CRAVING U (The Rook Café) (18 page)

BOOK: CRAVING U (The Rook Café)
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“Exactly,” Marika responded.

“That’s enough of that!”  Paola,
ordinarily so slow to anger, lost her patience at these blasphemous words.  “I’m
not going to sit here and listen to this stupid nonsense.”

Marika felt her mother rise up from the
bed.  “Mama!” she called.

“I’m right here.”

Her daughter raised her face just enough
to show the fullness of her suffering to her mother, hoping that she would
guess the cause, so that Marika wouldn’t have to say the words herself.

“Are you in love with Matteo?”

Hearing the naked truth on her mother’s
lips brought on another wave of tears.

“And so?  What’s the big problem?”  She
took her in her arms.  “If you have been honest with each other, a bit of
distance won’t make any difference.”

“And if I haven’t been honest?” she
sobbed.  “Mama, you just don’t get it.  Distance is not the only problem.”

“It can’t be the lifestyle of Milan that
worries you so much, can it?”

“Yes, it can!” she moaned.  “And the
models, the nightclubs, the money, fame, success.”  She embraced her mother
ever harder.

“My love, trust me.  If what he says he
feels for you is genuine, none of that can get in the way.”  Her mother
smoothed her hair gently, shushing her.  “And if it ends, it won’t be because
of the city, or because of his new life, but because his feelings were never
true.”  And her own love was nothing more than a facetious flame, an illusion
that vanished into thin air.

“You’ve got it all wrong.  We aren’t even
boyfriend and girlfriend.  There’s nothing between us.”  Her voice was filled
with remorse.  “Maybe something was about to be born, something pure and
special, but now... he’s leaving.”

“You couldn’t have held him back in any
case.  It wouldn’t have been fair to him, nor to you, and you both would have
regretted it.”

“Can I come in?”  Her father’s voice
sounded cautious at the doorway, not sure if he could or even should enter that
room filled with tears and confessions.

The news about
San Carlo
’s interest
in Matteo, her Matteo, had hit Marika like a cold shower, a brick wall, a
surreal possibility that she could never, ever have imagined.  It was like
science fiction in its purest form.

Ferdinando tried to break the silence of a
scene that he had trouble understanding by saying, “It’s only a try-out. 
Nothing is certain.  There’s no guarantee that they’ll choose him for the team
once his trial period is over.”

Maybe there was still hope.  At the end of
the day, she could survive two months of purgatory... and then everything would
go back to normal.  The spectre of the major leagues would be gone.

“Though I have to say...,” her father
continued, “that the man from
San Carlo
gave the impression of being
quite confident about Matteo.  And the agent was quite frank about his
possibilities, and he doesn’t seem to be the type to bet on losing horses.” 
His eyes began to well up.  “I can already see him signing his first
professional contract.”

Game Over
!  Say goodbye to all of
her dreams.  “Wasn’t he being scouted by a team in Serie C, or at the most,
Serie B?  Some team here in the Vicenza area?”  She tried one last desperate
assault.  “What’s with this new team coming out of nowhere?”  Her voice became
harsh and angry.  “Thinking about pro teams in the Veneto was already a total
pipe dream.  But
San Carlo
?!”

“Who ever said anything about the Veneto
teams or the minor leagues?” her father asked, more confused than ever.

“Matteo!” she snarled with all of the
strength she had in her body.  “Matteo talked about them.”

“But he didn’t know anything about it, not
until tonight.  His parents were contacted by the coach, but they all decided
that it would be best if he heard nothing about it until the club
representatives could speak to him personally.”  He sat down tenuously on the
corner of the bed.  “The rest was just your imagination.  But aren’t you happy
for him?”  He looked into her eyes, and she could see how proud he was of
Matteo.  “It’s a golden opportunity.”

“Of course I’m happy for him. 
Can’t
you tell
?”  She just couldn’t be altruistic while her heart was being torn
from her chest.  “
It’s a nightmare!
”  She buried her head under a pile
of stuffed animals, gasping for breath.  She didn’t even notice when her
parents left the room, abandoning her to her tears, her sobs, her muffled
screams, and her bitter smiles, until she finally collapsed into a deep sleep.

She had not alerted anyone to the fact
that she would not be coming to the pizzeria that evening, but there was no
need.  Carlotta had understood everything from her interrogation of Dario, and
knew that Marika wouldn’t have any desire to celebrate that night.  The news
had already spread, and no one at
Jungle Jim’s
was worried about her
absence.  They were too busy drinking to Matteo’s health and success.  But the
guest of honor was not there either.  He had returned home with his family to
find his little brother Daniele waiting anxiously at the door for his brother,
his idol, the greatest soccer player he knew, the champion of the world.

“Leave your brother alone, Daniele, give
him some space!”  Their mother, alarmed by all of the frenetic excitement that
this news was creating, was trying to calm the waters and tone down the family
euphoria that clashed with the strained look on Matteo’s face.

From the very beginning, Mrs. Zovigo,
though obviously happy about the Milan club’s interest in her son, had held
great reserves about this new situation, in contrast to her husband, who was
acting as if he had just won the lottery.  In economic terms, it was a golden,
maybe even a platinum offer, but Delia was a simple woman with simple needs who
was wary of the way money could manipulate one’s reality.  When months earlier,
Coach Esposito had told her about such a potential offer, she had been shocked,
but it was the coach himself who had convinced her that Matteo was serious
enough and mature enough to handle such a situation.  Her worry had not
vanished since then, but she knew how much her son wanted this, how much he had
worked toward it, and how talented he obviously was.  This was his moment, and
only he had the right and the honor to choose it.

Chapter 8

MASKED MOON

 

It was a bleary and
lazy beginning of the week.  Marika started school at second period, and
avoided anyone who might want to talk about Matteo and his transfer to Milan. 
Even Carlotta, rendered more sensitive by Dario’s sound advice, left her alone
to digest the news.  In any event, she wouldn’t have known what to say to her
cousin.

In the classrooms, the news about
San
Carlo
’s interest in a kid from Orgiano was on everyone’s lips, and they all
competed to show who amongst them was closest to Matteo.  “He’s such a good
friend of mine,” was a claim made even by those who could not have picked him
out of a lineup.  Girls hoping to raise their level of popularity strutted
around saying things like, “We hooked up last year,” and , “He’s an amazing
kisser!”


Who the hell are all of these people
?”
the only person who really knew him asked herself. 
“Liars and hypocrites
.”

She dreaded the break after second
period.  As expected, Livia made an immediate appearance in the courtyard,
intent on using all of her tricks to insinuate suspicion and jealousy in Marika
about the future life of the new midfielder for that damned Serie A team... as
if that were even necessary.  “We missed you at
Jungle Jim’s
on
Saturday,” she said, lighting up a cigarette.


Oh I bet you did
,” was all Marika
could think.

“We all celebrated the news about
San
Carlo
.  My God, who can believe it?!”  She widened her eyes.  “What a shock
it was for everyone, even you!”  She was wallowing in her insecurities.  What
she meant to say was, “
You mean he never even told you about it?  You who he
always tells everything?
”  She continued.  “Maybe you’re not as important
to Matteo as you thought.”  She blew a long stream of smoke from her mouth.  “It’s
sad, huh?”  She put on her best act at looking sympathetic.  “You know, he told
Lucrezia that he can’t wait to move to Milan, but don’t worry about him... we’ll
always be here for you.”  It sounded like a threat.

Marika didn’t even bother responding.  She
felt empty.  Livia’s cruelty couldn’t touch her: she knew that every word was
like holy gospel, true to the last syllable, though Livia could have had the
decency not to say them.  Later, between classes, Marika didn’t even leave her
room, letting Carlotta wait for her in the hallway in vain.  She just sat
there, in front of her desk, staring out of the window vacantly and
motionless.  Turned off. 
Click
!

After school, absolutely everyone showed
up at
The Rook
just to be able to say that they had been there.  The word
had gotten out that this was where “Zovigo’s crew” hung out, and the place was
already packed even before school finished.  Everyone was waiting for an
appearance by the latest “recruit” of
San Carlo
: friends, acquaintances,
and total strangers, all ready to celebrate as if they had been friends since
birth.


But I set fire to the rain. Watched it pour as I touched your face.
Well, it burnt while I cried, ‘cos I heard it screaming out your name, your
name!
”  It was just past two in the afternoon when Marika’s smartphone
began to play the refrain from Adele’s
Set Fire to the Rain
, the
ringtone that best fit her mood of total confusion, not to mention the one that
on that day had been set for calls from Carlotta.

“Are you going to
answer that?” her mother called from the kitchen.

“No,” was her
only reply.  “
Leave me alone, all of you
!”  She ground her teeth.  “
Just
shut up!  Shut up!!
”  She took the annoying means of communication in her
hand and quickly wrote a text to her cousin:
“not comin 2 rook :-| dont wanna b there 4 the hypocrisy & the
a** lickin :-& OK?”

After reading the message, Carlotta
hurriedly called Dario to have him bring her to Palladio Road before he met up
with the others.

Paola opened the
door and let her in, offering to accompany her to Marika’s room.

“Don’t worry
about it, Aunt Paola,” she insisted.  “I know the way.”

Carlotta entered
to find Marika lying face up on her bed, surrounded by the throbbing sounds of
nu metal.  She lowered the volume, vainly hoping to start a conversation, but
it was hopeless.

Marika remained
in complete silence, moving only her eyes as she watched her cousin sit down
next to her.

Minutes of
deafening quiet followed, during which Carlotta used up all of her patience – which
was notoriously thin – waiting for a sign of life from her cousin.  “Hey!” she
yelled.  “You planning on barricading yourself in here for the rest of your
life?”

“That’s not a bad
idea, thanks.  I’ll consider it.  In the meantime, please spare me your efforts
to psychoanalyze me.  I won’t listen.”

“Marika, please...”
she begged.  Her cousin was acting like a totally different person.  “Let’s
talk about it.  It’s not really so bad.”

“Oh no?”  Spittle
flew from her lips as she said it.  “Are you sure?”

“It’s just a
try-out,” she said, highlighting the obvious.  “You don’t really think they’ll
sign him.”

“Oh they’ll sign
him all right.”  She just knew it.  She knew enough about soccer to be able to
judge Matteo’s talent, and she wasn’t going to be wrong about his value as a
player too.  “You know they’ll sign him.”

“And if they did?” 
She waited without success for an answer.  “Come on, no one’s died here!”  She
tried to startle her out of it.

“Again with the ‘no
one has died’ crap!” Marika yelled, seething with venom.  “You tell me,
Carlotta!  How would you feel if Dario was about to move to the center of all
the temptations of the world?  The fucking nightclubs, the money, the models?”

“You’re totally
exaggerating,” she replied, swallowing nervously.  “Aside from going to the
stadium, your memories of Milan are stuck in time from our school trips in
middle school.”  She tried to make it all a big joke.

“Except for the
fact that he’ll be an integral part of that world, and no longer an outsider
like the rest of us.”  She ignored her cousin’s argument.  “How many times have
we bitched about the relationships between soccer players and supermodels?  I
can’t have a place in that world, don’t you see?”  She could already imagine
the pictures of Matteo, caught with some bombshell with the perfect body, in
the gossip magazines.  “Can you really see me as a wag?”

Carlotta remained
silent.  Unfortunately, Marika’s vision of things made sense.

“You see?  You’ve
got nothing to say now, do you?  You’re not so sure of yourself any more,” she
concluded, frustrated.  She flopped back against her bed again.  “OK, fine, I’ll
admit it,” she said, her voice flat.  “I have no right to feel this way.  I’m
an outsider too.  I don’t have any claims on Matteo.  It’s just that I can’t
live without him.”  She smiled sadly.  “I’m just running my mouth now, aren’t
I.”

“Not at all.  I
totally understand.  Your venting makes total sense,” she said softly.  “It’s
just that I hate to see you this way.  It isn’t fair.”  She suddenly hugged
her.  “Please, don’t cry any more.”

“Don’t worry.” 
Her face was pallid and worn.  “I’m all out of tears.”

Now Carlotta
squeezed her even tighter.  “I want to ask you one thing, but you are free to
not answer if you don’t want.”

“Shoot!”

“Have you spoken
with him yet?”

“No.”  Marika
slipped from her cousin’s arms and sat down with her legs crossed on the
mattress.  “I haven’t seen him yet.  I haven’t called him either, and neither
has he.”

Her cousin let
out an unclear noise that sounded like a lament, before saying, “I don’t know
if it will make you feel any better, but Dario swore to me that Matteo
specifically asked him not to say anything about
San Carlo
to you
because he wanted to tell you about it personally.  He didn’t want anyone else
to let you know.”  This was all Carlotta knew about the situation.  “Then we
drove up to your house at the wrong moment and,” she paused, “the rest is
history.”

“So be it!” 
Livia’s insinuations continued to bounce about her head.  “At least I wasn’t
totally wrong about him.”

“Of course not.” 
Carlotta felt so badly for her.  “You shouldn’t have any questions on that
score.  There was something truly special between you two.”

“Awww, cut it
out!”  She interrupted her brusquely.  “I don’t want to hear it.”

“OK, sorry.  But
it is absolutely not true that you are not important to Matteo.”

“Then why can’t
he wait to leave town?  That’s what he said to Lucrezia.”  Marika got up too
quickly and lost her balance.  “You want to listen to some music?”  Without
waiting for Carlotta’s answer, she turned up the angry, cacophonous sounds from
before.  And they sat there together in silence, except for the violent and
obsessive guitar chords, waiting for that interminable afternoon to wane into
the sunset, without asking or even wondering what was going on at the same time
at
The Rook
.

The rest of the
week passed by slowly and awkwardly.  Marika avoided speaking to Matteo, and
kept from the places where she might accidentally run into him.  “
I’m being
egotistical, I know it.  I’m an insecure, spoiled bitch
,” she kept telling
herself.  But even though she was aware of how illogical and irrational her
behavior was, she was furious with him, and this made her feel guilty.  “
Instead
of celebrating, I’m wallowing in sadness and avoiding him like the plague
.” 
She beat herself up with continual regrets.  “
He doesn’t deserve to be
treated this way
,” her subconscious told her, “
as if being number one
was some sort of crime.
”  Not exactly
The Solitude of Prime Numbers
,
but still something to shun.  “
Why didn’t he tell me about
San Carlo
?” 
She had so much anger that it made her cold.  “
Maybe it all could have been
different.  Maybe I could have accepted it
,” she told herself.  “
But how
can I let him just walk away with a smile on my face and a slap on his back
when every cell in my body is tied painfully to him, and I can’t breathe when I
think of him being away from me
?!”

  She avoided
Livia and Lucrezia as much as possible at school, and ignored them when they
were near.  The following Monday, she forced herself to go back to
The Rook
,
just to try and hold back the surging flood of gossip caused by her prolonged
absence from the locale.  She got there late, accompanied by Carlotta and
Dario.  She had a pit in her stomach and was shaking like a leaf.  The place
had never seemed so foreign to her before.

When Matteo saw
her alight from the Mini Cooper, wearing her usual blue jeans, he instinctively
got up and left the group behind to come greet her.

Watching him draw
near, Marika felt her tension, her fear, and her insecurities melt away.  He
was just the same as always!  Bewitched by his aqua blue eyes that sparkled
with joy at seeing her, she had the illusion that nothing could ever change
between the two of them.

“Hey,” he said, a
bit timidly.  “Haven’t seen you in a while.”  There were so many things he
wanted to say to her, but he still hadn’t found the right words to express what
was going on inside of him.

She nodded
uncomfortably: his politeness was worse than a slap to the face.  Dario and
Carlotta wandered off, looking slightly embarrassed by the situation.

“I wish I had
been the one to tell you about
San Carlo
,” Matteo said, his voice warm
and sincere.  “I didn’t know anything about it myself until right after the
game with
Cambrai
.”

“You don’t have
to justify yourself.”  She didn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes.

“There’s been a
lot of talk about my deal with the club, but most of it is false.”  He smiled
tenderly at her.  “I’m going to be participating in a two-month training and
try-out period in April and May at the team’s center in Milan.  I’ve got about
one chance in a thousand to be chosen for the team.”  He stared at her.  “So
there’s no reason to get excited.”

“I also wanted to
clear some things up about the gossip surrounding me over these past few days.” 
Marika finally lifted her face to look at him directly: tactical error!  From
the second she began to contemplate his sweet, beautiful face, she had an
almost uncontrollable urge to cry.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about
San
Carlo
?”  She demanded an answer.  “You must have talked to me a trillion
times about talent scouts since September.”  She breathed in deeply while the
wind shook the dry branches of the trees.  “I always thought you meant
Cittadella, or Vicenza
....
”  She couldn’t look at him anymore.  “But Milan? 
Milan is like another planet!”

“I didn’t know
anything about Milan,” he said softly, shaking his head.

“But I’m happy
for you.  I really am.”  She could barely hold back the tears.  “It’s the
chance you’ve been waiting for.”

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