonna survive it if our parents find out. Especially not if it’s about him. They’d kill me. Literally kill me. Cause it’s Gio. And it’s not like it’s gonna last. I’m going back when summer ends."
She’s quiet for a second. Then she links her pinky with mine. "I don’t care if it lasts a week or a lifetime. If it makes you smile like that, then I’m team Gio until further notice."
I smile. We look back out the window.
Gio picks up a sponge and drags it slowly along the seat of his bike. I swallow hard.
Daisy shoots up like she just got electrocuted. "Okay. You sit here and have a gay panic. I’ve got a mission."
"What are you doing?" I call out as she sprints to the door.
"Lemonade, bitch!" she shouts over her shoulder.
I rush to the window again just in time to see her jogging toward them. She says something to Lorenzo, and he smiles. Daisy practically lights up.
But Gio doesn’t even look at her. His eyes slide past her and land straight on mine. We lock eyes. I should look away. But I don’t. I can’t. He takes his phone out, and starts typing.
My phone buzzes.
GIO:
-Come to my place tonight.
-Tell them you’re out with friends.
-We’re going somewhere, and I want you with me.
-Don’t make me wait, Ravioli.
My entire body goes up in flames. I just sit there and stare at the screen.
He wants me with him.
Out.
We actually got here. Spain isn’t a glitch in my brain, then. It isn’t some holiday fever dream I made up because I’m touch-starved and obsessed. We really did change there.
We came back different, and now it shows in three lines on my phone. And a few hickeys on my neck.
I feel my mouth tug up before I even realize I’m smiling.