Chapter 21
Iwake up with the same sick feeling I fell asleep to. I kissed Leo. I actually kissed him. And he pulled away. Every humiliating second replays in my head – the phone call with Mum, my tearful confession to Leo, me throwing myself at him like some desperate girl in a bad teen drama.
I groan into the pillow, smothering the memory.
Then I realize what I’m holding. Leo’s hoodie. Somehow, every night, I fall asleep near it – and every morning, I wake up with it in my arms, like a pathetic cuddle toy.
I toss it to the foot of the bed.
What was I thinking?
Actually, no – I wasn’t thinking. Because I clearly have no brain in my head. And yet, for one long moment, I even imagined he kissed me back, as though maybe it wasn’t just me.
Another groan. I yank yesterday’s jeans off the floor and pull on my jumper. My limbs are sluggish, like I’m moving underwater.
My phone buzzes with Mum’s name. She’s probably just checking I’m OK after our call last night. Being lovely. Being Mum. I should answer. I owe her that much.
‘Hi, Mum.’
‘It’s Grace.’
The regret that I’ve answered is instant. And she knows it. It’s why she’s calling from Mum’s phone and not her own.
‘Why are you refusing to meet Paola? It’s rude, Eves. She’s doing me a massive favour.’
I pull my knees to my chest. I can’t exactly say I was hoping she’d get bored calling.
‘I didn’t refuse to meet her. I told her I’d call back.’
‘Yeah, well, you’re acting suss. First you never video call or post anything, and now you’re acting like you don’t know when you’re free.’
‘I don’t! It’s full on, Grace. I was in the lab yesterday, too. On a Saturday.’
Is it worrying that I almost believe my own lies?
‘Well, that can’t be right,’ Grace says. ‘It was always closed on weekends when I was there. So annoying.’
‘Oh, silly me,’ I snap. ‘I forgot InterSTEAM has to run any changes past you first.’
‘Ha. Ha. Very funny,’ she says, dripping sarcasm. Then, in a friendlier tone: ‘But the science fair is still on Sunday, right?’
‘Yeah, in that big fancy building,’ I bluff, remembering the gazillion photos of her acing her presentation.
A pause.
‘Have you been in? Does it still have the brains in jars on the top floor?’
‘Yeah. Disgusting.’
‘Riiiight,’ she says slowly. ‘Well, send me a pic the next time you’re there. I want to see if it’s changed. And meet Paola soon, OK? I’ve half a mind to send her to your dorm to check up on you.’
I hang up. Great. Now I’ve got to dig out one of Griselda’s old photos, edit her out and put myself in her place.
Every time I patch one lie, another one rips open. All I wanted was a bit of proof that I’m good at art. Something to take home. Something to show my family I wasn’t wrong to choose this.
No way I can stay in the palazzo today. Not with Leo here. Not after last night.
I leave a scribbled note on the kitchen table: Gone sightseeing.
And that’s what I do. The city’s already moving like a tide, pulling everyone towards Piazza San Marco for the Volo dell’Angelo – the Flight of the Angel.
It should be magical. But instead it’s all noise and elbows and camera phones.
And I keep wondering if Leo’s told Veronica I lied to get on the course and that my parents don’t even know I’m here.
What if this was my one chance and I’ve ruined it, for what my parents think is a few scribbles and a boy who didn’t even kiss me back?
By the time I reach the edge of the square, a hush ripples through the crowd.
And there she is.
The Angel.
Lowered from the bell tower in a glittering costume, feathered wings outstretched.
But in my head, I’m the one dangling – suspended in mid-air with nowhere left to hide.
One snip and I fall. Straight back to Raeburn Academy and a future I don’t want. And Leo’s the one holding the scissors.