Chapter 6
Luca
I have no idea what to make out of yesterday.
I feel weird, but also… happy.
This kind of peace has been poured over my body, and I feel absolutely fine.
Tilly is not ready for a relationship.
Key word: Not ready.
She needs time, and I’ll give it to her.
In that time , I’ll show her how I feel instead of telling her in a crappy message.
And to be honest, I also need time, because I still have no idea how I feel.
The only thing I know with no doubt is that I don’t feel right when I say I don’t like her.
I feel right when my heart is beating for her, and who am I to deny my own heart?
I finally slept through the whole night, which is a win.
I don’t feel like jumping off my balcony right now. Instead, I actually want to get out of bed.
I sit up and stretch out. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror and smile.
What the hell are you doing, man ?
I stop smiling, because that was weird.
I start brushing my teeth when I hear Tilly’s voice float through the apartment.
“Food’s ready!”
It’s probably not, but I finish up either way.
When I get to the kitchen, she smiles and hands me four plates.
“Can you take these to the table, please?”
“Good morning, T.” I tilt my head to the side.
“Oh, good morning,” she blushes. “Sorry, I’m all over the place right now.”
I laugh and go to the dining table.
When I get back, I ask. “What are we having today?”
“Just set up the table and you’ll see.”
I can see she’s making pancakes, and just like I suspected, they are not ready.
Why do all girls say they are done cooking when they aren’t even close to being done?
I know Tilly is avoiding any sort of talk about yesterday evening, but I honestly don’t want to talk about that anyway, so I don’t mind.
“Hey, Luca.” Yana sits down in her usual seat. “How’d you sleep?”
I can hear the slight caution in her voice, and I feel terrible for making my friends feel like they need to be careful around me.
“I actually slept amazingly.” I look at her, and she smiles, making me feel even worse.
I have been a horrible friend and roommate these past days, and it makes me sick.
“I’m so sorry for being weird these past couple of days. I don’t know what came upon me.”
“You’re good. I knew you’d be fine.”
I look at Yana and wonder if Tilly told her or Zara about yesterday. I wouldn’t hold it against her, but I don’t know what to think if she did.
Yana isn’t looking at me any differently than she was yesterday, so I doubt it.
When Yana looks at Tilly, I am proved right as Tilly’s looking very interested in the jam she’s bringing to the table.
“Tills, can I have a word?”
Tilly’s eyes meet mine.
I shrug.
“Sure,” she says softly, handing me the jar before following Yana out.
I go to the kitchen and take her place by the stove.
I know Tilly will tell Yana now, because those two can’t keep a secret from each other to save their life.
We all know each other well enough that it is impossible to keep a secret from each other, but Yana and Tilly have a special bond. They are basically sisters, but completely different.
I don’t know why, but my chest feels warm knowing that she kept it a secret.
I have no proof she did, but I have a gut feeling she didn’t say anything about it.
Sure, it’s not that big of a deal, but knowing that something was between Tilly and me only makes my heart warm.
I stare at the pan, wondering if this will change anything between the group and me. Will Yana act differently toward me now? Will Tilly tell her not to — and she still will anyway?
I notice that until… I don’t actually know when, but I always saw Yana and Tilly the same.
Both of them were my best friends, and I loved them equally.
Now, I noticed that Tilly has blue nails when she was flipping the pancakes today, and I could not tell you what color Yana had.
It feels weird.
I’m not trying to notice everything about T, but I’m not complaining.
In fact, it feels as if a spot in my brain has been created to store every piece of information about her, and I don’t know what to think of it.
I don’t know what to think about Tilly.
I don’t know what to think about the group.
I don’t know what to think about my feelings.
I don’t know what to think about–
“Hey, you good?” Zara’s voice breaks through my brain fog.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’re burning the pancake,” she says, pointing. “And Italians don’t usually burn food.”
I look down.
Sure enough, the pancake is black and sticking to the pan.
“Oh.”
“Uh-huh.” She raises a brow. “So, are you actually good?”
“I had a good night for once. Just… overthinking, I guess.” I keep my eyes on the pan. Zara doesn’t push. She just gives me the look that says, I see through you, but I’ll let you pretend you’re fine.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” she smirks.
“Like I’m a complicated painting. One that people spend hours staring at because it’s too complex to make sense of.”
Her smile softens. “That’s because you are complex,” she bumps her hips with mine. “Humans tend to be.”
“Okay, you’re distracting me,” I mutter, turning the pancake over like it isn’t already beyond saving. “I hate being stared at.”
She snatches the spatula out of my hand. “Just go, philosopher . I’ll finish breakfast before you burn the kitchen down.”
“Okay, rude.” I glare at her.
She takes the pan off the stove and throws the burnt pancake away. Then she turns and looks at me. “Go.”
“It’s not like I’m dying to go anywhere.” I lie, already halfway out.
I’m an idiot.
“Hello,” Matt sings from the doorway as he lets the door slam shut. “Anyone home?”
“I’m literally in your line of sight,” I deadpan.
“Yeah, well, it’s so quiet I might have been hallucinating.” Matt rolls his eyes as he takes his shoes off.
“That just proves you’re the loud one in the apartment.”
He grins. “Aw, just admit you missed me.” He pulls me into a hug. “I was gone for one night. ”
I push him away and look at him, annoyed.
Sometimes I’m convinced he’s five in a nineteen-year-old body.
“How was the trip?”
“It was fine.”
“How is Mama Kowalski doing?”
“She’s fine,” he plops his bag on the floor, and walks towards his room.
I follow him.
“So, are you gonna disappear into your room with some excuse again today?” He jokes, but I can see the slight concern in his eyes.
“No, I actually had a really good night,” I tell him honestly, for once, sitting on his bed and resting on the wall. “And, ah, sorry, by the way. For being a jerk. I think I was so focused on something else that I forgot the rest of my life mattered too.”
Matt raises his brows. “Do I want to know?”
“When do you not want to know?”
“True,” he smiles, and I groan. “So… will you tell me?”
“No.”
“You’re so annoying. I’m your best friend in the whole world. How dare you deny me the details of your tragic little life?”
I shake my head. “Really?”
“You find this funny, don’t you?”
I snicker.
Matt and his extremely slow-to-mature mind.
“Just tell me.”
“No.”
“Please?” He tries to convince me with his seriously weird look, which doesn’t work, because he looks like a deranged dog.
“Fine.” I drawl. “One question. Uno. ” I hold up a finger. “ Jeden, ” I add in Polish, to make my point.
He groans. “What do you take me for, a child?”
“Yes,” I smirk. “Also, that was a question.”
He ignores me. “What’s been on your mind all week? The thing keeping you up, making you lie. And don’t you dare answer with something cryptic.”
I sigh. “A girl.”
His face went from smug to stunned.
“Wait, really? I’d be mad that you outsmarted me, but… what the hell? You never talk about girls.”
“Yeah, and that’s not about to change,” I tell him.
“Oh, come on. That’s no fun. Do I know her?”
“You used up your one question.”
“I do, don’t I!”
When I don’t answer, he groans.
I smirk at him. “Your midlife crisis is coming early.”
“Proof that midlife crises are total crap.”
“How?”
“Because you’ve already had five.”
I look at him, offended. “If anyone here endured midlife criseses it’s you!”
“ For sure, because I’m the one who walked around like a dead fish for the past week.”
“Fish don’t walk.”
He looks at me, confused. “Huh?”
“You said your, you know what, never mind. That was not a midlife crisis.”
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night?” He slaps my back and gets up when Zara yells breakfast.
This time, I hope it’s actually ready.
“I thought it was your turn to cook,” Matt said as we walked in.
“It was,” I admitted, “but this whole week has been off.”
He nods as he sits next to Yana.
“Hi, guys!” she waves.
“Hey,” Tilly says, locking her eyes with mine.
She definitely told Yana.
“Weren’t you cooking?” Tilly teases, spreading the homemade jam I brought from Italy last month.
“I was,” I say, keeping my eyes on my plate, “but Zara saved me from burning down the kitchen.”
“Really?” she shrieks, nearly jumping out of her seat. “Hard to believe Luca Rossi messes up in the kitchen.”
“That’s what I said!” Zara laughs. “I had to double-check I wasn’t hallucinating. The smell was pure burn.”
She gets up, saying something about the bathroom.
“Haha,” I deadpan. “Just because I’m Italian doesn’t mean I’m perfect. You’re Korean — does that mean you never mess up your skincare?” I point at Yana.
She clicks her tongue. “Touché.” She takes a piece and starts chewing. “But seriously, what’s been going on with you? We’ve known you for ages, and this week has been… weird.”
“Nothing’s happening,” I lie smoothly.
So maybe Tilly didn’t say anything.
Matt grins like a traitor. “Now we all know that’s not true.”
Yana looks at Tilly, offended. “See, Luca told Matt!” Then she basically forces Matt to talk.
I feel Tilly’s eyes on me.
“There’s a girl,” Matt announces dramatically, like he’d solved a mystery.
I shoot him a look that says he should be grateful looks don’t kill.
“What girl?” Yana presses.
“No one knows.”
I look across the table. Tilly has her head tilted.
A girl? She mouths
I smile at her.
Nobody knows.