| |
ON OUR MORNING WALK to the bus stop, Giovanni didn’t say much. He shuffled his feet while I prattled on. Something serious captivated his mind, reminding me of the state he was in Saturday night.
“Giovanni, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” he said, obviously distracted.
Hooking my arm through his, I led him in the opposite direction of our bus stop to a peaceful park. I rested on the first unoccupied bench we came across. Slouching down beside me, he studied his vacant hands with a guarded expression.
“Joy, it is okay. We do not need to talk about it.” He rolled his palms together.
A woman pushing a baby stroller rushed past us, scattering a couple of pigeons in her path. Her burgundy hair gleamed in the sunlight breaking through the trees.
“No, but you want to anyway,” I said. “I can feel it. I meant what I told you before. I want us to be able to talk about anything. I know it’ll help you feel better. Is it what you wanted to tell me the other night?”
His eyes widened; the only confirmation offered.
“Has it got something to do with school or the rumors Imani started about us? ‘Cause I can take care of her today,” I said, punching the palm of my hand and glaring at him like I meant business.
Shaking his head, he gave me a sad half-smile.
Since neither of us were going anywhere, anytime soon, I leaned back. I pulled my feet under the bench to make way for a balding, middle-aged man and his robust little pug with a severe under-bite.
“My papá, he lost his job and my ma lied to me about it. Remember that day when we heard them arguing? That was when it happened. We will have to move if he cannot find another one soon. I do not want to move away. Not now.” He frowned at the ground. “I do not want to start again anywhere else.”
“Your dad’s super smart. I’m sure he’ll find a job fast.”
“We are not citizens here.” Giovanni rubbed his palms together. “He must find a job in sixty days or we have to move back to Italy.”
“But didn’t you tell me that his friend offered him one?”
Giovanni’s Adam’s apple shifted upward when he gulped. “My ma says he is not a good man.”
Giovanni’s family’s dilemma left me speechless. However, when his eyes drifted to mine and a slow smile graced his lips, I worried his despair had actually made him lose his mind. One moment he was sad and depressed over his father’s unemployment, and the next minute, he was grinning at me like they’d suddenly won the lottery.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“They are talking about us in school?”
Surely, he didn’t consider that good news. But was he really oblivious to it?
“Everyone thinks we’re an item,” I mocked with air quotes. “It’s so stupid. Imani’s tryna get back at me for putting her in her place last week. But now random girls keep interrogating me about it.” His smile turned into a snarl at the mention of them. “Sorry I brought it up,” I said with a laugh. “I thought you knew. If they paid any attention, they’d see how much of a liar Imani is.”
“I can see why they think that,” he admitted after mulling it over for a second.
I shifted uncomfortably under his unwavering stare.
“Guys cannot be friends with girls without people wondering about it,” he continued. “When they are attracted to each other, people notice.”
“What? Nobody said anything about attraction.” I laughed nervously.
“They can see it in the way you look at me.” He watched me from the corner of his eye and poked me in the side.
I stopped his hand before he tried again. “How do I look at you?” I said, dumbfounded and embarrassed by his conclusion.
“Like you like me.”
“I do like you, but that doesn’t mean I wanna get with you.”
“Then, it is my fault they think that way.”
I glared at him for getting me worked up for nothing. People were forever reading me wrong, which is why learning that I wasn’t the incidental source for our sudden rise to fame let me rest a little easier.
“Wait. You better not tell me you started the rumors.”
“Lilly likes me,” he said, scratching the side of his neck.
“So. What’s she gotta do with anything? Everyone likes you, remember?”
Shaking his head, he said, “She sits next to me in Biology class. I told her you are my girlfriend so she would not bother me anymore. It worked.” He shrugged like it was no big deal and rolled the hair at his temple anxiously between his fingers. “I‒I want you to be my girlfriend. Please do not tell her the truth.”
My mind raced a mile a minute. I blinked stupidly at him.
Craving a moment to get my head together, I stood from the bench and turned around.
Instead of telling the girl he wasn’t interested in her like anyone else would have, he lied, using me as his cover, as if it were anyone’s business whether we were together or not.
I had no idea how to feel about it. Having to put on a show for the kids at school every day and be convincing enough to deceive them seemed like more trouble than it was worth. Then again, since we’d been hanging out, he hadn’t complained about getting pinched, and the rude comments to him lessened as well.
I rubbed the owl on my necklace and faced him again. “We’ve got two-and-a-half months left before summer vacation,” I said pensively. “But even if we set the record straight, it won’t matter. They’ll go on believing what they want regardless.” I plunked down beside him again. “Okay. We can pretend...without kissing and stuff. I’m not that desperate to prove it.”
“I do not want to pretend,” he whined. “I like you more than a friend.” My deafening heartbeat muffled his voice. “Since the first time I saw you. You are everything I want.” He waited for me to parrot his declaration back to him, but how could I?
The cool morning air did nothing to stifle the heat roasting me alive.
“I think you are the most different-beautiful girl I ever see.”
I frowned in confusion. Different-beautiful? What was that supposed to mean?
“You like my eyes, remember?” he reminded me.
“Uh, I...”
Giovanni perused my face for further signs of life, as if the conversation topic wasn’t enough on its own.
What was I saying? I lost it. All I had to contribute was nervous laughter as he cupped my face in his hands and batted his long eyelashes like a creepy doll. His playfulness faded as he let his gaze fall to my mouth.
I freed myself before he did something crazy. “We should go. It’s getting late.” I jumped to my feet and paced, waiting for him to stand. He stayed put.
“Joy, please.”
“No! I mean, look at you. You’re like...sickeningly gorgeous.” He ran his fingers through his hair, beaming victoriously like he had won some sort of prize. “Come on. You know I’m not the kind of girl someone like you would ever be interested in.”
“What are you saying? I told you before. I have been attracted to your personality and beauty for the last two years.” Standing from the bench, he approached me with caution and grabbed hold of my hands. “Give me a chance. Please. We could go on a...” Narrowing his eyes in deep thought, he struggled to pull a word loose from his mind. “Appuntamento (Ah-poon-tah-men-toh). Appointment.”
“An appointment? Are you sick?”
“No.” Giovanni frowned and, rubbing his forehead vigorously, finally worked it out. “Okay. You know when a boy and a girl go to eat food and then go to see a movie...”
“You mean a date?” My voice cracked at the thought.
“Yes!”
The weirdness from our first day together crashed into my mind.
“Let’s go on a date,” he announced.
I tried to swallow the lump growing rapidly in my throat with no success. Maybe he meant a friend date. Was that even a thing?
Uncomfortable with the alternative he was likely implying, I reasoned with him.
“We’re friends,” I said, gently reclaiming my hand and silently cursing the universe for trying to jar me out of my latest comfort zone.
“I like to be your friend too. We can still be friends. I know that to go out with you will be fun. That is all I want.” He paused to swallow his nerves. “Can we try it for today? If it does not work or you do not like me, I will not ask again. I promise.” He spoke slowly, like his life hung in the balance.
I rubbed the cramp in my chest and looked toward the path we traveled to get there. “We’re gonna miss the bus.”
“Please.”
I frowned at the ground between us and let the singing birds fill the void of silence.
Every romantic word from his mouth drew out my long-held fears for the future. I never wanted to fall for anyone or make someone catch feelings for me. Of course, I wondered what it would be like to fall asleep linking hands with someone or kiss the lips made for mine a million different ways. But I never expected anyone would want to turn any of my daydreams into reality. In real life, there was nothing scarier. Nothing.
With all I had seen of the bitter, messy ends to romance for most of my seventeen years of life, sinking a toe in the quicksand of love terrified me. I’d suffered through it before in a non-romantic way, and it killed me.
“I do care about you,” I admitted. “And I love hanging out with you. You’re the first person in a long time who lets me be myself without judging me for not being enough.”
He inched his way to me, and encircling my body in his arms, he said, “You are more than enough. It is I who am not enough.”
The final cramp split my heart in two. I hugged him back. “I–I don’t know what to do.”
“Have fun with me.” His voice echoed through his body.
I wriggled free and trekked the path leading deeper into the park.
“Joy, wait.” Giovanni hurried to my side.
Pinching the skin on the back of my hand, I tried to hold back the nerves tingling through me. “I—I need to think...without you watching me. Would you give me a minute?”
Halting his steps, he backtracked to the bench to wait patiently for my return.
I couldn’t get away fast enough.
Anybody else would have melted into a puddle at his feet to learn of his feelings. Why couldn’t I be one of them? The voices in my head steadily refused to let me believe that wonderful lie.
“No one could ever want you,” a thousand overlapping voices shouted. “Don’t do it, Joy. Don’t do it. Once you get closer, he’ll leave you like Elijah.”
“Shut up,” I growled.
An old lady passed me on the tree-lined walkway, questioning my sanity with raised eyebrows and wide, bulging eyes.
The voices subsided, but their impressions were everlasting. It didn’t matter how I felt about him. I knew why he’d chosen me. I didn’t put him on a pedestal like the other girls, and I made him comfortable. It was that simple, no matter what he said.
Raising my eyes to the tree canopy stretching above my head, I sighed. Why was life so weirdly complicated?
Perched on a branch slept a tiny owl. I studied the brown and beige-colored body and the angular slits of his closed eyes in disbelief before snapping a picture. As I zoomed in on the bird’s adorable face with my phone, his pretty yellow eyes opened and cursed me for disturbing him. I backed away with silent apologies. Could the owl’s presence have been some mysterious sign from the universe approving of the shift in our relationship?
The longer I pondered using a bird as a basis to make the decision for me, the more I realized how insane I truly was. Poor Giovanni. Why’d he have to like me?
He rose slowly from his seat and exhaled a breath, relieved to know I hadn’t abandoned him.
“Hey.” I rolled my sweaty palms on my jeans.
A hopeful smile framed his lips, even though his confidence hung by a fragile thread. “Hey.”
“You coming?” I nodded casually to the lane ahead and wrestled with my face to give the illusion of calm. I hoped I achieved it because if he knew the chaos reeling through my brain, he’d run the other way, realizing what a lost cause I was. I preferred to ease him out of his feelings for me rather than traumatize him.
Tension hunched his shoulders as he crossed his arms and joined me on our stroll toward home. “So, what is your decision?”
My lips parted to speak, but fear anchored my tongue. Shaking my head, I tried again. “I–I would love to have fun with you...if you haven’t changed your mind.”
He smiled as wide as he could with his mouth closed. His hands fell to his sides and lightly brushed the back of my hand. “Does that mean you are my girlfriend?” he asked, pocketing his hands.
“Can’t―we see how the day goes first, like you said?”
He nodded hesitantly, avoiding my eyes so I wouldn’t notice the way the tears gleamed in his like glass.
“I think the idea of love and romance is...sweet and beautiful,” I told him, hooking my arm through his. “But I don’t wanna end up like my parents: miserable and lonely in love. It’s one of my biggest fears.”
“But only you have the control of your destiny.”
Maybe that had always been true for him. I knew nothing about controlling my destiny. It always controlled me. No matter how hard I would fight, I could never win.
“I’m afraid to risk it. I need time to wrap my head around this. Maybe it’ll help me see the possibilities a little clearer.”
HIS ROOM WAS NO-MAN’S-land. In light of his feelings for me, plus Mom’s and Selena’s stories about boys, I lingered outside the door.
Noticing my wariness to step inside, he asked, “Are you afraid of me?”
“No!” I folded my arms.
He could tell I lied. “Come in. We are friends, remember. Relax a little.”
But we weren’t new friends like before. The energy had shifted between us. I found myself doubting everything I knew.
I entered the sanctuary of his room under the evil glares of animè characters in mid-air fighting stances from the posters on his wall.
Try to relax, I chanted in my head.
As I moved toward his dresser, I came across the crumpled drawing I had done of him last week. A pair of tortoiseshell frames lay on top.
“You wear glasses?”
“Yes,” he said, perusing his closet for something to wear.
“How blind are you?” I asked.
“I cannot see far away.”
“Do you mind if I try them on? I’ve always wanted to wear glasses.”
Giovanni directed me to the mirror. Peering through the lenses made my eyes ache. The frames were humongous for my face anyway.
I stared at the boy behind me with suspicion. “Hold up. Are your contacts colored, or are your eyes really that color?”
He laughed and turned me to him. “What do you think?” Opening his oval eyes wider, he tried to keep a straight face while letting me examine them closely.
“I can’t tell.”
“My eyes are real.”
“Would you tell me if they weren’t?” I countered.
“I never lie to you.” His smile eased away.
I returned his glasses to their rightful place and looked closer at the pictures he had taped around the mirror’s edge on the back of the door—three photos of us from Saturday night. Out of all the time we’d spent together, me fast asleep against him while he grinned and posed proudly from two days ago was the moment he chose to capture with his phone and print off.
Taking photos of your unsuspecting crush was no new concept. Yet my brain steadily refused to accept seeing myself fulfilling that role for anybody, him especially.
My lips parted to question him about them, but before I could form a word, a terrifying sound echoed around me. I ducked for cover, remembering the rough texture of the concrete against my face as I tucked my chin into my chest and awaited more gunfire to ring out.
“It was the door. I am sorry, Joy,” he soothed, crouching low and peeling my hands from my ears, both of us confused for different reasons.
In his attempt to remove his shoe, he’d lost his balance and fell into the closet door, banging it into the wall behind it.
The tears brimming my eyes slipped out as I squeezed them shut. My heart beat wildly, dispersing the adrenaline through my veins.
“We almost got shot yesterday,” I said with a quivering voice. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead with a shaky hand.
“What? Where?”
“In my old neighborhood.”
He pulled me firmly into his arms. “Are you sure you are okay?” he said into my hair.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I just―I don’t know.”
Forcing a smile, I shrugged him off, sprung to my feet, and reacquainted myself with my prior distraction out of necessity. “These pictures could’ve been better if I was awake, ya know.” I rubbed my arms to warm up and tried to slow my breathing.
“They are perfect the way they are.” Locking his sights on me, he removed his other shoe, gently lowered it inside of his closet, and undid the top buttons of his royal blue polo shirt—one half of our boring school uniform.
“I’ll wait downstairs.” I started toward the door.
With my body oversaturated with adrenaline, I could think only of the insatiable urge to run as far as my trembling legs could carry me.
“No. Please stay. It will not be long,” he insisted. “We can talk while I change.”
I closed my eyes and prayed it would pass. Drawing in one fortifying breath after another, I inhaled the faded remnants of that familiar springtime cologne still scenting the air. Hmm. Sweet aromatherapy.
“So, what do you wanna do now?” Forgetting he was changing, I almost turned to face him until I heard a zip. I gulped.
Giovanni moved in front of me to show off his street clothes: dark, fitted jeans and a light denim shirt. “We could do our favorite things together. What do you like to do?” he asked with an eager grin.
“Do...you like dancing?”
“I am not a good dancer,” he confessed shamelessly.
“That doesn’t matter. I can teach you.”
I had already begun planning which dances to teach him, but he burst my dream bubble. “I do not want to stay here. What do you like to do outside?”
“Taking pictures. Ooh! We can do photoshoots around the city! Have you gotten to check out any of the main sights since you’ve been here?” Lowering myself onto the edge of the bed, I toyed with my owl pendant while he rolled the sleeves of his shirt three-quarters of the way up.
“I went with my parents to see the Statue of Liberty one time, but my ma, she will not do any more tourist things.”
“Why not?” I tapped my foot anxiously.
“When we were on the ferry going back from the Statue, a bird bombed her, and caca got on her coat and the side of her face!” Giovanni’s smile was contagious as he relived the memory. “It was so funny. It was a lot! I laughed, and she told me to stop, but...she had caca on her face.” He pointed to his cheek and broke with laughter again. “She was so angry and tried to throw some of it at me, but when I moved out of the way, it hit a woman behind me. The woman did not even notice. My papá told her he would tell her, and she got afraid.” With eyes still smiling, he added, “I forgot about that.”
“You guys are so mean. Your poor mom!”
His smile faded as he started toward me. A few tiny strides and he had me cornered on his bed. I looked away, suddenly unsure of what to do. The look in his eye warned me to get out of there.
“We could check out the Top of the Rock and Central Park. But I wanna stop at Selena’s first so I can change too.” I jumped up, desperate to escape.
Once my hand gripped the knob, Giovanni called my name. I didn’t want to face him. His hand on my shoulder obliged me to anyway.
Pressing my sweaty palms to the front of my khakis, I forced myself to breathe, to focus on him, all the while doubting my ability to keep from unraveling before his eyes worse than moments ago.
I froze in place as his fingers traced the curve of my cheek. The heat from his touch increased the anxiety bubbling around my heart until it felt like bursting. Yet, he proceeded. Against all of the warning signs my face and body threw his way, he proceeded.
The instant his lips met mine, hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I fell into his chest.
“Joy.” A sigh echoed through him. “Talk to me,” he said, stroking my hair.
I was stuck. How could I separate from him without him seeing me cry? I used the back of my hand to dry my face in incremental movements, unwittingly drawing his suspicions.
“Bella, are you crying?” he whispered. His roving hand moved from my hair to my face and scraped a few tears in the process.
I turned away to stop him from looking at me and covered my face for good measure.
“Why are you crying?”
“I’m not ready for this right now.” My hands muffled my voice. With my back still to him, I shouted, “I can’t stop shaking!” I held out my quaking hand to show him. The tears soaking my face refused to quit, grating my nerves that much more.
Petting my hair, he said in a strained whisper, “Forgive me, Joy. Please do not cry. I–I will not do it again.”
Grasping my hand, he led me into the bathroom where he blotted what was left of the moisture on my cheeks with tissues.
“I–I want you to,” I clarified. “Just not right now. My body’s still in flight mode from thinking of the gunshots earlier, and I can’t t–turn it off. It’s so annoying.” I rushed to his room and retrieved a hair tie from my bag.
When I returned, he’d settled along the edge of the tub and wrung his hands. I washed my face and recouped my senses.
So much for not scaring him away.
“Maybe I should just go home.” I looked to the ceiling to avoid another wave of tears. “I–I’m sorry. This is what I was afraid of,” I forced out, defying my wrinkling chin. “I can’t even have a first kiss without screwing it up.”
Towering over me, he said, “Please do not go. You do not need to prove to me anything.” He held me. His sigh warmed my ear. “Every time we are together, I think about kissing you, but if you are not ready—”
I squeezed his body tighter. “Can we try again?”
Leaning away, Giovanni studied my eyes, no doubt searching for warning signs to abort the mission. “You are ready now?” He smoothed my cheek with the back of his hand.
I wasn’t, but I wanted to be.
As my eyes drifted to his lips, I nodded. Giovanni hovered centimeters above his target when the front door slammed shut. I stiffened in his arms. Footsteps clomped through the living room.
Flicking off the bathroom light, he ushered me into his room and closed the door with care.
“It is my father,” he whispered.
The footsteps trailed up the stairs and into the bathroom. Giovanni cracked his door to make sure the coast was clear and waved me ahead of him. I tiptoed downstairs quickly and quietly. Giovanni did too. Mr. Vitali belted out a few notes while the water spiraled down the drain. The bathroom door sprang open just as we reached the landing two feet from the exit. We could almost taste freedom, but if we made a go for it, his father would’ve spotted us from the top of the staircase.
We dashed through the dining room to the kitchen on tiptoes, barely making our escape through the back door in time.
Giovanni laughed. “That was fun,” he said as we hurried across the lawn and hopped the chain-linked fence.
My heart pounded in my eardrums. “I thought he was gonna catch us.”
Taking my hand, he led me across the narrow grassy strip—his neighbor’s backyard—behind his house. He stopped me from walking and stared at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the excitement. This was gonna be it, my first kiss. I tried to contain my smile.
“Hey, you two. Get outta my yard! This is private property,” a coarse woman’s voice shouted at us from a window before our lips touched.
We tore off running alongside the lady’s house until we reached the sidewalk on 172nd street. Giovanni was content to try again out there in the open, but I held him back.
“I thought you were ready,” he said.
“I was, but I don’t want an audience.” I spotted four people around us. A man trimmed his hedges, a young woman got in her car, and two kids our age crossed the street together. Of course, none of them were paying attention to us, but I wasn’t about to change that.
“I’d rather wait for the perfect moment,” I said. “Without interruptions.” I poked him in the side and laughed at his reaction.