Chapter 8

EIGHT

Sabella

Ihug a pillow to my chest where I lie on my bed as I replay the morning in my head, or more accurately, the part involving Angelo. Pirate is curled up against my side, his warm little body soothing.

I pick up my phone and check the screen like I did not five minutes earlier. There's still nothing, no word from Angelo. Maybe he's in the plane. Does he even remember my number? What if he forgot it? No. Somehow, an inadequate memory seems beneath him. He comes across as one of those people who's both insightful and good at memorizing facts. Intelligent. Like someone who breezes through life, navigating the pitfalls effortlessly and efficiently, he's clever on all levels.

Maybe he'll send me a text message when he lands in Corsica. Can you even fly there directly? Do you have to go via France? My knowledge of geography is good, but I've never traveled abroad, so I don't know how it works. I make a mental note to look it up.

A fresh pang of guilt hits my conscience. My stomach twists. I lied to my dad. It's a line I've never crossed, and it makes me loathe myself. I hate the feeling, but what choice did I have?

When Dad called, I've never heard him so angry. He never loses his cool, especially not with me. I told him Angelo had delivered the rest of my gift and that was all. He asked if Angelo had initiated any contact, and I said no without blinking. If I'd told the truth, Dad would've confiscated my phone, and I couldn't let that happen. I'll die if I don't hear from him.

Urgh. Why must Dad be so difficult? It's obvious he doesn't trust Angelo with me. He made that clear when he said Angelo is never to set foot in our house again. When I asked Dad why he disliked him so much, he gave me the same answer as last night, that he's a bad person and no good for me.

A knock falls on the door, pulling me from my thoughts. Mattie enters without waiting for my reply.

She comes over and sits on the edge of the bed. "Mom said you're grounded."

"I can't believe she ran straight to the phone and called Dad." I push the pillow over my face and utter a scream before throwing it against the wall. "I'm so mad at her."

Pirate jerks awake at the sudden movement, his big yellow eyes alert and wild as he looks around.

"Sorry, Pirate," I mumble, stroking his fur.

He settles with a purr and curls up in a ball again.

"Don't blame Mom," Mattie says. "She did what she thought was right. Dad obviously agrees."

Mattie's words stir a sense of betrayal in me. "Hey, whose side are you on?"

"Everyone told you to stay away from that boy. It's for the best." She gets to her feet. "Do you want to look at wedding brochures with us? Jared and I are getting some ideas for the venue."

I'd rather swallow needles. "Why don't you just elope and have an island wedding?"

"I want a big wedding with all the frills. If it's the most I'm getting out of the deal, I may as well go the whole nine yards."

Mindful not to disturb Pirate again, I sit up carefully. "How can you be so accepting of everything? How can you sacrifice getting a degree and having a career for Jared?"

She shrugs and turns for the door. "I love him." Calling from over her shoulder, she adds, "We're in the informal lounge if you change your mind."

"Thanks," I mumble, but she's already closed the door.

In exactly ten minutes, Mom is going to barge in here and tell me to be a good sister by showing an interest in Mattie's wedding. It's not that I'm uninterested. I just don't want to pore over glossy magazines and browse cake decorations for hours. What can be more boring?

I quickly strip out of the red dress and pull on my bikini, a pair of shorts, and a boyfriend shirt that I knot in the front. After making sure Pirate has food and water, I close the door behind me and run barefoot downstairs.

Mom is talking to Doris in the kitchen, giving her dinner instructions.

"I'm going to Colin's," I say as I scoot past the door, not giving Mom a chance to object. Not that I expect her to, seeing how hard she's trying to push Colin and me into each other's arms.

"Be home by five," Mom calls after me. "Your father won't be later than six."

That's new. Usually, on Fridays, he has drinks after work with his clients. It's a company tradition. As he never gets home until after midnight, we have our Friday night dinners without him. I hope he's not making an exception in coming home early to lecture me again. Keeping a straight face while lying to Dad is neither easy nor pleasant.

After letting myself out through the pedestrian gate, I walk the two hundred meters to Colin's house and ring the intercom at the gate. Our gardens touch on the eastern side, but their mansion doesn't have a sea-facing view.

When the gate clicks open, I jog down the paved driveway to the front. The house is modern with angular lines and lots of glass. I like the design and the sparse, contemporary furniture much better than our imposing, palatial structure with its stiff and formal sofas.

Colin opens the front door, wearing a pair of Bermuda swimming shorts and holding a maxi bag of potato crisps in one hand. His ridiculously perfect abs and hairless chest didn't retain an ounce of the baby fat that gives his cheeks their chubby appearance. Besides his blond-hair-and-blue-eyed look, his well-proportioned pecs, biceps, and washboard stomach are some of the biggest reasons why the girls in my school are chasing so hard after him. Other reasons include his family's money, his good grades, his promising future, and his faultless manners. Oh, and did I mention that he's the town's rugby star?

"Hey," he says, stuffing a handful of crisps in his mouth. "What's up?"

"Mattie and Jared are choosing wedding colors and themes."

"Ouch." He sucks air through his teeth. "Sounds like a nightmare." He holds the bag out to me and says with a full mouth, "Want a chip?"

I make a face. "No, thanks. Your hand's been in there, and I don't know where your hand has been."

He cocks a shoulder. "Your loss." Turning back into the house, he says, "My parents went grocery shopping. There's not much to munch in the house."

I follow him inside. "I'm not hungry."

Not today. Usually, I always have an appetite. I'm just too out of sorts to be in the mood for snacks.

We walk through the television room toward the deck at the back and stop next to the pool where Clara is swimming a length underwater.

She surfaces at the shallow end and wipes drops from her eyes. "Hey, Bella."

I give a little wave. "Hi."

She kicks away from the side, dives under the water, and resumes her swimming.

Colin goes to the bar and opens the fridge. "There's only Pepsi and tonic water."

"I'm not thirsty."

He pulls his head from the fridge and gives me a mock-horrified look. "What? Sabella Edwards not hungry or thirsty? It's going to snow, and I've had enough of that in New York."

My tone is sarcastic. "Ha-ha."

He grabs a can of Pepsi. "Sure you don't want one?"

"I do," Clara says, pushing herself out of the water.

He throws the can to his sister and takes another for himself. After cracking it open, he plonks down on a deckchair.

Clara takes a few gulps before setting the soft drink on a table and snatching a towel from the pile on the shelf next to the bar.

Colin and Clara are three years apart, but if you didn't know they were brother and sister, you'd never guess. Their resemblance ends with their golden hair and clear blue eyes. Her face is narrower and her small body pixie-like in build.

She wags her eyebrows. "I'm going for a shower to give you two time to, you know, catch up." At catch up, she makes a heart shape with her hands.

Colin flips her off. She giggles as she waltzes past me and into the house.

"You won't grow taller by standing there," Colin says. "Grab a seat."

Too agitated for lounging, I shove my hands in my back pockets and kick at the pebbles on the border of the deck.

He sits up and swings a leg over each side of the chair, clasping the can in both hands. "Clara is going to a sleepover at five. I have to watch her until then, but I'm free after. Do you want to go catch a movie?"

"Nope." I sigh. "I'm grounded from going to town."

"Grounded? Wow. What happened?"

I exhale through my nose. "Angelo."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing." I throw my hands in the air. "I got grounded for talking to him." Alone. Outside.

He takes a sip of his drink, watching me from over the rim of the can. "Just for talking to him?"

"Yes."

He rests his elbows on his thighs. "That's harsh."

"Tell me about it." I go over to the ping-pong table and pick up the ball and a bat. "My dad said I should've refused the stuff he bought for Pirate. He's angry that I walked him out. He wanted to know what we talked about alone outside as if I'm a child who can't be trusted. I'm supposed to tell Angelo he's not welcome if he ever shows up again."

"Why?"

I bounce the ball with the bat. "Dad said he comes from a bad family and that he's only doing business with them because he doesn't have a choice."

"Don't you believe your dad?"

"You know my dad is overprotective. I looked Angelo up on Google. There wasn't a lot of personal information, only that his family owns tons of businesses in Corsica. They donate shitloads of money to charity. His mom is an angel investor in several startups and the patron of a program that reintegrates runaway teenagers into society."

"Anything can look good on paper. You have to admit, the dude is weird."

I look at him quickly, missing a hit. The ball hops off the table and rolls under a rosebush. "Why do you say that?"

"He looked like he wanted to rip my head off and eat my brains for breakfast."

Busying myself with going after the ball, I avoid his gaze. "You're exaggerating."

"What's the deal with the two of you?"

Heat pushes up my neck. I take a moment to gather myself before straightening. "There's no deal."

"Come on, Bella. I don't know you from yesterday. The guy walks into a room and you turn redder than a stop sign."

I throw the ball and catch it mid-air. "I was surprised, that's all. He didn't have to buy all those things for Pirate."

"I've never seen you blush in the sixteen years I've known you."

I can't argue that fact.

"Are you in love with him?" he asks in a quiet voice.

The heat travels from my neck to my face. Ignoring the question, I dribble the ball with the bat on the table.

"You are." He adds in a disbelieving tone, "After only meeting him last night."

I can't deny it. He won't buy the lie. If anyone knows me inside out, it's Colin.

Dropping the bat, I turn to face him. "Maybe I am. So what?"

"So what?" He utters a laugh. "You don't even know him."

I frown. "You say it like you disapprove."

"How can you fall in love without knowing the first thing about him?"

I stiffen. "I know plenty of things."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"He's kind."

He snort-laughs. "Is he?"

"Yes," I say, my tone defensive. "He made my mom let me keep the cat."

"How did he manage that anyway? Wait. How did he know you wanted a cat?"

"He didn't. I found the cat in a trashcan and took it home. When my mom saw it, she wanted to take it to the SPCA, but Angelo happened to be there, and he told her he gave me the cat for my birthday."

"And she agreed? Just like that?"

"Yes." I brush my hands over my shorts. "Their business must be really important to my dad."

He glances toward the horizon and back at me. "He lied and then manipulated your mom into letting you have a cat. You base your feelings on that?"

"Why not?" I say, irritation bubbling up inside me. "He didn't lie with bad intentions. It was only to help me."

Chuckling, he tips back the can and takes a long drink. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he says with a wry expression, "Because of him you finally have a cat, and I wrote you a stupid fucking ballade."

"It's not stupid." When he raises a brow, meeting my gaze with a challenge in his, I add quickly, "Okay, you have to be honest, the situation was weird. That's not our dynamic."

"No?" He searches my face. "It could be."

I walk to his chair and poke him in the chest. "You're my friend, my best buddy."

He squints up at me. "Exactly. We know each other's faults and weaknesses. I know you hate avo and that you mash bananas on your peanut butter toast. We're perfectly suited. Everyone says we make the handsomest couple in town. We're both high achievers and good sportsmen. They all think we're going to end up together. Why shouldn't we?"

"There's no spark," I say, raising my palms and lifting my shoulders.

"Sparks are overrated. I think friendship is much more important."

Propping my hands on my hips, I scrutinize him through narrowed eyes. "This is all because of this morning. My mom put you up to that. The ballade was her idea. Admit it."

He scoffs. When I don't budge, he cuts his gaze toward the pool. "She may have mentioned that they'd gotten you a piano for your birthday and that, since you don't play, a little performance would be a nice gift."

"I knew it," I say with a measure of triumph and relief. "I'm so embarrassed about her meddling. I'm really sorry she's like that."

"Gah." He waves a hand. "It's nothing." His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "You don't have to apologize."

I straddle the chair, facing him. "Are we seriously having this conversation? I don't want things to get awkward between us."

He tips back the can and drinks, pretending to look at the ocean.

"Because you're my only real friend." I make a puppy face. "My best buddy." Dipping my head, I catch his gaze and say in my pouty voice, "My buddy bear. My cuddly pooh."

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips even though he tries hard to keep a serious face. He gives me a gentle shove. "Okay, okay. I get it."

Laughing, I lean back with my weight supported on my arms and tickle his side with my toes. "Come on. Smile. You know you want to."

He pushes my foot away, but his features soften as his resolve crumbles. He's never been good at pretending to be angry. "So you want sparks, huh?"

I let out a dreamy sigh. "Yep."

"If your parents don't want you to see this guy, what are you going to do? Anyway, your mom mentioned that he lives abroad. Corsica, right?"

"Right." I bite my lip, considering how honest to be, but Colin is my bestie, and I trust him. He won't tattletale on me to my parents. "I gave him my number."

"Have you heard from him?"

My chest tightens as I admit, "Not yet."

Caution slips into his voice. "Say you do hear from him. Then what?"

"Then we're going to text and talk on the phone. Isn't that why you give someone your number?"

"How is this going to work if you don't see him again?"

"I will," I say, emphasizing the words with conviction more for my own sake than for Colin's. "He said he'd come back."

"Will you meet him in secret?" He studies me with something that looks too much like pity. "How will that work in the long term? Can you hide seeing him from your parents forever?"

The obstacles in my path are dampers on my short-lived excitement. The unknown difficulties lying ahead constrict my chest. But I won't be a minor forever. As an adult, I'll be able to make my own decisions. Even then, I'm not looking forward to disappointing my dad.

Putting on a carefree smile, I say, "I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

Concern passes through his eyes. "Just be careful, Bella. Don't do something that'll get you hurt. I don't want that for you, because you're my best friend too."

"Thanks." My smile wavers. "Anyway, it's not serious. It's not like I'm making plans to marry him. Like you said, we only met yesterday."

"Okay," he says, not sounding convinced.

My phone pings. Taking it from my pocket, I check the message.

It's from Angelo.

My heart starts pounding, sending a rush of blood through my veins.

Angelo: Are you thinking of me?

I type out a quick reply. Are you thinking of me?

His answer comes a second later. Funny. And clever. Yes.

Simple and honest. He doesn't mince his words. I like that.

Aware of Colin's gaze on me, I get up. "Sorry. It's him. Give me a minute."

I turn my back on Colin and type, Yes too.

Angelo: Good. I'm having a phone delivered for you tomorrow.

My cheeks turn hot, knowing he anticipated the fact that my parents may confiscate my phone or check my messages.

Angelo: The delivery will be made at ten. Can you wait outside?

So that my parents don't find out.

Me: Yes, but tell the courier company to meet me at the bottom of the street.

Angelo: Done.

Me: Where are you?

Angelo: On our way to Cape Town.

I think a moment, trying to come up with an appropriate reply. It's too soon to tell him I'll miss him. I don't want to come on to him too strongly.

Me: Bon voyage?

I wait a few beats, but when he doesn't reply, I write, At what time is your flight?

His answer comes immediately. Midnight. I'll let you know when we land in Marseille.

My finger hovers over the kissing emoji, but as he hasn't used any emojis, I decide against it. I stare at the screen for another three seconds, and when the dots indicating that he's typing remain absent, I pocket my phone.

"What did he say?" Colin asks.

I set my gaze on the ocean, trying to imagine Corsica on the other side. "That he's thinking of me."

"Damn, Bella."

I turn around.

Colin stabs his fingers through his hair, messing it up. "Nothing good can come of this."

That sounds an awful lot like what Mattie said, but I pay the pessimistic prophecy no heed. My stomach does that funny thing again, and suddenly, the world is a wonderful place.