Love & Gelato Page 24

“So cool.”

  We watched quietly for a moment, the lanterns twirling up to the stars like graceful jellyfish. The night was beautiful and magical and ugh—I was so miserable I could cry. Here I was in Italy witnessing a scene out of a fairy tale, and all I could think about was Ren. Was I going to be like Howard? Heartbroken for life? Was I going to have to buy my own long board and start baking blueberry muffins in the dead of night?

  “Told you you’d like it. They’re doing fireworks later too.” Thomas reclined on one elbow, lowering his face close to mine. A bunch of lanterns were reflected in his eyes and for a second I lost track of why I wasn’t into him. And then I remembered.

  “Thomas, I have to tell you something.”

  “Shh. You can tell me later.” Before I could react, he rolled on top of me, pressing his lips against mine and my whole body into the ground. For a second it was like Christmas and my birthday and summer vacation all rolled into one, but then it was all so wrong. I wriggled out from under him and sat up.

  “Thomas, I can’t do this.”

  “Why?” He sat up too, a confused look on his face. This was probably his very first experience with rejection. Poor devil.

  I shook my head. “You’re great. And so good-looking. But I just can’t.”

  “Because of Ren?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why’d you even come here with me if you’re into Ren?”

  “I’m sorry. It was really lame of me. And I should have told you earlier.”

  He stood up and grabbed his jacket, brushing grass off his pants. “Lucky for you, lover boy’s right over there.”

  “What?” I whipped around. Ren was standing a few yards away, his back to me. I scrambled to my feet.

  “See you around,” Thomas said.

  “Thomas, I really am sorry,” I called after him, but he was already on his way back to the house.

  I took a deep breath, then scooped up my shoes and half ran over to Ren. He was wearing a navy blue suit and it looked like someone had held him down and given him a haircut.

  I touched his back. “Ren?”

  He turned around and I felt the shards of my broken heart crumble to dust. He looked so good. Like so good.

  “Hey.” Not even a hint of surprise.

  “I was really hoping you’d be here. Could we talk?”

  Suddenly Mimi materialized from a nearby group of girls. She was wearing a fitted black dress with cutout panels along the rib cage, and her eyes were outlined in dark liner. She looked like a tiger. I’d never seen anything more terrifying.

  She linked her arm with Ren’s. “Hello, Lina. How’s Thomas?”

  “He’s okay,” I said quietly.

  “Ren, let’s go back inside. I think the band’s going to start again.”

  “Ren, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.

  He was looking just past my right ear. “I’m kind of busy.”

  “Please? It will only be a minute. I just have to tell you something.”

  “He’s busy,” Mimi said, tightening her grip on his arm.

  He looked down at her hand, then back up at me. “Okay. One minute.”

  “Seriously, Ren?” Mimi growled.

  “It will just be a second. I’ll be right back.”

  She turned and flounced away. That girl knew how to flounce.

  “What’s up?” Ren asked quietly.

  “Will you go for a walk with me?”

  By the time we made it to the edge of the yard the lanterns were just tiny little specks in the sky, and I was a hundred percent sure that Ren hadn’t gotten over what happened in Rome. He just kept trudging after me like a well-dressed robot, and I felt myself sinking lower and lower. Was this even going to work?

  The yard was terraced and we walked down some steps, passing a couple making out against a tree and a group of guys riding around on croquet mallets like they were jockeys. Totally something we’d laugh about. That is, if we were talking.

  Finally we came to a white stone bench and Ren sat down. I sat down next to him.

  “Amazing party,” I said.

  He just shrugged.

  Okay. He wasn’t going to make this easy on me.

  “I guess I’ll just get right into it.” My voice was wobbly. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart and funny, and really easy to be around, and you’re basically the one person I’ve met since my mom died who I don’t feel like I have to act fake around. And I’m really, really sorry about what happened in Rome. Kissing you wasn’t fair because you have a girlfriend . . . or had a girlfriend . . .” I looked at him, hoping he’d clarify, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Anyway. I didn’t know right until that moment how I felt about you, but I should have just told you instead of basically jumping on you. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I really like you. A lot. But if you don’t feel the same way about me, it’s okay. Because you’re really important to me, and I hope we can still be friends.”

  Suddenly a second round of cheering started up on the lawns and there was a hissing noise followed by the pop of a red firework exploding across the sky.

  It would have been the perfect moment for Ren to gather me in his arms and profess his undying love.

  Only he didn’t.

  I shifted uncomfortably. A few more fireworks went off, but Ren didn’t even look up.

  “It would be really awesome if you’d say something.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? And back in Rome, why’d you say that you’d never thought of me as more than a friend?”

  Crap. I shouldn’t have said that.

  “I guess I was trying to save face. You obviously didn’t want to kiss me, and I was so embarrassed. I was just trying to fix the situation.”

  He looked up. “Well, you’re wrong. I really did want to kiss you, but I stopped because I was worried you didn’t mean it. Meeting Matteo was pretty crazy, and I didn’t want things to happen just because you were in the middle of some kind of emotional roller coaster. And then afterward, you told me you didn’t mean it.”

  “But I did. That’s what I’m—”

  He cut me off. “I liked Mimi for a long time. Like two years. I thought about her all the time and then when things finally started happening between us I thought I was the luckiest guy ever. But then I met you and suddenly I was avoiding her calls and trying to think of ways to get you to hang out with me. So the night we went to Space I called her and broke up with her. I didn’t know if things were going to work out between you and me, but I really wanted the chance.”

  He shook his head. “Then we went to Rome. And then all that stuff happened. And now tonight . . .” He stood up. “Why do you think you can be all over Thomas and then come tell me you like me?”

  A whole different kind of fireworks exploded behind my eyes. “Why do you think you can be all over Mimi and then tell me you liked me all along? You’re the one who’s had a girlfriend all this time.”

  “You’re right. Had a girlfriend. Who I broke up with. And I’m not the one who was just rolling around on the ground with someone else. What am I? Your backup plan?”

  I jumped to my feet. “If you’d actually been watching, you would have noticed that I pushed Thomas off me and told him I like you, but forget it. I don’t even care anymore.”

  “Me neither. I’m going back to the party. And you’d better get back to your date.” He turned and walked away.

  “Stronzo!” I yelled.

  A heart-shaped firework exploded over his head.

  Chapter 28

  IT TOOK HOWARD ALMOST AN hour to find Valentina’s house. For one thing, I didn’t know who Valentina was, and for another, I couldn’t find anyone who knew the address. Selma and her bionic cleavage were nowhere to be found, and I couldn’t find Elena or Marco or anyone else I recognized. Finally I got the bouncer to tell me where I was, but he didn’t speak much English and kept guarding his clipboard f
rom me like he thought I was trying to trick him into giving me access. Finally I just forced my phone on him and he gave directions to Howard.

  By the time Howard’s car pulled up to the driveway all the anger had drained out of me and I was about as perky as a wet noodle. I felt crumpled. No, bedraggled, and when I got in the car Howard didn’t even ask how it had gone. He could tell by my face.

  When we got to the house I threw my dress on the floor, then put on a T-shirt and a pair of pajamas pants and went downstairs. I was on the verge of tears, but I couldn’t handle the thought of crying alone in my room. Again. I’d reached my threshold of pathetic.

  “We have gelato and we have tea,” Howard said when I walked into the kitchen. “Which sounds best?”

  “Gelato.”

  “Excellent choice. Why don’t you go sit in the living room? I’ll bring you a bowl.”

  “Thanks.” I went and sat cross-legged on the couch, resting my head back against the wall. I’d spent all night looking for Ren and then he’d seen me in the exact moment that Thomas had made his move. What were the chances? Was fate just against us? And had I really called him a stronzo? I didn’t even know what that meant.

  Howard walked in with two bowls. “I got you two kinds, fragola e coco. Strawberry and coconut. I’m sorry we don’t have stracciatella. I can tell it’s a stracciatella night. ”

  “It’s okay.” I took the bowl from him, balancing it on my knee.

  “Rough night?”

  “I don’t think things are going to work out with Ren.” My eyes teared up. “Not even friend-wise.”

  “Your talk didn’t go well?”

  “No. We actually got into this awesome screaming match and I called him a bad word in Italian. Or at least I think it was a bad word.”

  “What was it?”

  “Stronzo.”

  He sat down on the chair across from me, nodding gravely. “We can recover from stronzo. And remember, it isn’t over until it’s over. For years I thought things were completely finished with your mother, but we actually started talking again before her diagnosis.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. She sent me an e-mail and we corresponded for almost a year. It was like we picked up right where we left off. We didn’t talk about any of the heavy stuff, just kind of fun banter back and forth.”

  “Did you ever see each other?”

  “No. She probably knew that if I ever saw her again I’d carry her off. No questions asked.”

  “Like the Sabines.” I tried to take a bite of gelato, but it just sort of slid off my tongue, and I let my spoon clatter back into the bowl. “You two basically have the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. There was a lot of good.”

  I sighed. “So how do I get over Ren?”

  “I’m the worst person to ask. I fell in love and stayed that way. But if you ask me, it’s worth it. ‘A life without love is like a year without summer.’ ”

  “Deep. But I’m about ready for summer to be over.”

  He smiled. “Give it some time. It will be all right.”

  Howard and I stayed up really late. When I checked my phone I had a three-word text from Addie (THEY SAID YES!!) and Howard and I spent more than an hour discussing the pros and cons of staying or leaving Florence. He even pulled out a lined notebook and made two columns with REASONS TO STAY and REASONS TO GO at the top. I didn’t add Ren to the list because I couldn’t decide which side he belonged on. Brokenhearted and see him every day? Or brokenhearted and never see him again? Either one sounded incredibly miserable.

  Finally, I went up to bed where I spent the night tossing and turning. Turns out there’s a reason they call it falling in love, because when it happens—really happens—that’s exactly how it feels. There’s no doing or trying, you just let go and hope that someone’s going to be there to catch you. Otherwise, you’re going to end up with some pretty hefty bruises. Trust me, I would know.

  I must have dozed off eventually, because around four a.m. I woke in a five-alarm panic. Had something just hit me? I scrambled to my feet, my heart racing. My window was as wide-open as ever, and a dusting of stars glittered at me from the cemetery’s treetops. Everything was as calm and still as a lake. Not a single ripple.

  “Just dreaming,” I said, my voice sounding supercalm and in charge. It was literally the only part of me not freaking out over the fact that I may or may not have just been woken up by something cold and hard hitting me in the leg.

  Not that that made any sense.

  I shook my head, pulling back the covers to get back in bed like a rational person, and then I yelped and jumped like half a foot, because there were coins everywhere. Like, everywhere.

  They were scattered across my bed and rug and a few of them had even made it onto The Dress, which was still lying in the world’s saddest heap on the floor. I fumbled for my lamp, then bent down to take a look, being careful not to touch any of them. They were mostly copper-colored one- or two-cent coins, but some of them were twenty or fifty cents. There was even a two-euro coin.

  My bedroom was raining money.

  “What is going on?” I said aloud.

  Just then another coin arced through my open window, hitting me square in the face and causing me to do this dramatic tuck-and-cover move that I’d learned in elementary school earthquake drills. But by the time I hit the floor I wasn’t freaked out anymore. I knew what was going on.

  Someone was throwing money at me through my window. Which meant that either a government official was here to let me know that I’d won the Italian Powerball or Ren was trying to wake me up. Either way, my night had just gotten a whole lot better.

  I jumped up and ran over to the window.

  Ren was standing about six feet from the house, his arm cocked back to hurl another coin.

  “Look out!” I dropped to the floor again.

  “Sorry.”

  I slowly raised myself back up. Ren’s jacket and tie were sprawled out on the grass, and he was holding a white paper bag in his nonthrowing hand. I was so happy to see him it made me want to punch his lights out.

  I know. Mixed signals.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  We just stared at each other. Part of me wanted to chuck The Dress at him and the other part wanted me to let down my Medusa hair so he could use it climb up to my room. I guess it all depended on why he was here.

  Ren seemed like he was having an internal debate as well. He shuffled around for a second. “Would you mind coming down here?”

  I held out for exactly nine-tenths of a second, then threw one leg over the windowsill and slowly lowered myself out. Some of the bricks were uneven, and I used them as footholds to slowly climb down the house.

  “Be careful,” Ren whispered, holding his arms out to catch me.

  I had to jump the last few feet, and I smashed right into Ren, who did this awkward crumpling thing that left us tangled up on the ground. We both sprang to our feet, and Ren took a step back, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

  “You could have used the stairs,” he said.

  “Stairs are for stronzos.”

  He cracked a smile. “You left the party.”

  “Yeah.”

  Suddenly a light turned on in Howard’s room.

  “Howard!” Ren whispered. He looked like he’d just spotted a yeti in the wild. He was never going to get over that first conversation.

  “Come on.” I grabbed his hand and we ran for the back fence, trying—and failing—to not trip over every single curb we came across. Hopefully we’d never have to resort to a life of crime, because I was pretty sure we’d be the worst fugitives in the world.

  “There’s no way he didn’t hear us,” Ren panted when we reached the back wall.

  “I think he went back to sleep. Look. His bedroom light is off again.”

  Minor lie. Most likely Howard had figured out what was going on and decided to
let my middle-of-the-night escapade slide. He really was kind of the best. I turned to look at Ren, but I was so nervous that my eyes kept sliding off his face. He seemed to be having the same problem.

  “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

  He kicked at the grass. “I, uh, didn’t tell you earlier, but you really looked amazing tonight. It was your version of The Dress, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” I looked down too. “I don’t think it worked, though.”

  “No, it did. Trust me. So back there . . . at the party.” He breathed out. “I was pretty upset when I saw you with Thomas.”

  I nodded, doing my best to ignore the flicker of hope in my chest. And . . .

  “I really need to apologize. I was pretty upset back in Rome when you said you’d never, ever, ever, ever considered me as more than a friend—”

  “I only said ‘ever’ twice,” I protested.

  “Fine. Never, ever, ever. It was like a slap in the face. And then when it comes to Thomas, I’m a total idiot. He’s like a British pop star. How do you compete with that?”

  I groaned. “British pop star?”

  “Yeah. With a fake accent. He actually grew up near Boston, and when he gets really drunk he forgets about the whole British thing and sounds like one of those guys you see yelling at Red Sox games with letters painted on their beer bellies.”

  “That’s horrible.” I took a deep breath. “And I’m really sorry that I told you I’d never, ever, ever—”

  “Ever,” Ren added.

  “. . . ever consider you as more than a friend. It wasn’t true.” I cleared my throat. “Ever. Also, you’re not a stronzo.”

  Ren grew a tiny, hopeful smile on his face that immediately transplanted itself onto my face too. “Where’d you learn that word, anyway?”

  “Mimi.”

  He shook his head. “So, did you mean it back there? When you said you aren’t with Thomas?”

  I nodded. “Are you really not with Mimi?”

  “No. I am one hundred percent available.”

  “Huh,” I said, my smile ramping up like ten more degrees.

  We looked at each other for another long minute, and I’m pretty sure all four thousand headstones leaned in to hear what was going to happen next. So . . . were we just going to stand around looking at each other? What about all that crazy Italian passion we supposedly had?