Chapter 2
I lingered for another twenty minutes, savoring the stillness, before finally getting up and making my way to the bathroom.
I twisted my hair into a bun and splashed cold water on my face to wake myself up.
After brushing my teeth, I slipped into the clothes I had laid out the night before and I added a denim jacket from the closet, thinking it might be chilly outside.
Moving as quietly as I could, I crept down the stairs to the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. My dad was already seated at the dining table, sipping his espresso and reading the morning paper.
“Good morning, sweetheart. You're up early. Did you sleep well?” he asked, looking up with a smile.
“Yes, I did. Is Mom still sleeping?” I asked, leaning down to kiss his forehead before pouring myself a cup from the moka pot.
“Yes, she is, and I'm letting her.”
“Why are you up so early?” I asked, trying to fill the silence.
“Oh, I have a patient, Mrs. Palombi. She's nearly 80 and insisted on coming at 5 AM, but I managed to negotiate to 8:30.” We both chuckled at the absurdity. “I could give you a ride to the bus stop if you'd like.”
“Thanks, Dad, but it's a lovely morning, and it's only a ten-
minute walk. I could use the fresh air,” I replied.
“Alright then.” He returned his focus to the paper. I quickly texted Marco to let him know I was ready and to see if he wanted to walk with me this morning. Normally, his mom would drive us to the bus stop on her way to work, but I felt the need to walk and speak with Marco.
After finishing my coffee, I rinsed the mug and dashed upstairs to grab my backpack. I left the terrace door open, allowing the cool morning breeze to swirl through my room.
Unlocking the front door, I spotted Marco waiting on the small gravel road.
We lived on a single road lined with only nine houses, each one a good distance apart—the kind of place where everyone knew each other.
It was located just a seven-minute drive from the center of our small Italian town, home to nearly 10,000 residents.
I smiled widely as I approached Marco, hoping he wasn't still upset with me. I wrapped my arms around him in a long, warm hug.
“Good morning, Lu,” he greeted.
“Good morning! Is everything alright?” I asked, pulling back slightly to gauge his expression, trying to anticipate the answer.
“Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday. I snapped. It's just…”
“It's okay, I understand,” I replied, even though I knew it wasn't entirely okay. We walked in silence, exchanging only a few words. An unfamiliar weight pressed down on me, a feeling I had never experienced before.
“Luna!” Emily called out, her face lighting up with excitement as she waved at me. As I approached, she enveloped me in a warm, strong hug.
“I haven't seen you in ages! Where have you been?”
“I think I'm the guilty one,” Marco chimed in, a mischievous grin on his face. “I kept her locked in my house most of the time.”
“Oooh, finally some action!” Emily teased, a sly smile spreading across her lips.
“And my mom made sure my door was always open,” he added with a wink. The bus pulled up, and the three of us climbed aboard to find seats.
“Did you finally do it?” Emily asked, her eyes sparkling with hope. “Sorry to let you down,” I replied, secretly wishing it were true. “Oh, come on! You're going to make those balls of his explode. Poor guy!” she whispered with disappointment into my ear.
“Emily!” I exclaimed, a bit louder than intended.
“I can't help it; it's the truth! I, on the other hand, had a wild summer,” she declared proudly.
“You know I would rather not hear any details about your escapades.”
“Yes, yes, you're our sweet, innocent girl,” she replied with a laugh.
“Can you please stop?” I asked, trying to keep my composure.
“Girl, break some rules and live a little!”
“I'm living my life the way I want to.”
“Alright, I'll drop it, but I love you anyway,” Emily said, squeezing me tight once more.
I made my way to the back of the bus, intending to sit with Marco, but Emily tugged at my hand.
“Come on, sit with me! You've had her for the last two weeks; now it's my turn!” She shot a jealous glance at Marco.
“It's fine; she can sit with you. I'll have her all to myself this afternoon,” he smirked, clearly enjoying the banter.
Emily sat by the window, allowing me to keep Marco in my line of sight on my side.
“Did you dye your hair? It has a reddish tint in the sunlight,” I remarked, genuinely surprised as I tugged at a strand of Emily’s hair for a closer inspection.
Since middle school, I had always remembered her with her long, curly black hair framing her round face, accentuating her large, chocolate brown eyes and thick, long lashes to die for.
“Yes, I did just last night. I wanted a change. It's subtle, and you can really only see it when the sun hits it just right,” she replied.
“It looks good,” I said, still assessing whether I liked the new look as much as I wanted to.
“Let's see if anyone else notices,” she replied, her excitement palpable. My gaze drifted to Marco, who was blissfully unaware with his eyes closed and headphones on.
The ride would take about thirty minutes, and we filled the time talking about our summer at the camp and the bittersweet reality that this would be our last year together.
Emily was planning to apply to a university up north, which meant she'd be relocating, and we would only see each other during holidays.
I hadn't made any decisions yet, and it seemed Marco was in the same boat, perhaps waiting for my lead. I felt as if a powerful current was pulling me toward an open sea far too quickly, and I had no idea which way to swim.
When we finally arrived at our stop, Marco leaned in to kiss me, wishing me luck on my first day of school. Although Emily and I were in the same art school and in the same class, Marco, however, was off to a science and technology college with dreams of becoming a biomedical engineer.
As for me, art had always been my passion.
I had been sketching female models since I first picked up a pencil, and I was determined to become a fashion designer.
Emily had initially aspired to be an architect, but she altered her plans largely to stay close to me.
She wasn't really interested in school, but she was undeniably intelligent, managing to maintain above average in her studies.
Her parents, both professionals in law and medicine, only agreed to let her attend art college on the condition that she continued her education.
“Come on, we need to hurry; I want to look around,” Emily said, her eyes scanning the crowd as if she were looking for someone.
“Oh, shit!”
“Please, Emily, watch your language!”
“Look over there.” She gestured toward a throng of students murmuring among themselves.
“There are three police cars. What the heck happened?” I asked, straining to catch a glimpse of the scene.
“Everyone, please proceed to your classes; there's nothing to see here. Let's move along,” Mr. Baldi, our math teacher, directed.
“Hey, do you have any idea what's going on?” Emily asked a student at the front of the group.
I edged closer to listen in. “They're calling it vandalism. Someone smashed the window of our lab class. It looked like there was a party; there were food scraps and empty bottles everywhere. I heard some teachers speculating it might be someone from our school,” the guy whispered.
Well, that opened up many possibilities; 90 percent of our student body was full of 'unique' characters, some dabbling in drugs and others smoking weed. We were all artists, after all.
“Do you have any idea who it could be?” I asked Emily, intrigued to see if she had any leads.
“I don't know, but it could be anyone. Definitely a large group,” she replied, and I nodded in agreement. “Looks like no art lab for us today.” I felt a pang of disappointment; art lab was my favorite subject, a chance for us to unleash our creativity and work with our hands.
“Let's check the board for our first class,” Emily suggested as she walked toward it.
“Don't you ever check your emails? Come on, we have history first, in room 303.”
“Oh, right, but I tend to ignore my emails until they pile up to a hundred unread messages.” She flashed a grin.
Once we stepped in, there were only a couple of students sitting.
Probably all the others were still trying to find some information.
We waved at them and sat in our usual spot in the last row by the window.
A moment later, a large group walked in, taking their usual seats as well.
Someone waved at us; others just ignored us.
The class was almost entirely female, with just one boy, Jonny, who wanted to be a fashion designer and dreamed of living in Milan.
There were five groups that stuck together, and we named them all just for fun.
The Holy Trinity: Jonny and two other sisters; they were inseparable.
If they could, they would go to the same bathroom as well.
The Snobs: five girls with poor grades who didn't want to talk to anyone outside their group.
The Rich: four girls who were competing to see who had more brands.
The Nerds: four girls who slept with their books, the first ones to come to class and the last to leave, never missing a day.
And, of course, the two of us—the Siamese twins, inseparable since day one.
“Aren't there any cameras in here?” Emily whispered, leaning toward me.
“There were, but none by the lab; they broke down before the end of the school year. Don't you remember? Somebody came to fix them, but eventually, they never did.”
“Oh, so it must be someone from this school then.”
Mr. Costa came rushing, looking nervous.