Home > Our Italian Summer(4)

Our Italian Summer(4)
Author: Jennifer Probst

   Now?

   I couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t looked at me with utter naked resentment. As if I’d personally done everything I could to ruin her life. No matter what I tried—discipline, being her friend, ignoring her dark moods, offering advice—it was all wrong. And not just a little. Every day my failure was evident in her venom-dripping voice or the cold judgment in her big brown eyes, which had once offered reverence.

   She’d always been extremely close with my mother and liked to visit or cook dinner over there. Maybe some extra time with my mother was good for Allegra, especially since I’d been working so much lately. Allegra wouldn’t be pressured or pushed or grilled—my mother didn’t believe in that. At least, not for her granddaughter. She loved to fuss and spoil and pamper, and Allegra adored every moment.

   I had to stop worrying about everything so much. I was in a good place, and it had happened under my own drive, discipline, and hard work. Allegra would eventually see all my successes and be proud when she got older. Looking back, she’d finally realize she had more opportunities to make a difference in the world because I pushed both of us.

   I refused to have regrets about my choices.

   And I refused to fail.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO


   Allegra


   I stood outside Riverview Academy High School next to my two closest friends, Bonnie and Claire. Dressed in our ridiculous uniform of short skirts and blouses, I savored the fresh air before we had to go back inside for the next period. I only had one break in the late morning.

   “Are we meeting at the party after the track meet Friday night?” Bonnie asked, reapplying her red lipstick as she checked her reflection in the tiny mirror. “ ’Cause new guy is gonna be there and he’s H-O-T.”

   Claire flicked her perfect blond hair behind her shoulder. “He’s not that hot,” she declared. “He’s definitely no athlete. Maybe he’d be better off with Allegra. She’s always liked the brainiacs.”

   “He was already talking to Debbie the slut,” Bonnie said. “You know how she likes to do the new ones before anyone else gets their pick.”

   “Allegra is much prettier and has class,” Claire pointed out. “You should make a move. Guys adore it when girls ask them out.”

   “You’ve never asked a guy out,” Bonnie squealed.

   Claire rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting for the right one. Hey, did you check out the new Gucci dress that just got released from the runway? I already asked my mom to get it for prom.”

   “You didn’t! Bitch—my mother never lets me wear what I want. Your and Allegra’s moms are the coolest. I’ll get stuck with last year’s Vera Wang. What are you wearing, Allegra?”

   I was already bored out of my mind with the conversation. Once again, I had the strange feeling of being outside my body, not meant to be trapped in a tiny, rich town. But as usual, I cranked to autopilot and answered. “Not sure. I’ll figure it out later.”

   “Well, don’t wait too long or Claire will buy all the good stuff. Hey, who’s that?”

   I watched as the faded black Dodge sports car pulled up to the school and idled right in front of us. A girl with shocking-pink hair and a nose ring stuck her head out the window. She flicked a gaze over all the pretentious outfits and brown loafers and long wavy hair because God forbid any girl wears a short cut.

   Oh my God. I knew her. It was Freda.

   I’d met her at the party I’d begged my friends to crash a week ago. It’d been a mix of people from various high schools and usually not our scene, but I was dying to do something different. I loved her pink hair, ripped jeans, and cool shoulder tat of a bleeding rose. I figured she’d be a bitch, but we’d actually talked for a while. She introduced me to David and Connor, her two friends, and they seemed really cool. They went to the public high school a few blocks away from Riverview. We got into some good conversations before my friends came looking for me, demanding we leave because of the trashy crowd. I’d apologized but figured they were done with me after such a crappy comment.

   “Hey,” she greeted me, ignoring my friends. “Whatcha doing?”

   Bonnie and Claire stared in shocked silence. For the first time in a while, excitement pumped through my veins. “Waiting to go back inside.”

   “We’re bouncing for the rest of the day. Wanna come?”

   I looked at her as she waited for my answer. Connor leaned over from the driver’s seat and motioned me in with a grin. “Come on, rich girl. Come play with us.”

   I didn’t take offense. Ignoring Bonnie’s gasp, I hitched my backpack tighter over my shoulder and made my decision. “I’m going to go with them. Cover me. If anyone asks, I went home with a stomachache.”

   Claire’s mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?” she hissed. “You can’t go with them. You’ll get raped or kidnapped or something. They’re scum!”

   Coldness trickled down my spine. I’d known Claire for years now, grew up with her, and liked her a bit less every day that passed. She’d always been the leader of the school, and everyone was jealous of my place beside her. But underneath, I knew Claire was plain mean. “I’ll be fine. Call you later.”

   “Allegra!”

   The car door opened and I jumped in the back seat. Connor gave a loud whoop and pulled out of the lot, leaving my friends gaping at the curb. A thrill raced through me as I leaned back and looked at David, the third in the crew. “Hey,” I greeted him.

   “Hey,” he said back.

   We settled into silence as the Foo Fighters blared and everyone lit up cigarettes.

   With their piercings and tats, they didn’t fit in with any of my current friends. I bet they weren’t in track or tennis or swimming, or anything else that stunk of conformity. I needed that today. Sure, I was probably being reckless going off with people I didn’t know. They might sleep around and do drugs and not care about grades or planning for the future. But, hell, they were real. And I wanted that so bad, I was starting not to care about the consequences.

   “Want one?” Freda asked, tapping out a Marlboro Light.

   All I could think of was those horrible TV commercials showing people with one lung or cutout vocal cords because of smoking. My mother’s droning voice kept replaying in my head in a mantra of nonsense words like stupid, cancer, and ruin your life. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed it all to the side.

   “Sure.” Heart beating at a ridiculous rhythm, I took the cigarette and Freda showed me how to inhale without mocking me. After a few coughs, I finally got it. I let the smoke settle, then blew it out, not liking it too much but feeling good about doing something my mother would hate. With every puff, her voice grew dimmer.

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