42） Quack
Rava
"Get up, you disgusting gremlins," Gio shouts at them. He leads us straight to the claw machines.
We follow. Obviously. He points at one in the far corner.
"That one. Been eyeing it since we got here." Squints. "This teddy looks like you, Ravioli. Kinda pissed off, but still cute."
"I'm not pissed off."
"No," Daisy chimes in. "He's right. That thing is you, Rava." "Traitor." Gio drops a coin into the slot, cracks his neck like he's about to enter a street fight. "Okay. I got this. Everyone shut the fuck up."
He moves the claw. Adjusts. Backs it up. Re-adjusts while cursing silently. The level of focus on his face is absurd. I'm pretty sure NASA engineers don't look this serious. Tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth. It's… adorable.
He hits the button. The claw dips. For a second, it looks like it's going to miss. But it grips the bear by the leg and lifts it clean off the pile. Daisy gasps. It drops into the chute.
Gio turns to me, all excited. Holding the little angry bear. He hands it to me with both hands. "For you," he says. "It's grumpy and cute. It's definitely you."
I take it. My angel. He's so damn proud of himself. I stare at the bear. Then at him. Then at the bear again. "Thanks," I mumble. "I'm gonna name it Judgy Bastard."
He grins. "I love it." And I don't care how stupid this is. This is already my favorite gift in the world. I look back at the machine.
There's a tiny girl, barely taller than the prize counter. Standing next to Gio. Just staring at him. Her mouth's hanging open. And then she reaches out. Taps his hand. With her little finger. Gio turns to me in shock.
"Rava. Rava. A tiny human just touched me—"
I snort. "Well maybe see what she wants?"
He turns back. Exhales. "Hi there, little one." She gives him a shy smile. "Mister…can you help me win a teddy bear?" She holds up a single coin. Her dad's standing nearby, just smiling. Totally relaxed. Chill.
For once, a decent dad with no complex. No judgment. Gio softens. "Of course I'll help you, sweetheart. Come here, it's actually super easy."
She hands him the coin, but he shakes his head. "Nope. You keep that. This one's on me." He gently guides her to the joystick, crouches behind her like a coach.
"Okay…let’s see. We should probably push it back a little, exactly like this. Now a small push to the left, now just—yep, there. Let it drop! See? That was fast. You're even better than me!"
The claw lowers. And it grabs a fuzzy orange bunny. Lifts. Drops it into the prize slot. She squeals. Practically tackles Gio's legs. Laughing and clutching the bunny.
I turn away. Quick. Head down. Because…God. I'm tearing up. I'm such a loser. I don't know why. It's just—it was sweet. That's all. I blink a few times, pretending I'm fixing my hair or something. That's when I hear Lorenzo behind me.
"Me too, bro, me too."
I groan. "Shut up." Sniff once. Subtle. "Don't ruin it. It was just sweet."
"Sure was." He pats my back. "We love a sensitive king."
I roll my eyes. "Stop talking. The tears will fall." And when I glance back, Gio's crouched again, petting the little girl's head. She hugs him. Her dad gives him a handshake.
Yeah. I might die a little bit. From love. Gio turns to me. "I'm on fire tonight. Don't talk to me." He's rubbing his hands together like a villain. "Give me one minute. I'm feeling lucky."
He jogs over to the next claw machine, one of those trashy little ones with rubber duckies, plastic toys, keychains, literal junk. I raise a brow. "What the hell are you even trying to win—"
"Shhh." He drops in a coin, tongue sticking out again as he lines it up. Presses the button. The claw drops. Lifts something.
"What even is that?" It drops into the chute. Gio reaches in, pulls it out.
What. A tiny duck-shaped capsule. "What the f—"
Opens it. Inside is a plastic ring. With a yellow rubber ducky on it. Like a cursed engagement ring from a bathtub-themed nightmare.
Marco explodes with laughter behind us. Lorenzo gasps. "YOU PLANNED THIS, YOU LITTLE SHIT."
Gio's doubled over. He takes a dramatic breath. Wipes his fake tear. Turns to me with a mock-serious expression.
Drops to one knee.
"Rava, baby." He says it in that mocking, flirtatious tone. "From the moment you threatened to call the cops on me for staring too much, I knew you were the one. I couldn't wait any longer. I couldn't let time steal us away. Not another moment."
He holds up the duck ring between two fingers like it's a Tiffany diamond. He's trying not to laugh.
"Accept this 1€ ring, Rava Weston. Not asking. Just take it. Be a Fontana for one night." He's grinning. The others are crying from laughter. I black out a little.
My face is on fire. Like I can feel it glowing red.
Somehow my hands are shaking even though I know it's a joke. Obviously. But something about him kneeling there, goofy as hell, with his crooked smile and eyes only on me and calling ME a Fontana… I swear my heart does a somersault.
He takes my hand. Slides the ridiculous duck ring onto my finger. It's too small. He forces it past my knuckle. I blink down at it. A yellow duck. Just staring at me like "quack, bitch, you're a fake Fontana now."
I exhale. And try to laugh it off. But Gio's looking up at me. He hasn't stopped smiling. And it's funny. It's stupid. But also weirdly satisfying. Lorenzo gives Gio a playful shove in the back.
"Wow. My cousin really just proposed with a duck ring. You are so ghetto." Gio's still kneeling while still holding my hand, proud of himself. He just shrugs. "You say ghetto, I say cute."
Marco casually steps between them. He slings an arm around Gio's shoulder. "Let's not disrespect the emotional gravity of this moment," he says. His voice suddenly sounds like he's in court. Everyone goes quiet. Marco straightens his back, about to deliver a closing statement.
"As a certified attorney in three jurisdictions—"
Lorenzo cuts in. "You're not." Marco ignores him. "I hereby state that this duck ring represents a legally binding emotional contract, under Article 47 of Public Displays of Devotion."
I squint at him. "What the hell is Article 47?" Marco doesn't miss a beat. "The 'Shit That Makes You Go Aww' clause. Look it up."
Lorenzo groans. "Gio is unwell." Marco points at him. "Gio is romantic." Then he turns to me, places a solemn hand on my shoulder. "You two are now spiritually married in my heart. May the duck bless your union." Gio nods, serious all of a sudden.
"Thank you, Tree Guy. You're officially my lawyer. I might actually need you soon." Marco smirks. "My fee is one lemon pie per emotional breakdown."
Gio says, "Perfect. You'll be rich by the end of the week." I look down at the stupid little duck on my finger. I'm never taking this off. I don't care if it turns my finger green. I don't care if Gio forgets our fake anniversary and never mentions it again.
I don't care if I have to walk into a job interview one day and the recruiter asks, "Sir, is that a duck?"
Yes, bitch. It is. And it's love. I'm not taking it off if we fight.
I'm not taking it off if we move to different countries.
Hell, I'm not even taking it off if I lose the actual finger.
I'll glue the ring to my damn stump. This duck is staying with me.
Because Gio gave it to me, and it means absolutely everything.
…
Hours have passed. We're all barely hanging on… on this wobbly ass wooden bench. Lorenzo's absolutely gone. He's holding a half-empty wine cup with his legs stretched out, talking to the stars. "I miss Noah…" he sighs dramatically. "That bitch… his stupid face…"
I'm leaning on Gio's shoulder. My head's right where it belongs. I can hear his heart beating if I stay still enough. His bag's stuffed to the brim with all the plushies he won for me. He looks like a six-year-old crime boss.
I smile into his shirt. "Hey, Lorenzo," I mumble. "When I come back, whenever that is, I'll try to bring Noah. He's got no one in Canada. He's like me."
Marco perks up. He and Lorenzo had been drinking beer and wine like it was water. His eyes are soft and blurry. "Wait…guys, is this Noah guy…fruity?"
All of us turn. Daisy's whole body jolts. "YES. YES HE IS. RAVA. brING HIM TO ITALY. PERMANENTLY. PLEASE."
I blink, laughing. "Okay okay. Jesus. I'll try. He'd actually kill it here. And the tattoo studios wouldn't know what hit them."
CRACK. The bench dies. We all hit the ground.
I think my soul left my body for a second. "My ass!" Daisy cries. Marco groans. "That's it. I'm filing for worker's comp. My ass is gone." And then Gio and Lorenzo start laughing.
Loudly. Same time, same pitch. It's almost like they're family. I look at Gio, who's wiping tears from his eyes. He points at me. "Look what your fat ass did. Whole bench gone. Total collapse."
I gasp. "I'm suffering from success." Suddenly, "Sara Perche Ti Amo" starts blasting from the speakers across the place.
It's exactly like the last time. Lorenzo shoots upright.
"STAND UP NOW MOTHERFUCKERS. WE'RE NOT MISSING THIS." We all stare at him. He points a dramatic finger toward the speakers. His eyes have gone wide.
"THIS IS TRADITION. THIS IS CULTURE. THIS IS THE ITALIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM!"
Daisy's still holding her ass. "…I kinda agree."
"EVERYONE'S DANCING EXCEPT US!" Lorenzo shouts. "WE’RE GONNA BE EXCOMMUNICATED FROM ITALY."
He disappears into the crowd of tipsy middle-aged dancers. Gio and I exchange a look. He shrugs, grinning. "He's got a point." And then we're all scrambling to our feet. Marco nearly trips over the destroyed bench.
I get pulled up by Gio's hand and suddenly we're running.
We chase after Lorenzo, and we're laughing so hard it hurts. We reach the dance place and…god, it's like stepping straight into the heart of Italy.
Everyone's dancing. And not just dancing, but drunk dancing. The best kind. The kind where everyone's just loose and laughing and somehow perfectly in sync despite the wine.
People are singing the lyrics so loud, I can barely hear the actual speaker. It's chaos. Beautiful, musical chaos. Gio stops walking. Just stands there, not knowing what to do first.
Daisy grabs his hand and spins him in a full circle, and he laughs. Lorenzo's in the middle of a random dance circle, yelling the lyrics directly into Marco's face like he's serenading him. Marco's laughing and dancing and making these dumb dramatic faces like he's flattered by the whole thing.
Daisy's hands reach for mine, and she starts moving them side to side in rhythm with the song. This is ridiculous. I start laughing. I can't not. Everything's glowing. It literally feels like we've wandered into the last scene of a movie.
So we're dancing. In the corner of the fair where a group of strangers just pulled us in.
Lorenzo's stomping, while Daisy is doing ballerina twirls in freaking boots.
Marco is dancing with a grandma. Gio moves my hands with his, matching the rhythm of the song, and he somehow still looks like he belongs on a fucking Vogue cover. I can't stop laughing.
And just when I think this can't get more chaotic, I hear the unmistakable hiss of a garden hose. I turn my head. It's a tiny but old man. White tank top. Flip-flops. Red cheeks. Holding a garden hose. He's standing on the edge of the table. Beaming.
He yells, "PER LA FORTUNA!" and swings the hose up in the air. Water everywhere. The stream arches beautifully, and slaps Gio right in the face. He gasps. I scream.
Daisy shrieks. Marco howls, "RAIN BAPTISM!" and runs straight into it. We're all soaked in seconds. The old man spins in place, laughing so hard he almost falls over, waving the hose.
I gasp, duck, try to shield my face. Too late. I'm drenched in seconds. Gio grabs my wrist and pulls me into him, both of us laughing, pushing through the spray.
His hair is soaked, curling around his forehead.
His shirt clings to his chest. There's a drop of water sliding down the bridge of his annoyingly perfect nose.
My arms wrap around his neck slowly. He blinks down at me, confused for a second.
Then he sees that look in my eyes I've been trying to hide all night.
I can't hold it back anymore. I lean in. Press my lips to his, gently. Like I'm memorizing the way he feels. I feel him pull me closer.
It's not just a regular, normal kiss. It's a goodbye I don't want to say. It's an I love you without words. It's an I'm coming back, I promise. And he knows.
His hand cups the back of my head. His lips tremble against mine like he's trying not to fall apart. We kiss again. And again. And again. Until I feel his smile through it. He whispers, "Don't cry." I laugh. Just a little. Because I'm trying so hard not to.
But it's okay. Because he kisses me like we have forever. Holding hands, feet splashing in puddles, our clothes clinging to our bodies, strangers clapping and stomping around us. The music gets louder. The laughter too. The hose doesn't stop. This is the happiest I've ever been.
A few minutes later, we break away from the crowd soaked and breathless, still tripping over puddles as we laugh our way through the mess. Gio's hand never leaves mine. He's still shaking his hair like a dog and spraying more water in my face.
"STOP," I yell, laughing. We pass the old arcade booths, the candy stands, the last few stragglers swaying to fading music in the distance. Then I see…the photo booth. I pull Gio back by the arm. "Wait—WAIT!" I say, breathless. He turns. "What?"
"I've always wanted to do this," I say, pointing. "Before we leave. Please?" He doesn't hesitate. "Say less," he grins. "Let's go."
We squeeze into the photo booth, dripping wet and laughing like idiots. My shirt's sticking to my chest, and Gio's hair is falling into his eyes. He reaches out, brushes my hair to the side with both hands, then leans in close.
"You ready to take the best photos of your life?" He grins. "I hope you've got room on your wall for these."
I nod. And then the countdown starts.
We step out of the booth, the photos still printing behind us, and I wipe my wet hands on my pants. The machine whirs and spits out the photo strip.
I take one look.
Photo #1
In the first photo, he kisses my cheek, while grabbing my jaw. I laugh so hard I can barely stay upright.
Photo #2
We held up my hand with the duck ring. Proudly, like idiots. We were pointing at it like it was the most expensive jewelry we'd ever seen.
Photo #3
In this one I'm squishing his cheeks between my hands so hard he can't speak, it's a revenge pic. I regret nothing.
Photo #4
Gio is holding the cockroach plush up to the camera like it's his child and he's proud. I'm next to him, clutching the grumpy bear. We look like two unhinged parents defending our weird, mismatched babies.
Photo #5
One of my favorites. We're both serious, deadpan, looking into the camera like we're doing a mafia mugshot. Me trying not to burst out laughing.
Photo #6
There's one where I just…stare at him. That's it. I forgot about the camera because he was talking. I'm just looking at him, fully gone.
Photo #7
Gio grabs my jaw with both hands, kisses me aggressively, and I melt. Of course.
Photo #8
Gio again, completely out of nowhere, just leans in and licks my neck. Like full tongue. You can see the betrayal on my face.
Gio's flipping through the strip, grinning. "This is what I like to call art, baby," he says, holding it up dramatically. I roll my eyes, still trying to stop laughing. "You're unbelievable."
He smirks, nudging me with his elbow. "And you're lucky I'm letting you stand this close to me, peasant."
I turn to him, dead serious, brows raised. "Oh? Big talk for someone whose lip ring has touched my dick more times than I can count."
He freezes. I grin. "I'm just saying, maybe let the ring rest for five minutes, yeah?"
"I'm actually impressed with this comeback.
I'm proud of you, Ravioli." The others finally catch up with us, soaked to the bone and dripping water.
Lorenzo throws both arms around our necks dramatically, pulling us close.
"I hope your last night was enjoyable, my love," he says to me, deadly serious.
"Stop," I groan, already feeling my eyes sting. "Don't do that. I'm not crying again." Daisy pulls me into a hug. "My poor baby brother, off to Canada all by himself. Next time you visit, I'll have my own place. You can stay with me."
"Objection," Gio jumps in immediately. "Why wouldn't he stay with me?"
Marco chimes in like a bored judge. "Had a couple in court last month having this exact argument. I said the same thing I'll say now: shut up."
Daisy rolls her eyes. "Fine. I'll let it slide because I love you, Gio. If you were anyone else, I'd skin you." We start heading toward the exit, the fair behind us still glowing and echoing with music and laughter.
I look at them all. "Thank you, guys, really. This night was everything. Marco, thanks for the cockroach." Marco puffs out his chest like I gave him an award.
"See you tomorrow, Ravioli!" Lorenzo yells after me. And then I turn to Gio. He's slipping on his helmet. I lean in, a little quieter. "Shame this night's already over…I don't wanna go home yet." He glances at me with a smirk.
"Who said anything about going home?"