I took the journal from him and started flipping through it. “She talks about this club a couple of times, Space.”
“Space Electronic?” He laughed. “No way. I was there like two weeks ago. Elena loves it. She knows one of the DJs, so we usually get in for free. Where else?”
“The Duomo, Boboli Gardens . . . He also took her to a secret bakery. Do you know where one is?”
“A secret bakery?”
I handed him the journal. “Read here.”
He scanned the entry. “I’ve never heard of this, but it sounds awesome. Too bad she didn’t write down the address—I could totally go for a fresh cornetta.”
His phone started ringing and he pulled it out of his pocket and hesitated for a second, then hit SILENCE. It started ringing again right away and he hit SILENCE again.
“Who is it?”
“No one.”
He shoved the phone back in his pocket, but not before I saw the name on the screen. Mimi.
“Hey, do you want to get a gelato?”
I wrinkled my forehead. “What’s that?”
He groaned. “Gelato. Italian ice cream. The greatest thing that will ever happen to you. What have you been doing since you arrived?”
“Hanging out with you.”
“And you’re telling me I only have one summer.” He shook his head, then stood up. “Come on, Lina. We’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 12
SO . . . ITALIAN GELATO. TAKE THE deliciousness of a regular ice-cream cone, times it by a million, then sprinkle it with crushed-up unicorn horns. Ren stopped me after my fourth scoop. I probably would have kept going forever.
When I walked in the front door Howard was watching an old James Bond movie with his bare feet propped up on the coffee table. There was an industrial-size bucket of popcorn sitting next to him.
“Movie just started—want to watch?”
I glanced at the screen. Old-school James Bond was swimming toward a building wearing a disguise that basically consisted of a stuffed duck attached to a helmet. Normally I was all over cheesy old movies, but tonight I had other things on my mind. “No thanks. I’m going to get some rest.” And hopefully some answers.
NOVEMBER 9
Tonight was the best night of my life, and I have a statue to thank for it.
X and I were standing in Piazza della Signoria looking at a statue by Giambologna called The Rape of the Sabine Women. The name confused me because it doesn’t match what’s going on. It’s of three figures: a man holding a woman up in the air and a second man crouching down on the ground looking up at her. There’s obviously something distressing going on, but the three of them are graceful, harmonious even.
I told X that I thought the woman looked like she was being lifted up, not hurt, and as usual he knew the story. When Rome was first settled, the men realized their civilization was missing one very important ingredient: women. But where to find them? The only women within striking distance belonged to a neighboring tribe called the Sabines, and when the Romans went to ask for permission to marry some of their daughters, all they got was a big fat no. So in a particularly Roman move, they invited the Sabines to a party, then, partway through the night, overpowered the men and dragged all the women kicking and screaming back to their city. Eventually the Sabines managed to break into Rome, but by that time they were too late. The women didn’t want to be rescued. They’d fallen for their captors and it turned out life in Rome was actually pretty great. The reason I was confused by the statue’s title is that it is mistranslated in English. The Latin word “raptio” sounds like “rape” but actually means “kidnapping.” So really the sculpture should be called The Kidnapping of the Sabine Women.
It was already late and I told X I needed to head home, but suddenly he turned to me and told me he loved me. He said it casually, like it wasn’t the first time he’d said it, and it took a moment for the words to seep in. Then I made him repeat it. He LOVES me. Carry me off. I’m invested.
NOVEMBER 10
Went to class this morning on about two hours of sleep. X arrived late, and even though I knew he’d probably gotten even less sleep than I had, he somehow looked perfect. He broke our act-like-friends-in-school rule and gave me a big shiny smile that anyone could see. I wish I could pause this moment and live in it forever.
NOVEMBER 17
Sometimes I feel like my time is divided into two categories: time with X, and time spent waiting to be with X. Since that night in Piazza della Signoria, things have been up and down between us. Some days we get along perfectly, and other days he acts like I really am just a friend. Lately I feel like he’s been overly cautious about keeping things secret. Would it be that big of a deal if everyone knew? I think they’d be happy for us.