Chapter 24
Matteo
“TUA MAMMA è a casa?” Is your mom home?
I looked over at Bianca and grinned. “Nope. è andata a Milano con mia sorella a prendere delle botti.” Nope. Drove up to Milan with my sister to pick up barrels.
“E il tuo papà?” And your dad?
“Fuori tutto il giorno.” Out all day.
She bit her bottom lip, eyes glinting. “Quindi abbiamo di nuovo la casa tutta per noi…” So we have the house all to ourselves again…
I didn’t say anything, just reached for her hand and tugged her to me over my Vespa, kissing her slowly and deliberately. My heart was already hammering, just thinking about spending the day in bed.
Last week had been the first time, for both of us.
We hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t even talked about it.
But we were alone in the house, and the moment had felt right.
Bianca and I had been together a few months now.
After Izzy decided to stay in Cambodia after last summer, it took me six months to move on.
Then Bianca made it easy. Everything about her was easy.
But it wasn’t only the physical stuff. Like today, she’d showed up at my Saturday morning football practice and sat on the bleachers, smiling like it was worth getting up early to watch me play.
I handed her the extra helmet I’d started to keep strapped to the handlebars and tossed my cleats into the storage compartment under the seat before straddling the scooter.
She got on behind me, wrapped her arms tight around my stomach, and we took off.
The breeze was warm, the air smelled like crushed rosemary, and the late-morning drive around winding roads tasted a lot like freedom.
Things were good, like maybe I was finally living the way I should. Final year of high school, hot girlfriend, everything coming together.
Then we pulled into my driveway. And everything fell apart.
There was someone sitting on the front lawn, cross-legged in the grass, picking at a cluster of daisies like she belonged there.
Izzy.
My chest locked up.
Bianca leaned forward, squinting. “Chi è quella?” Who is that?
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just pulled up to the top of the long driveway, gravel crunching under the tires, and stared at the girl on the lawn.
Izzy looked up and smiled. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and stood slowly, brushing off her jeans like she hadn’t just risen from the dead.
I was angry, but I couldn’t help but notice her hair was longer.
Sun-lightened. She looked older, but somehow still the same.
She smiled again, and my heart lurched in my throat.
I parked and swung my leg over the bike. “What are you doing here?”
“We moved back.” She twirled a daisy in her hand. “A few days ago.”
Bianca stepped down beside me and took off her helmet. “Wait, you’re Isabella, yes? His sister’s friend?”
Izzy held my eyes as she answered. “Yeah. I came over looking for her.”
“She’s not home,” I said flatly. “Won’t be back for hours.”
Izzy shrugged like she didn’t notice my attitude—either that or she didn’t care. “I’ve got nothing else to do. Mind if I wait?”
I looked at Bianca. She gave me a small, uncertain shrug, like your call. My stomach twisted. I didn’t want Izzy inside. I didn’t want her around at all. But I also couldn’t bring myself to make her walk away.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Sure.”
Inside, the house was quiet. Bianca walked ahead, kicking off her sneakers with familiarity and heading to the kitchen. Izzy moved more slowly, glancing around like she’d forgotten what life here looked like.
I shut the door behind us and spoke to Izzy. “You can wait in the living room.”
She nodded and wandered that way, while I went in search of Bianca. I found her leaning against the kitchen counter. She whispered, “Immagino che i nostri piani siano cambiati.” I guess our plans have changed.
I shook my head. “No, non lo sono. Andiamo in camera mia.” No, they haven’t. Let’s go upstairs to my room.
“Non possiamo andare in camera tua, sai, quando quella ragazza è qui.” We can’t go to your room to, you know, when that girl is here.
That’s exactly what part of me wanted to do—go have loud sex with my hot girlfriend so Izzy had to listen to her moan my name. But the other part knew Bianca was right. And maybe deep down, I knew I’d never do that to Izzy either, and it was only the anger talking.
“Allora, cosa vuoi fare?” I asked. What do you want to do, then?
“Non lo so. Preparo del tè freddo e ci sediamo fuori nella loggia?” I don’t know. Why don’t I make us some iced tea and we can go sit outside in the loggia?
“Va bene.” Fine. I frowned. “Ma tu siediti. Lo preparo io.” But you go sit. I’ll make it.
My hands shook as I turned on the water to fill a pitcher.
After, I opened the fridge and stared into it like answers were hiding behind the mayonnaise and yesterday’s leftovers.
To my right, I heard footsteps. I didn’t have to look out the window to know they didn’t belong to Bianca.
I stared at the hallway, hesitating, trying to talk myself out of following, but it was no use.
Muttering a string of curses, I followed the footsteps to the bathroom.
I knocked lightly, and the door creaked open like she’d been expecting me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, voice low, as I walked in.
Izzy turned on the water and started washing her hands. Catching my eyes in the mirror, she tilted her head. “You look different.”
“Yeah, well, a lot changes in a year. Especially when you don’t know what happened to the other person because dey stopped writing back.”
Her smile turned sad. “I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already had.”
I scoffed. “So da way to do that was to disappear and never write back? Because dat made me feel fuckin’ fantastic. It’s been almost a year, Izzy.”
“It doesn’t feel that long.”
“It does to me.” I shook my head. “It felt like forever. Every day I rushed home and waited for a letter. For months.”
She flinched. “I know. I’m sorry.”
A long silence stretched between us. It might’ve been an eternity since I’d seen her, but the memories were still just beneath the surface. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Izzy smiled. “I’m happy for you. She’s very pretty.”
“Are you?” My eyes narrowed. I was angry and wanted to wipe the smile from her face. “Because you’re interrupting my plans for da day. To fuck my girlfriend.”
That did it. Her smile fell. She twisted the knob on the faucet and grabbed a towel, haphazardly drying her hands. “I should go. This was a mistake.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Izzy brushed past me and yanked the door open. I followed her down the hall and walked straight into Bianca. Her face told me I hadn’t been talking as softly as I’d intended.
“Dovrei andare,” she said and turned on her heel. I should go.
“Bianca—” I started, but she held up a hand.
“Non sono arrabbiata. è solo…non voglio essere la ragazza intrappolata nella storia incompiuta di qualcun altro.” I’m not mad. I’m just…I’m not gonna be the girl stuck in the middle of someone else’s unfinished story.
“Mi dispiace. Non le ho chiesto di venire.” I’m sorry. I didn’t ask her to come.
Bianca smiled sadly. “Lo so. Ma non le hai nemmeno chiesto di andare via.” I know. But you also didn’t ask her to leave. She grabbed her bag, slipped her shoes back on, and walked out without another word.
The door clicked shut, and I stood there, trying to decide what the hell to do next. After a few minutes, I ran for the door and pulled it open, only to find Izzy standing there.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough,” I said.
“I don’t either. But maybe in time it will be. I’m not going anywhere.”