I look over, and Gio is holding out one of the pies.
For me. His face is unreadable.
"…For me?"
"You gonna make me take it back?" he says, pretending to look bored. I take it. Carefully. And I swear, I swear the moment my fingers touch his, my soul leaves my body.
Noah gasps so dramatically he nearly falls over. "EXCUSE ME?" Lorenzo drops his hand of cards. "You gave him a pie?!" "You've known me since birth!" Lorenzo cries. "Where's my pie?!"
"You two are so embarrassing," Daisy groans. "They're being adorable and you're over here acting like you lost custody." She points a dramatic finger at Gio. "Look at you. My brother turned you from a punch-happy maniac into a pie-sharing man. It's disgusting."
I am still holding the pie in both hands. I haven't even taken a bite yet. I'm too busy being emotionally overwhelmed. Lorenzo, dramatically offended, cracks open a bottle of something strong.
Noah turns on him immediately. "I thought you said you weren't drinking anymore after that party."
Lorenzo shrugs. "Forgive and forget."
"You threw up on a cop car."
"Forgive. And forget."
We are all laughing. I can't stop thinking about the fact that he gave me a pie. He didn’t have to share it. He just did. And somehow, that means more than words ever could.
18) He Loves You Too
Gio
I notice some kids near us. They’ve been circling like sharks for the past ten minutes, whispering and giggling, darting behind their moms. One of them points at Daisy.
Another one stares way too long at Lorenzo, which, honestly, mood. Rava sees them too.
The group approaches. Tiny feet stomping in the sand. Big eyes. Little braids. One of them has sand on her face like she just came from battle. They march up to Daisy. "Can we sit with you and do your hair?" And Daisy straight-up squeals. "Oh my GOD," she says, nearly throwing her cards in the air. "YES!"
Suddenly we’re surrounded. Likesurroundedsurrounded. Five, six, seven kids—where the hell did they come from?!
Are they spawning?
One plops between me and Rava. Another starts unpacking tiny hair clips from her pink unicorn purse fast, like she’s clocking in for a shift.
"What just happened?" Noah whispers from across the towel. "I think we got adopted," Lorenzo says, letting a kid draw hearts on his arm with sunscreen. Rava has a little boy crawling over his legs with a toy shark. Daisy is a human salon chair.Lorenzo is teaching a toddler how to say the word "tequila" for some reason.
I look around. I look at us. Sunburnt idiots, covered in sand, looking like we’re running a very illegal summer camp.
"Okay," I mutter, "what the actual fuck."
There’s a tiny human next to me. She’s got sand on her face, and this very serious expression, like she just got back from filing taxes. And she’s been staring at me.
Not in a"wow, you're so cool"way.
In a"you better not screw this up"kind of way.
Like she’s five and already disappointed in me. Meanwhile, Rava is sitting right next to me being some sort of mythical, storybook prince.
This little boy is perched on his knee, clinging to him, eyes wide and locked onto Rava’s face, acting like he just met Jesus Christ himself.
And of course, Rava is smiling, talking to him about sharks and what it’s like to swim in deep water, all soft and patient and glowing.
And I’m just here. Sweating.
