Love & Gelato (33 page)

I literally wanted to be anywhere else.

When our train arrived in Florence it was after four o'clock. Ren had dozed off again, and his phone kept vibrating spastically on the seat next to him like some kind of giant bug. Finally I leaned over and took a look. Text message from Mimi.
Ouch.
Was he going to tell her about me kissing him? If so, I'd better brush up on my street-fighter moves. I was going to need them.

Ren opened his eyes. “Here?”

“Here. Your phone's been going off.”

“Thanks.”

He checked his messages, his hair hooding his eyes. As everyone around us gathered up their stuff, I picked up the journal and held it tightly in my hands. It had been one of the longest days of my life and I felt like I was wrapped up in a big, sad cocoon. I couldn't believe I had to add to it by going back to the cemetery and telling Howard what I knew.

The ride back to the cemetery was silent. Brutally silent. Everyone we passed seemed to be in the middle of a lively conversation, which made the blank space between Ren and me even more painful. I was pretty much a wreck. But I was angry, too. Yes, I'd messed up, but did that mean we couldn't even be friends anymore? And why did I have to meet Matteo and lose Ren all in one day? Don't most people get the luxury of spreading their life's drama over a couple of years?

When we finally pulled up to the cemetery a big bus of people was unloading in the parking lot, and they all stared at us like we were part of the attraction. Howard stepped out of the visitors' center and waved to us.

At the sight of him my insides froze and then shattered, but I managed to wave back. Even smile. What was he going to say?

“To the house?” Ren asked.

“Yeah.”

He zipped up the road and a few seconds later pulled into the driveway, then turned off the scooter.

I climbed off the back and handed him my helmet. “Thanks for helping me, Ren. It wasn't great, but at least now I have some answers.”

“Happy to.” It was quiet, and we looked at each other for a moment. Then he looked down, starting up the scooter again. “I hope everything goes okay with Howard. It's going to be all right. He really cares about you.”

His voice sounded like
good-bye
and I felt my throat tighten. “Maybe we could go running tomorrow?”

He didn't answer. Instead he walked the scooter around in a circle so he was facing the road and gave me a little nod. “
Ciao
, Lina.”

And then he was gone.

“SO EXPLAIN THIS TO ME
again. Howard isn't your father; he just thinks he is?”

“Yes. Or at least I
think
he thinks he's my father.”

“You
think
he thinks he's your father?”

“Yes. Either that or he's lying. But I'm kind of leaning toward the former, because it's not like people are supereager to take in random teenagers. Even if you did love their mother.”

“But Howard isn't your father? It's that Matteo guy?”

“Yes.”
I flopped back on my bed, holding my phone to my ear. We'd been going over this for like twenty minutes now. “Addie, I don't know how else to explain this to you.”

“Just give me a second. It's not like it's complicated or anything.”

“I know. Sorry.” I covered my eyes. “And I still haven't told you the worst part.”

“Worse than meeting your horrible jerk of a father?”

“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “I kissed Ren.”

“You kissed Ren? Your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay . . . Well, what's so bad about that?”

“He didn't want to kiss me back.”

“No way. Why?”

“He has a girlfriend, and we'd just met Matteo and I was having this big breakdown, which was like the most inconvenient moment to realize how I really felt about him. So then I like jumped on him and he kind of”—I cringed—“pushed me off him.”

“He
pushed you off him
?”

“Yeah. And we were still in Rome, so then we had to take a train all the way back to Florence and he didn't talk to me like at all. So to sum things up, I'm all alone in Italy, I have to break the news to Howard that he isn't my father, and now I don't even have a friend.”

“Oh, Lina. And to think, ten minutes ago I was jealous of you.” She sighed. “What about what's-his-name? Underwear model?”

“Thomas?”
Crap. His text.
“He messaged me earlier and asked me out. Some big party for a girl who graduated from the school.”

“Are you going?”

“Probably not. I mean, who knows what's going to happen once I tell Howard. For all I know he's going to kick me out.”

“He's not going to kick you out. That's ridiculous.”

“I know.” I sighed. “But I doubt he's going to be very happy. I mean, how weird is all this? Honestly, I wish he were my father.”

Words I never thought I'd utter.

Addie was quiet for a moment. “When are you going to tell him?”

“I don't know. He's still working, but he wants to go to a movie tonight. If I can work up my courage I'll tell him as soon as he gets home.”

She exhaled. “Okay, here's the plan. I'm going upstairs right now to ask my parents if you can move back in. No, I'm going up to
tell
them you need to move back in. And don't worry. They'll say yes.”

I spent the next hour pacing around my room. I kept picking up the journal to examine the sliver of pages I still had left to read, but every time I tried to open it I ended up dropping it like I was playing hot potato. Once I read that last entry, it was over. I'd never hear anything new from her again. And I'd know just how badly she'd gotten her heart broken.

I kept going over to the window to watch for Howard, but he and the tour were moving across the grounds like garden slugs. Did they have to stop at
every
statue? And what was so interesting about that corner of the cemetery versus this corner? By the time they finished learning about WWII, WWIII would probably be done and over. Finally, when I thought I couldn't stand one more second of waiting, Howard led the group back to the visitors' parking lot and waited as they boarded the tour bus.

“You ready?” I whispered to myself.

Of course I wasn't.

Howard walked into the visitors' center, and then he and Sonia both came out and started walking toward the house.

Oh, no.
I couldn't tell him with Sonia around. Was I going to have to sit on this all night? When they got to the driveway I took the stairs two at a time down to the living room and met them on the front porch.

“There you are,” Howard said. “How's your day been?”

Horrifying.
“It's been . . . okay.”

He was wearing a light blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up and his nose was sunburned. Something I'd never experienced. You know, because I was
Italian
.

“I tried calling your phone earlier, but there was no answer. If we're going to make it to the movie, we'll have to go now.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Is Ren coming?”

“No. He . . . can't make it.” How was I going to get out of this?

Sonia smiled. “They're playing a really old movie tonight, a classic with Audrey Hepburn. Have you heard of
Roman Holiday
?”

“No, I haven't.”
And could everyone please just stop talking about Rome?

Under normal circumstances I probably would have enjoyed
Roman Holiday
. It's a black-and-white movie about this European princess who is doing a world tour, but her schedule and handlers are superstrict, so one night when she's staying in Rome she sneaks out her bedroom window to go have some fun. The only problem is that she'd taken a sedative earlier in the night and so she passes out on a park bench and an American reporter rescues her. They end up exploring the city together and falling in love, except then they don't end up together, because she has too many other demands.