Chapter 20

MONTEPULCIANO, ITALY

Back at the B and B, the sun has disappeared and the stars twinkle in the inky summer sky. Ryan sits in an Adirondack chair overlooking the sprawling vineyard. He feels like he’s in a fever dream. From the heat, from the sudden reappearance of The Monster.

Nora arrives, carrying a small cooler. She pops open a Peroni and hands him the green bottle. She doesn’t remind him that Ryan promised to tell her what’s going on. She just sits quietly, drinking her beer, waiting.

After the long stretch of silence, he takes a swig and he tells her. About two high-school kids in love. About that night at Lovers’ Lane. About suspicions that have followed him like a stink. About the notes. About seeing The Monster.

It feels good, telling someone. It’s the first time. Because of the pain and guilt, but also the fear. He’s lost so much already. Friends. Basketball. His name, even. But he’s tired of being afraid. And telling Nora feels both safe and like something he can only describe as relief. Still, there’s terror bubbling inside him. Not about the others knowing who he really is, but in the revelation that The Monster is real, not an imaginary boogeyman conjured from the dark recesses of Ryan’s mind.

“Tell me you’re not going to meet him tomorrow,” Nora says after listening quietly.

Ryan shrugs, takes another sip of his beer.

“If he’s a killer…,” she says, clearly worried.

“It’s a public place. Lots of people will be in the town square in the morning.” He’s trying to convince himself more than Nora.

“You’ll miss the train.”

They’re supposed to head to Rome tomorrow morning, where they’ll meet with the donor alumnus who funds this annual trip. The professor who oversees the law journal warned that they cannot miss the meeting.

“I’ll catch up with you all, take a later train. I’ll make the meeting.”

“You should call the police or your parents.” There’s a pleading in her tone now.

Ryan has been debating doing just that. But there’s nothing his parents can do more than five thousand miles away. He can’t put them through more worry. And the police will think he’s insane. His chest is tight, he squeezes his beer to steady his hands.

Nora is quiet for a long while. “Fine,” she says at last. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Ryan says, shaking his head.

“Why not? You said it’s safe.” There’s a challenge in her tone now.

“Because this is something I need to do alone.”

Nora thinks on this. “I’m coming,” she repeats.

He’s spared further debate when they hear voices coming up the hill.

Diana sees them first. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude,” she says, her words slurred. The others are behind her.

“You’re not intruding,” Ryan says. “Join us.”

Nora’s mouth pinches tight, she folds her arms across her chest. Aiden, Jake, Eddie, and 3D sit on the grass facing them. They’re all tipsy, if not sloppy, from all the wine, the champagne, the heat.

Eddie in particular looks like he’s been hit by a garbage truck. “I’m gonna get vulnerable with you guys,” Eddie says, sitting cross-legged in the grass.

The group waits, like they have no idea where this is heading.

Eddie continues: “I haven’t taken a shower since we got here.”

Divya wrinkles her nose. “Got where?”

“Since we got to Italy. The showers, they’re so small. Like vertical coffins. I get claustrophobic.”

Divya scooches away from Eddie.

“I said I was being vulnerable.”

Aiden is grinning now. “Good job, man. Girls love vulnerability,” he deadpans.

There’s more small talk. Gossip that Clayton and Marci, whom no one’s seen since they got back from ballooning, are hooking up. Chatter that they all should be going out tonight—doing something!—before they leave in the morning.

“I have an idea,” Aiden says. “Truth or dare.”

Dena says, “Ugh, no one is going to accept a dare to make out with you, dude.”

Nora interrupts. “I’ll play.” Her tone is stern. Ryan doesn’t look over at her but can imagine her eyes shooting lasers at him. It’s confirmed when she says, “Ryan: Truth or dare?”

Ryan turns to her, locks eyes in the faint light. He can’t risk picking truth in case she asks him something that will tell the others who he is. What he’s going to do tomorrow.

“I’m not in the mood to—”

“I’ll go,” Eddie butts in. Ryan could hug him right now. Except for that whole not-showering confession. “But forget truth or dare. We’ve had too much to drink for dares. Everyone do truth, but answer this question: If you weren’t going to be a lawyer, what would you be?”

This quiets the group, like maybe they’ve all asked themselves the same question following the intensity of their 1L year.

“I’ll go,” Jake says. The women groan, thinking he’s going to say he’d be an exotic dancer like from Magic Mike or something similarly ridiculous. But Jake says, “I’d work with kids with intellectual and developmental disabilities.”

There’s a moment of quiet again, this time as if no one is sure if he’s made a bad joke.

“In high school,” Jake continues, “I was president of the Best Buddies club. It’s an after-school club that matched kids with IDD with peers who didn’t have those struggles.”

“Aww,” Dena says.

“I’d work at a gallery,” Divya joins in. “I was an art history major. But I plan to use my law degree to help recover art stolen blood antiquities.”

“Easy,” Eddie chimes in. “Video game designer.”

Aiden says, “I don’t know. I can write code, but hate it. Maybe I’d be an environmentalist. Some fucked-up shit going on in the world.”

Dena would run an NGO; Diana would be a veterinarian.

In the ambient light, Ryan has a revelation that should’ve been obvious. Or maybe not. These classmates—these friends—are more than the sum of their cultivated social-media personas, more than the roles they play, more than the stereotypes. They’re like him. Trying to find their way. Trying to find out who they are. They party too much—are maybe too privileged—but they want to make the world kinder, better.

The group never turns to Nora or Ryan for their answers. Maybe because they know that Nora was born to be a lawyer. As for Ryan, well, maybe they’ve just come to expect him keeping things close to the vest, not giving any real insights into himself. Which is fair.

But in this moment, he decides he’s not going to run from himself anymore, not going to be afraid anymore.

Tomorrow morning, he will confront The Monster.