CHAPTER 27
Having the power to read each other's minds without being a fairy-tale creature was rare or almost non-existent, but as I walked toward Zane, I could read him like a book.
It was a dance of unspoken connection, a silent capoeira, where our gazes intertwined in the rhythm of fresh beginnings. The sun shone brightly, and the unusual February warmth enveloped us.
Zane stood by the school gates, clad in his signature black leather jacket, faded grey skinny jeans, and a black hoodie, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He seemed to possess the same ability to sense my thoughts, his smile reflecting that understanding.
I had chosen a light blue long-sleeve top paired with loose-fitting light jeans and a soft grey windbreaker. My hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. I strode confidently toward him. An air of calm surrounded me. My heartbeat was steady, reassuring me that he was mine.
As soon as I drew closer, I didn't hesitate; I craved to merge with him.
Our lips collided in a fervent kiss that brought the world around us to a standstill.
Some onlookers stared in surprise, a few chuckled, and others whispered, but their reactions were irrelevant.
This moment was perfect, and I reveled in it.
His lips felt as if they were made solely for me. They were mine.
His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me nearer, while I entwined my arms around his neck, drawing him in even tighter. His scent enveloped me, and the taste of him ignited an uncontrollable desire that clouded my thoughts.
The world spun away, and I wished time could slow down so I could savor this bliss for longer. The kiss softened and slowed, and as our lips parted, an invisible thread of craving lingered between us. Our eyes locked, each reading the other's unspoken language—words became superfluous.
Then, he stepped back and extended his hand toward me.
“Come with me,” he murmured, his voice laced with a hypnotic charm.
“Where? We have school,” I replied, my mind protesting.
“Let's enjoy the morning together just this once. The weather is too beautiful to waste inside,” he coaxed, his tone gentle and teasing.
“I've never skipped school,” I confessed.
“So let me be your first—” he paused, his eyes holding mine, “—who would let you do this.” A smirk played on his lips that sent my heart racing. And just like that, he took my hand, and I found myself following him, ready to walk to the edge of the world.
I didn't ask any questions as he guided me toward his car, swiftly removing my backpack and tossing both of our backpacks onto the back seat.
He instructed me to climb in, and I complied without hesitation. The engine roared to life, and we were off. I couldn't help but steal glances at him now that I had the freedom to do so.
“What's up?” he chuckled, catching my gaze. His dimple was prominently visible in the soft light.
“Just admiring the view,” I replied, relishing the feeling of being candid. He turned a shade of pink.
“There's nothing to admire, really. You're just distracting me,” he said with a grin. We both knew we looked a bit silly, unable to stop grinning at each other.
“Where are we headed?” I inquired, intrigued as we left the town behind.
“To a place where no one will question you skipping school,” he replied, sparking my curiosity.
Time seemed to fly as we dived deep into conversation, sharing stories about our lives, hobbies, and favorite memories.
The connection was electric. It was all so different, so free.
I still thought this was just a dream. I could touch him whenever I wanted; I could look at him, speak to him, and ask questions.
I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of him, or the idea of us.
I felt like I was losing my grip on reality, scared that all of that might just dissolve like smoke.
I spotted a large sign, and my jaw dropped.
“Are we really going to Rome?”
“Absolutely.”
“But I need to be home by 3 PM!”
“Don't worry, I'll drop you off right after. We'll have a few hours to explore,” he assured me, easing my concerns. I decided to push thoughts of consequences aside for now, opting to deal with them if and when they arose.
Finding a parking spot was trickier than expected, but he managed to squeeze into a garage. We stepped out, and the sun enveloped us in warmth. People hurried by, scooters zipped past, and cars honked—chaos reigned, yet it felt beautiful.
“I love big cities,” Zane said, inhaling the vibrant atmosphere.
“Why's that?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Because I can do this, and nobody will care,” he said, pulling me in for a quick kiss before picking me up and spinning me around in his arms and setting me back down.
I needed a moment to recover. “You see?” he gestured around us.
“No one cares.” We both laughed, continuing our stroll with his arm around my shoulders, stealing kisses whenever he felt like it. I didn't mind one bit.
We wandered through the narrow, historic streets filled with tantalizing aromas, feeling more like adventurous tourists than two kids skipping school.
Zane seemed to know all the best spots. He took my hand and led me inside the Pantheon, and I was mesmerized by the vast dome and the oculus that let in radiant sunlight.
“Did you know the rain never touches the floor?” Zane said, standing close behind me, his breath brushing against my ear as he pointed to the oculus.
“No way, it's gigantic! It must be 20 feet wide!” I exclaimed.
“Actually, it measures 29 feet. And while it does rain and snow, look at those tiny holes…” He gestured to the floor.
“How do you know all this?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Excuse me? You're speaking to a future architect here,” he replied, feigning indignation.
“Oh right, I almost forgot. The aspiring New York architect,” I teased, and he tried to tickle me in retaliation. “But doesn't it flood when it rains heavily?” I continued, eager to learn more.
“As I was saying, see that over there? The floor is slightly raised in the center and slopes toward 22 hidden holes along the edges. They drain rainwater into an ancient Roman sewer system, preventing flooding,” he explained, his enthusiasm contagious.
“This marvel was completed in 125 CE, and that oculus is a testament to ancient engineering, embracing nature instead of resisting it.
Isn't it incredible?” His eyes sparkled as he spoke.
He took my hand again, acting as my personal tour guide. Sure, my teachers had shared this information during school trips, but it was far more captivating coming from Zane.
“See that hotel?” he pointed to a building with double glass doors. I followed his gaze to the sign that read '9Hotel Cesari.'
“One day, we'll stay there, enjoying the nightlife and the peaceful mornings after,” he said, glancing at me with excitement.
“It's perfectly located between my two favorite spots: the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain—only four minutes away from each other,” he said.
I admired his ability to plan for the future.
We continued our exploration, and we stopped for ice cream, the chilly treat causing me to shiver. He wrapped his arm around me for warmth and protection. When we arrived at the Trevi Fountain, I couldn't help but ask him for more intriguing tidbits.
“Tell me something I don't know,” I challenged him, thrilled at the prospect.
“Hm, over €1.5 million in coins are tossed into the fountain every year,” he stated proudly.
“I already knew that, next!” I replied, feigning disappointment.
“Alright, let me think. Hmm…. Do you see that large vase?” He pointed to the right.
I nodded. “That's called the Ace of Cups. Legend has it that when architect Nicola Salvi was commissioned to design the Trevi Fountain in 1732, a critical barber whose shop was directly across the street constantly berated his work. To get back at him, Salvi added this vase, blocking the man’s view of the project as a cheeky middle finger to the naysayer.”
“Is that true?” I asked, genuinely curious. I had already heard that story, but I pretended not to know. I wanted to please him, to let him know he succeeded.
“Well, it's a fun story, and I like to believe it is,” he replied with a smile, pulling me closer to the fountain.
“Here, take this,” he said, retrieving a coin from his pocket and handing it to me.
I was ready to toss it when he halted me.
“What are you doing? Not like this. Stand with your back to the fountain, toss the coin with your right hand over your left shoulder, but don't look back. Legend says that looking at the fountain while tossing the coin voids your wish.” I followed his instructions, closing my eyes as I made a wish.
“All done,” I said proudly. “Don't you want to toss a coin?” I added.
“My wish already came true.” His words melted me. And then we kissed. It was a perfect kiss, in a perfect place, with a perfect guy. Pure happiness filled all my senses, and I wished to stay still with him in that chaotic city, as if there were nobody else on earth.
Time was slipping away, and we needed to head home.
We stopped for a slice of pizza on our way to the car.
I had envisioned what a perfect date would look like, but this one exceeded all my expectations.
My feelings were so intense that I struggled to put them into words, unable to sort through the whirlwind of emotions.
As promised, he drove me home. The house was empty since my mom was at work, so I didn't need to explain why Zane drove me home. She had left some pasta for me in the fridge, but I wasn't in the mood to eat.
Being cautious, I decided to call Emily to catch up on what had happened at school. She was surprised to hear from me, and of course, the gossip had spread like wildfire. When she asked about my day, I told her about our trip to Rome. The downside was that I had missed the English test.
The following day, I forged my mom’s signature on the excuse slip.
It was easier to replicate her signature than my dad’s.
I didn't want to lie, but I felt I had no choice.
Everything went smoothly; my parents didn't suspect a thing, and at school, everyone bought my story about having a stomachache.
We tried to coordinate our schedules: Zane had capoeira practice on Tuesdays and Saturdays, so I asked Enzo to work on those days and Fridays. The arrangement made the other days available for us to spend time together.
Zane would come over, but only when one of my parents was home.
It was especially awkward when my dad was around since we had to keep the door wide open, and he would check in every ten minutes, just as he did with Marco.
My mom, however, was more relaxed and allowed us more privacy.
Zane even stayed for dinner a few times.
Jessica had a new boyfriend who was four years older than her. She often stopped by the coffee shop to chat whenever I had some free time. I shared all the details about Zane, our trip to Rome, and his visits to my house. She seemed fine with it as long as I was honest with her.
I wouldn't say our friendship was the same as it once was, but it had matured and evolved. While our conversations still revolved around guys 99% of the time, I was grateful to have her in my life. School would be ending soon, and who knew what our futures held?
I told my parents I was considering taking a year off to figure out my next steps, which mostly depended on what Zane would choose to do. They didn't exactly support my decision, leading to ongoing debates.
Emily was also trying to reconnect with me. When we last met, we had a heartfelt conversation that left us both in tears, reminiscing about how close we used to be. Friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and both require effort to maintain.
Zane hadn't taken me to his place yet, but we had hung out a few times with the Vipers at the lounge where Clous was DJ-ing.
It turned out that Clous was dealing with his own issues, stemming from his father's incarceration, which had left him troubled and reliant on drugs and smoking.
He wasn't a bad person, just someone deeply affected by his circumstances.
Only V seemed capable of keeping him in check.
Jake, on the other hand, was more like a pawn—secretly in love with V, who took advantage of that. They were just a group of troubled kids filled with anger against the world.
As much as I tried to connect with V, it didn't work out, and Zane reassured me that it was okay. I couldn't shake the feeling that V resented me, and I was at a loss for how to improve things.
At work, I was still making occasional mistakes, but thankfully, I hadn't caused any disasters lately, like poisoning someone or burning down the coffee shop.
Sadly, Enzo’s wife had passed away, and he was losing interest in running the place, even contemplating closing it down. Things had been chaotic at the shop, but I knew things would find a way to get better.
My relationship with Zane was primarily about discovering each other on a deeper level.
However, I found myself in a state of confusion as things seemed to stagnate.
I was more than ready to move forward; in fact, I felt prepared even before our first kiss.
The attraction between us was palpable—I was just as infatuated with him as he was with me.
Nearly a month had passed, yet I hadn't even seen him without a shirt since the capoeira performance.
My thoughts were consumed by dreams of him, my imagination running wild and difficult to restrain.
There were moments when I could sense his desire building beneath his clothes, and it left me feeling anxious and frustrated. It felt almost torturous.
I craved everything about him; I longed to become one with him in every conceivable way. I wanted to belong to him entirely. But it seemed that only time could grant me that wish.