45 #3
All the boys are like "Ooooh Giulia smiled at me," and "I think I wanna kiss Martina," and I'm just sitting there like: shut up and die. Who cares. They asked me who I like and I said "I like fast engines and the smell of burnt rubber."
That shut them up. Luigi said I'm gonna die alone and I said "Good. Peace and quiet." Oh right.
Today I had to go to this kid's house after school 'cause our moms had "work stuff" to talk about. Boring. Adults are SO LOUD. They laugh like everything's funny even when it's not. And they drink weird juice that smells like butt. Guess whose house it was.
Rava's. Yeah. That guy. He's in my class too which is so unfair. Like I can't escape him. He's everywhere. And now he's also the son of my mom's "business friend" or whatever. So now I have to see his face EVEN AFTER SCHOOL.
At least his mom makes good pies. Like, really good. I almost asked for a third slice but then he looked at me with his "manners" eyes like "you already had two" and I had to act like I wasn't gonna. RUDE. Anyway.
Rava's a total nerd. He raises his hand for EVERYTHING.
One time he corrected the teacher. Like, who even does that?
His notebooks are so neat it's disgusting.
And he's always got pencils sharpened like weapons.
I bet he'd survive a zombie attack with just a ruler and a stapler.
I told him that and he laughed. Which was weird.
While our moms were doing their adult blah blah, we were stuck in his living room.
I was gonna turn on the TV but he said "We don't watch too much television on weekdays.
" I thought I was gonna die right there. So I tried to talk about bikes.
I said if I had a Ducati I'd never come home again. I'd ride across the whole world and make everyone eat my dust. He blinked. Said something like "That sounds dangerous. Why would you want that?"
HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT. I was like "Dangerous IS the point, nerd.
" Then he said he wants to be a teacher when he grows up.
Like a TEACHER. Like Mr. Roberto but tiny and with no mustache.
I said "Why would you want to be stuck in a school forever?
?" And he said "Because I like helping people learn.
" Ughhhhh. Help yourself to some fun maybe? ?
I stole a cupcake and gave it to him. Because I felt bad. He said "thank you." Like that. All soft. And smiled. Then I said "wanna see a trick?" And I made a fork disappear into my sleeve.
He said "that's just stealing." WHATEVER. It was COOL. My cousin Lorenzo would've clapped. We ended up playing cards. He beat me five times but I think he cheated. His face is too calm. It's suspicious.
I don't get it. He's not cool at all. He doesn't like bikes.
He organizes his crayons. He says "please" and "thank you.
" He's like a grandpa in a kid's body. So why do I keep writing about him?
?? Stupid notebook. You're making me sound obsessed.
I'm not. He's just annoying. Whatever. I'm gonna draw a bike now to fix my brain.
— Gio
I can't believe this is real. I'm actually sitting on a plane to Canada, crying like a loser into my shirt, and this idiot gave me a whole ass diary. And now I'm reading about me.
Apparently I'm "that guy." Okay.
Cool.
Now I want to read every single page. Every stupid, angry, messy thought he ever scribbled down.
PAGE 3:
TODAY I went for a ride with Dad on the motorbike and it was SO FREAKIN' COOL. I love it. My dad is the coolest dad in the world. I'm not even saying that to be nice. It's just a fact.
He lets me sit in front and he doesn't even care if I yell like "VROOOOM" really loud. But…lately he looks kinda sad. I don't like that. I wish I could fix it. But I'm just a kid. A cool kid. But still a kid.
OH. Speaking of bad dads…Rava's dad SUCKS. He's always yelling at him like Rava did something horrible, but Rava literally just exists and breathes and reads stupid long books.
Like, okay? That's ugly but not a crime? He also yells at my dad. If that man yells at him again I'm gonna throw a pie in his face. A real one. Like from cartoons. SMACK. Anyway.
GUESS WHAT. My cousin LORENZO is coming today from his little village and he's NOT a nerd.
He's hilarious. He always makes me laugh even when I try to act mysterious and serious like a mafia boss.
He gets it. He likes motorbikes too. I can't wait to see him and roast Rava together. It's gonna be epic.
Even though dad said I should give Rava another chance because he's "a sweet boy deep down." Yeah, well, DEEP DEEP DOWN maybe. Like, underground. Under the basement. Of hell.
Today we had to do group work at school.
He said we should write about the history of our town.
I said no. We're writing about motorcycles through time.
He said that's not educational. I said your FACE isn't educational.
He said that doesn't make sense. I said your MOM doesn't make sense.
Then he blinked at me for like five minutes straight. I think I won.
But then he actually started writing?? Like…FAST. He made a timeline and used colored pencils and everything. He had green, blue, and pink. Who even OWNS pink? Then he said, "we should take this seriously, Giovanni." I said "I am taking it seriously." (While drawing fire on the wheel of a bike.)
He said "you spelled 'transmission' wrong.
" SO WHAT. I spelled it like it sounds: tranzmishun.
It's called phonetics. Look it up. Then the teacher came.
She said "you two make a good team." I almost puked.
Rava smiled again. I hate that smile. I hate how he fixes his dumb collar every two seconds.
I hate that he says "bless you" when I cough.
I hate that when I said "I don't need anyone," he said "that's okay, I'll just be here.
" WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'LL JUST BE HERE. GET OUT OF HERE. I'm FINE.
He left his eraser on my desk. I kept it. Not because I like him. Just because I might need it. For emergencies. Like erasing his face from my brain. He's such a nerd that when he's near me my heart starts beating real fast.
Probably because my body is WARNING ME that I'm about to DIE from too much nerd energy. Gross.
– GIO (p.s. I'm awesome.)
I'm literally laughing through tears because Gio, at ten years old, was trying so hard to be an outlaw.
Big bad rebel boy, writing "gross" in all caps just because his heart fluttered when I stood near him. And now? That same man is the reason I'm breaking apart thirty thousand feet above sea level.
I sniffle, trying to make it quiet, but I sound like a broken bike horn. "Here," someone says beside me. I turn my head.
A boy about our age is holding out a tissue. He's blonde, pale, Swedish-looking as hell. I give him a polite smile and take the tissue.
"Thanks," I mumble and turn my face away so he doesn't see how pathetic I look. "So emotional, huh?" he says gently.
I glance back at him. "It's my boyfriend's journal," I say.
His eyebrows lift and he props his chin on his hand. "Aw. That's adorable. He keeps a journal? What a sweet guy."
I snort. "No, he's not sweet," I say. "Once, he sent someone to the hospital for saying something about me."
The guy blinks. "He did, huh?" Then he tilts his head.
"So…why were you crying before you even started reading?"
Damn.
There's a thousand things I could say.
A thousand real things. But I don't want to make Gio look like he's not…here. Like he didn't show up. Like he forgot me.
Because I want to believe he didn't. So I lie.
"…I'm scared of planes."
Seriously, Rava? That's what you came up with? You were crying your eyes out cause you're scared.
The guy laughs. "That's cute." Then he stretches a little in his seat and says, "I'm Hugo, by the way. What's your name?"
I panic. "It's Roy."
Nice. What are you, a fake cowboy now?
"Nice to meet you, Roy," Hugo says with a sleepy grin. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna pass out. But hey, if you run out of tissues, give me a nudge." He smiles again and leans back. I nod.
I hope your excuse is good, Gio. Not just good.
Not "traffic was crazy" good. Not "my phone died" good.
I need unreal. Something so insane it almost sounds fake.
Because right now I feel abandoned.
And I don’t even know which version of the story I’m living in. Did I do something? Did I miss a sign? Or did something happen to you? Worst part is I genuinely don’t know which one would hurt more.
I hope your explanation justifies what I’m feeling right now. I hope there’s something bigger than my fear of being left behind.
Because if the truth is simple, then I don’t know how I’m supposed to swallow that.
So please…let the explanation be enough.
Let it justify what I’m feeling right now.
Bonus Scene!
Gio
Nine Years Old
Dad is in the garage, fixing the bike, and I’m just staring at him like a weirdo.
He looks cool. The bike looks cool. Everything is cool. I bet if my classmates could see this, they’d explode. Their dads come home in boring cars and talk about emails. My dad comes home on a MOTORBIKE.
A big one. I wouldn’t blame them. I’d be jealous of me too. "Dad, can I help?" I ask for the third time. Maybe fourth.
"In a minute, Gio."
Ugh. A minute is FOREVER. I swing my legs, tap my fingers on my knees, lean closer, try to see what he’s doing. He’s messing with something near the engine. "Dad," I say again. "I wanna fix it too. I know stuff now."
"You know stuff, huh?"
"Yeah," I say fast.
He shakes his head but moves a little to the side so I can see better.
"Okay. You want to help? Pass me the small wrench.
The ten." I jump up, go to the toolbox and stare at all the wrenches for a second. They all look the same, but I’m not gonna admit that.
I pick up the one I think is right, check the tiny number on it, and bring it to him. "Ten," I say.
"Bravo," he says, taking it from me.