Chapter 16
It was exceptionally chilly, but thankfully, the concert was indoors. Jessica, Emily, and I were waiting in the town square for Marco and a friend of his who I knew nothing about.
My mom was hesitant about letting me go, but she did her best to support me since she knew a parent would be with us. I disliked lying to her, but wasn't that just what kids did sometimes?
I wore a pair of black platform boots that offered little warmth, and my feet were freezing.
Marco was always punctual, so I wasn't surprised he arrived right on time.
We had arrived early to ensure our plan went smoothly.
Emily looked a bit anxious, but I kept quiet, wanting her to feel comfortable with their relationship.
Jessica lit up a cigarette, which I disapproved of, but she insisted it was just for when we were out.
“Why is it so cold today? My hands are turning blue!” Jessica exclaimed, shivering as she tried to take a drag from her cigarette.
“Stop smoking and tuck your hands in; I'm sure they'll warm up,” I replied, giving her a disapproving look.
“Marco's here!” Emily said, her excitement palpable.
I turned to see a blue electric Volkswagen Golf pull up in front of us. Marco was the first to step out of the passenger side, followed by his friend. I didn't recognize this guy; I didn't know him. He had short, light hair, was thin, and wore black-framed glasses. He smiled at us shyly.
“Hey, girls! This is my friend Matteo,” Marco introduced, glancing around at us.
“Nice to meet you all. Well, I already know you, Emily,” Matteo said, extending his hand to me and Jessica but not to Em. Of course, he knew her; they must have spent quite a bit of time together, which I knew nothing about.
I shook his cold hand, and we all climbed into Matteo's car. Jessica squeezed into the middle while Emily and I sat on either side. It was cramped, but at least warm.
The ride was estimated to take about an hour and 16 minutes according to the GPS. The venue was a warehouse outside of Rome, so we could avoid the chaos of the city.
Once we left town, Matteo started driving fast, and while I felt uneasy about it, I tried to trust Marco’s judgment.
I gripped my seat during the turns, the loud music blaring, attempting to keep calm.
I had no intention of ending my life on the road, at least not before I had a chance to kiss Zane.
I started thinking about how a week had passed without any messages from him. I panicked and didn't respond to his text. Just when I thought I knew what to say, it was already the next morning, and I figured it was too late.
I had trouble sleeping that night, constantly checking my phone, hoping for a new message. I was torn between wanting to reach out and the fear of saying the wrong thing. I felt so insecure and lost.
Matteo seemed to have watched too much Formula One, and I knew I should say something, but I didn't want to be the one to complain. Just then, Marco turned around to check on us, likely concerned about my scared expression, and asked Matteo to slow down.
The music was so loud that conversation was difficult; instead, we all got lost in our thoughts. There were a few close calls on the road, and honestly, I would have preferred if a parent had driven us instead. But kids crave adventure, and I was supposed to come along.
We arrived about ten minutes early. The parking lot was packed, forcing us to walk a distance before reaching the entrance, which had a long line.
Waiting in the cold felt like punishment, but we had no choice.
As we stood there making small talk, Marco opened his coat and pulled out a bottle of Coke.
“Who wants some?” he asked. Instinctively, I reached for it, just like I always did when he offered.
“I'm thirsty,” I said as I opened the bottle. After my first sip, I realized it wasn't just Coke. “What is this?” I grimaced in disgust, and everyone laughed.
“It's whiskey and Coke. Enjoy,” Marco replied with a grin, as if nothing had changed between us. Was I acting the same? I handed the bottle back to him, and he offered it to Emily, who took a few sips, followed by Jessica, and soon everyone had a turn until it was empty.
Surprisingly, it did help warm me from the inside. After about half an hour of waiting, our conversations became livelier. Finally, we stepped inside, and a wave of warm air enveloped us, prompting me to quickly remove my coat.
People were gathering near the stage, and we found ourselves near the back of the crowd.
There were hundreds of people milling about, and I scanned the crowd for Zane, unsure if he'd be here or even interested in this band.
I tried to stay composed while my head spun from looking at so many faces in such a short time.
When the band came out, the crowd erupted in screams and jumps. It was wild. I wasn't one to openly express my emotions, but inside, I was ecstatic. For the next two hours, I lost myself in the music, singing along to my favorite songs and trying to capture the moment in my mind.
Then, unexpectedly, I felt someone brush against my hand and my hair. I felt as if someone had taken my wrist gently and slowly moved his fingers down to my palm and then tangled with my fingers. I turned around, but no one I recognized was there; everyone was too busy with their own excitement.
My heart fluttered madly, like a bird dreaming of the sky, as I scanned the crowd: couples, guys jumping, others recording videos.
I had no clue who had touched me. I didn't want to sound delusional, even if it was just in my head.
I couldn't possibly entertain the thought that it might have been Zane.
That seemed impossible; he wouldn't come to this concert.
He wouldn't come near me with Jessica standing right in front of me.
I spun around, trying to lullaby my heart.
The concert had ended, but I felt more exhilarated than when we first walked in.
As we filed out in what felt like an endless line, I desperately searched the crowd but found nothing.
Even when we reached the car, I continued to look around, but it was all in vain.
The journey home felt like a blur, faster than before, and I did my best to appear nonchalant. Somehow, we ended up at a brewery bar in the neighboring town. I texted my mom, letting her know we were back but had decided to stop for a chat. She seemed relieved and suggested I go home soon.
I had visited this place a few times before with Marco and the whole gang. The guys ordered beers for all of us to celebrate the concert we had just enjoyed. Finally, I began to unwind, feeling secure on solid ground.
Suddenly, a drunken stranger stumbled up from behind, wrapping his arms around me and knocking my beer over. I turned, confused, as I had no clue who he was. I attempted to shove him away, but his mumbled words were incomprehensible.
Marco, furious, charged in and yanked the guy away. The drunk seemed to regain some clarity and retaliated against him. I had never seen Marco this enraged. The two began to shove each other, prompting Matteo to rush over and pull Marco back, while others restrained the drunken guy.
Marco shot me a quick glance, his expression stormy, before he turned to follow Emily, who had dashed outside in shock. I glanced at Jessica, who remained silent, so I moved closer to her.
“I… I don't know what just happened,” I admitted, avoiding her gaze.
“He's still protective of you. How do you think Emily feels about that?” Jessica remarked, studying me intently.
“But I didn't do anything to warrant that,” I protested. He was just acting as he always did, even now that we were attempting to be friends. He was merely looking out for his friends, wasn't he? Perhaps I should reach out to Emily or even Marco.
“It was a good night, at least until now. We had fun, right?” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips as she took a sip of her beer.
“Emily wants to head home. Are you guys coming?” Matteo asked as he approached us before I could answer. We both stood, leaving our unfinished drinks on the bar.
By the time we reached the car, Marco and Emily were already inside, and Emily was looking away. We dropped her off first, and Marco stepped outside with her since, apparently, he had left his car near her place. The farewells were brief and hasty. Afterward, Matteo and Jessica drove me home.
“Hey, how about lunch at my place tomorrow? We can chat, and I might invite Emily too,” Jessica suggested, rolling down the window as I approached my front door.
“Sure, that sounds good. Let's figure it out tomorrow,” I replied, waving goodbye as I headed inside.
Feeling a headache creeping in, I decided to make some tea, fearing I might come down with something. It was quite chilly after all. I let the tea steep and drank it while lying in bed. My instincts were right; the next morning I woke up with a stuffy nose and a pounding headache.
That day, I didn't meet Jessica and skipped school the following day. It was the first time this year that I had missed classes. My mom made me some comforting chicken soup and brought a selection of teas with honey to my bed.
I spent most of the day sleeping, and while I tried to read a bit, I just couldn't focus. I jotted down some thoughts in my diary, particularly the moment someone touched my hand, and reflected on Marco’s behavior.
I decided to gather all the things I had borrowed from him:
T-shirts, hoodies, a couple of books he lent me, and a pair of his sunglasses. Anything else he had given me was a gift, so I figured it wouldn't be polite to return those.
By evening, I was feeling much better—no more fever—and decided to walk over to Marco’s place to return everything. I got dressed, grabbed two bags, and hurried downstairs. When I opened the door, I was surprised to find Marco standing there, hand poised to ring the bell.
“Whoa, you scared me!” I exclaimed.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to talk,” he replied, his voice tinged with guilt, even though there was no reason for him to feel guilty. I let him in, explaining my plans to come over. He looked at the bags I was holding with a hint of sadness.
We headed upstairs to my room, and I closed the door.
Normally, he would jump straight onto my bed, but this time he moved slowly.
I took a seat on the bed while he pulled the desk chair closer to me, as my reclining chair was filled with clothes.
An awkward silence filled the space until I broke it.
“What was that about the other day?” I asked, exhaling softly.
“I don't know,” he replied, shaking his head.
“You don't have to look out for me anymore,” I said, my voice laced with sadness.
“I know,” he muttered.
“Then why did you?” I pressed.
“Because it just happened,” he said, as if it were obvious.
“But you're with Emily now. How do you think she has to react?” I countered.
“I know, and I said I was sorry. I overreacted.
I try to act cool, but it's hard for me,” Marco admitted, locking his gaze with mine.
In that moment, I realized he was struggling too, trying to maintain a facade of normalcy.
“When I saw that guy touching you, for a moment I thought…” He trailed off, and I finished his thought.
“You thought we were together.” He nodded in agreement.
“We've known each other for so long and I have no idea what it's like without you,” Marco said, and I understood where he was coming from.
“I get it, but we have to move on. You've moved on with Emily, right?” I asked, noticing the shock on his face as he realized what I meant.
“Who told you?” he asked suddenly.
“Well, we're friends. It's not hard to figure out,” I replied, shaking my head, not in anger, but in acceptance.
“I'm sorry,” he said, hiding his face in his hands.
“Don't be. I'm honestly glad it's Emily,” I reassured him.
“And you're okay with that?” He looked at me, surprised.
“Of course. This is life. Just because we're not together doesn't mean I want you to stop dating,” I said, and we both chuckled.
“I'm really relieved to hear that because I didn't know how to tell you,” he said more comfortably.
“I love you and always will. You were my first boyfriend, my first love, and you'll always hold a special place in my heart,” I told him, watching his eyes light up.
“And I'll always love you too, but I'm not sure how comfortable I'd be hanging out together.” As he said that, I realized he might be here to distance himself from me. My mouth opened, searching for the right words. “Please try to understand,” he added.
“I don't know what to say,” I replied sharply.
“Just say you understand. It's only for a few months, and then we'll all be in different cities. It'll be easier,” Marco said, taking my hands, but I pulled away.
“Alright then. If that's what you want. What should I say to Emily?” I asked.
“Don't worry about it,” his response made it clear that this was Emily’s plan from the start. It seemed like things hadn't turned out the way I hoped.