Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) (21 page)

I sigh, throwing my head back against the pillows and closing my eyes. I wish I could just go back to sleep for a few hours. Or days.

* * *

“No way!” Maura looks incredulous on my behalf as I recount the Pete debacle followed by the Lorenzo scenario on FaceTime. “What a douche!”

I nod in agreement.

“I still can’t believe he said those things to you. He must have been wasted,” she comments, almost to herself.

“Completely hammered.”

“Ugh. I’m sorry, Mia. That sucks.” Maura wrinkles her nose.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, at least you ran into Lorenzo. That was lucky.” She pulls her long, curly hair back from her face, piling it on top of her head and securing it with a clip. A few tendrils pop out, framing her face softly.

“Was it lucky? I looked like a pathetic mess. I cried to him.”

She shrugs. “That’s how you felt. No use feeling bad about being real, Mia.”

“I guess so.” I pick at a hangnail. Of course Maura wouldn’t think tears are the end of the world; she’s been uncharacteristically emotional since losing Adrian. If anyone would overlook a few tears, it would be Maura.

“Besides, it sounds like Lorenzo wants to get to know the real you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have wasted his time sitting with you and talking to you and making sure you got home okay.”

“That’s pretty much what Lexi said.”

“See?” Maura raises her eyebrows at me.

“I guess so. I just feel dumb.”

“Well don’t. There are worse things you could feel like an idiot about,” she murmurs, averting her gaze.

I bite my tongue, thinking her thoughts have turned toward Adrian. Poor Maura. She’s so torn up about his death, about losing him; she’s slowly changing in front of my eyes, losing herself completely, buried under grief and sadness and alcohol.

“Maura,” I begin hesitantly.

“I’m okay,” she cuts me off, distant tears gleaming in her eyes. “Really.” She smiles but it’s flat.

I sigh. “Maura.”

She shakes her head. “No, really, I’m fine. Actually, I gotta get going. I have practice in a few, and I need to finish an assignment first.” She gestures behind her to her bag for rowing practice. “Just see what happens with Lorenzo. And put Pete in his place.”

“I will,” I say but even to my own ears it’s unconvincing.

Maura snorts. “I’m serious, Mia. It’s about time you start standing up for yourself. If you don’t do it, no one else will. So tell him what you need to tell him. Don’t cave, or better yet, don’t even give him the time of day. He’s not worth it.”

I smile at her. “You’re right.”

“I know. Anyway, let me know how it goes.”

“’Kay. Thanks, Maura.”

“Anytime.”

“Talk to you soon. Good luck at practice.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, thanks. Later.”

“’Bye.” I hang up.

Snuggling farther into the pillows on my bed, I assess the situation. There’s only so many days I can avoid reality. And people. And showering … as Lexi pointed out earlier when she passed by my room.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to face Pete.

Unless I cut class completely.

Oh my God. Who am I?

* * *

When the bell rings to signal the beginning of class, I dread walking through the door and having to come face-to-face with Pete. What will I even say to him? What will he say to me? The ugly, harsh truth he threw in my face on Friday night still stings. I would have much rather skipped today, stayed in bed and watched Gilmore Girls on Netflix. Lexi laughed at me outright—not about Gilmore Girls, she was more than happy to participate in that afternoon activity—but she rightfully pointed out that we already did that on Saturday. And Sunday. Instead, she insisted I see Pete today, handle the situation head-on, and “nip this thing in the bud.”

Sigh.

I think one of the reasons why his words cut so deep, down to my core, is because I thought he was my friend. I thought he liked me for me. I thought he was someone who would be in my life even after this semester is over, when we’re back in the U.S.

I promised myself that I would hold my head high and strut through the classroom door with a confidence that I seldom possess, except for when I’m onstage performing. Then I can be a completely different person. In reality, I shuffle through the door as class begins, my shoulders rolled forward, my hair falling to hide my face from view.

When I look up, Pete Buchanan is staring straight at me.

I slide into my seat just as Professoressa calls out my name. She looks at me expectantly, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Scusa?” I ask politely.

“Are you unwell?”

“No, I’m fine,” I assure her in Italian, pasting a tight smile on my face.

She nods curtly, and I’m certain she doesn’t believe me.

Moments later, she turns to the whiteboard and jots down points for today’s agenda.

“Mia,” Pete whispers next to me. I can feel his breath on my cheek and see him leaning forward in my peripheral vision.

Don’t cave, Mia. Don’t give him the time of day.

“Oh come on, Mia. Don’t be like that. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was drunk and stupid and …”

“Pietro. Do you have something you would like to share with the class?”

“No, Professoressa. Scusa.”

“Mia, I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his tone contrite.

I don’t turn once to look at him. I pretend he doesn’t even exist. I don’t cave. I don’t give him the time of day.

Pete Buchanan, who?

Chapter Thirty-Five

Lorenzo

I hiss loudly when the hot espresso coats my tongue, burning my throat when I swallow. I shouldn’t even be awake this early, but I’ve been sleeping like shit ever since meeting with Rafaello, rehashing his words over and over in my mind each night. Now, at 6:00AM, I’m standing in the kitchen, my bare feet quiet on the marble floor, hoping Mama and Claudia wake up soon and find their way into the kitchen for their morning espresso. We need to talk. All of us. I’ve put this off for far too long, and now I’m regretting it.

The minutes tick by slowly. I shuffle back and forth in front of the large windows that overlook our garden. The day is gloomy, the chill of winter creeping in with the fall of the leaves. I should just go back to sleep, but what if I miss Mama and Claudia? Then I will have to wait until tonight, and I don’t want to carry this information around like the burden it is for one more day. I’ve reached my limit. They need to know about Anthony. They need to know that Benito is back in town.

“Enzo?” Claudia asks softly. “What are you doing awake?” She walks into the kitchen clad in yoga pants and a zip-up hoodie, her iPod and headphones clenched in her hand.

“Going to the gym?” I avoid answering her question.

She nods. “Is everything okay?”

I stare at her, stealing precious seconds before I change her life forever. We have a brother. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t tell her yet. She looks so worried about me, genuine concern in the tightness of her lips, empathy in her eyes. God, when did she become so sincere? Was she always such a caring sister? Did I miss seeing her compassion for others, her kindness, because I was blind to it? Or did she not show it toward me because I never appreciated it? Never appreciated her. I’m a shitty brother, yet here she stands, worried about whatever emotions are playing out across my face.

“Enzo?” Claudia asks again, stepping closer and placing a hand lightly on my forearm. “What is it?”

I shake my head, clearing my mind from all the unworthy thoughts taking up residence there. “Want an espresso?” I deflect again.

“Si,” Claudia says simply.

“Sit down.”

She watches me warily for a beat before perching on the edge of her chair, studying me carefully as I prepare her espresso. After I hand her the demitasse and sit down, we stare at each other in silence, the wide table separating us, an entire ocean of unsaid words, hesitant thoughts, and uncertain emotions.

Claudia raises the demitasse to her lips, takes a small sip, and sets it back down on the saucer. She raises her eyebrows at me expectantly.

Sighing deeply, I run my hand through my hair. This is it. Time to lay it all out there. My leg bounces lightly under the table. I’m momentarily relieved that Claudia can’t see my nervousness.

Deep breath, Enzo. Just tell her.

“Enzo?” Her voice is small, worry thick in her tone.

Fuck.

“Is it Mama?” Tears lace through her words.

Just tell her the truth.

“We have a brother.” I blurt it out and immediately curse myself for being so careless when I witness the shock freeze Claudia’s features.

“What?” she asks slowly as if she’s speaking to a small child. “What are you talking about?”

I sigh, hanging my head for a moment.
Start at the beginning.
I reach my arm across the table, clasping Claudia’s tiny hand in my own. Meeting her eyes, I speak slowly. “I went to see Rafaello.”

“When?”

“Weeks ago.”

A blaze of anger crosses her face. It quickly morphs into concern. “What did he say?”

I tell her everything I know.

* * *

“That snake!” Is Claudia’s first reaction when I finish relaying the information I received from Rafaello.

I hold my breath, unsure if she is referring to Papa, Benito, Rafaello, or our long-lost brother, Anthony.

“I can’t believe he’s Papa’s brother.”

I let out my breath slowly. Thank God. She meant Benito. I nod in agreement.

A small tear trickles down Claudia’s cheek, and she brushes it away absentmindedly as if she never acknowledged its presence. “I can’t believe this; I can’t believe Papa would do this. Lie to Mama all these years. Put her in this position. What was he thinking?”

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

“Ugh, I’m so mad! And I feel guilty about it because he’s not even here to confront, to defend himself.” Another tear rolls down her cheek. She closes her eyes, her fingertips massaging the center of her forehead.

I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. “You have every right to be mad. I’m pissed as hell.”

“We have to tell Mama.”

I nod. “I know.”

But then my breath catches in my throat, and I nearly choke as Mama’s slight frame waltzes purposely into the kitchen.

“Tell me what?”

Claudia sighs lightly. “Mama, sit down. Let me prepare you an espresso. Enzo and I would like to speak with you.”

I look up so fast my neck cracks. Whoa, my sister really has it together. How the hell did she check her own pain, her own anger so quickly? I watch as Claudia stands up, pushing Mama gently into the vacant chair. She prepares the espresso calmly, the only tell of her nervousness held in the tightness of her shoulders.

“What is it?” Mama asks.

Claudia hands the espresso to Mama and sits down next to me. She takes my hand in hers under the table and squeezes lightly. I flinch. Claudia smiles tightly at Mama. Her hand taps gently against my knee, forcing me to quit bouncing my leg. She gives me a pointed look and takes a deep breath.

“Lorenzo and I have recently learned that we have a brother,” she states clearly, presenting the issue of Anthony as a united front. She doesn’t even hint that I’ve kept this information from her for weeks. I squeeze her fingers in gratitude.

Then I watch as Mama’s face falls.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Mia

I slam my laptop shut, watching as the apple light fades to dark. Pushing back from my desk, I stand and collapse on my bed, frustration seeping from my pores.

“Tough day?” Lexi asks from the doorway. How does she always manage to show up at the worst possible times? Or the best, depending on how you look at it.

“The topic and outline of my partner project is due in two days,” I grumble, keeping my eyes closed.

“Okayyy?”

“Pete is my partner,” I remind her.

Lexi laughs. Like really laughs, from her stomach.

I look up sharply, propping my elbows behind me to support my weight. “You’re kidding right? This isn’t funny! It’s a disaster.”

Lexi rolls her eyes and plops down in my computer chair. She reminds me of Lila, and I long terribly for home, for my friends, for the predictability of my old life. I messaged Lila several nights ago to check in on her, see how she’s handling everything with Cade. Still no response.

“Stop being dramatic,” Lexi advises, pulling her long legs up and tucking her knees under her chin. She wraps her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest, and regards me thoughtfully. “Pete’s a douche,” she states obviously.

“I know.”

“But it’s school, so you’re just going to have to put your differences aside and figure out how to work together. I mean it’s a project; get together once, divide up the work, and meet after you both complete your individual parts to make sure it all flows. Really, you could probably do everything over email without ever getting together. Do whatever you’re comfortable with, but don’t let your grade suffer because of that dick. I would be supremely disappointed in you Amelia Petrella.”

I laugh at her serious expression. And her use of my full name. It’s true though. I shouldn’t let my grade suffer because I’m embarrassed about the way things with Pete turned out. Ugh. Who am I? I would never let my grade drop because of a freaking boy. Stupid Pete.

“Well?” Lexi prompts.

“Yeah, I know you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Mia.” Paola knocks softly on the door, peeking her head inside. She smiles lightly, a knowing look in her eyes. “There’s a boy at the door for you.”

I sit up straight, my mouth open in shock.

Lexi stands up. “No way. Is it Lorenzo?”

Paola frowns a little, her eyes flashing up to meet mine as she shakes her head. “No, he says his name is Pete.”

Lexi sits back down, and I groan. Stupid Pete.

* * *

“I really am sorry,” Pete apologizes again, leaning over to lightly touch my wrist.

We’re sitting at a café across the street from my apartment. No way was I letting Pete come inside where Lexi and Paola, and probably even Gianluca would eavesdrop shamelessly.