Page 24 of The Fall Affair

“Thank you again for taking me to get the tub.”

I nodded. “And thank you for helping pick dis morning.” I whistled to jostle Lupo, who had already laid down at my feet. “Let’s go, boy.”

“Ciao.” She smiled, and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. It was definitely time to go. Because the only other time a woman had given me that feeling, I should’ve run, not walked, away.

Chapter 8

Matteo

15 years ago

WHAT THE HECK is she doing?

I sat on the bleachers, sweat dripping from my brow, waiting for my group to be called to the field for football tryouts. The sun blazed over the metal benches, making them almost too hot to sit on. Around me, everyone else focused on the drills the coach was running with the current group, but I couldn’t look away from what was going on under the bleachers.

The new girl had tied a length of string between two of the bench bottoms, and she was carefully balancing pebbles along it, one by one. Every three or four added, she’d step back, tilt her head, and smile as she examined her work.

It wasn’t the nutty project itself that caught me; it was the smile. Every time she did it, I felt a weird ache in my stomach—like I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. But I’d had a big breakfast and lunch today.

Isabella.

That was her name. I knew because my sister had come home talking about her a few days ago. She was new in school—new to Italy—and apparently the coolest girl ever. Luciana gushed about how her new friend made jewelry out of flowers—bracelets braided from grass, daisy-chain hair crowns, and pressed flowers encased in clear resin on chains made from cord.

Isabella took a step to the right as she added more pebbles, and her face disappeared behind the bench. I leaned down, pretending to tie my shoelaces, to get a better look. Who even thinks of doing stuff like that? Flower jewelry I could understand. Though I didn’t know any other girls in their first year of high school who had that kind of hobby. But balancing pebbles on a string like they were little acrobats? That was…different.

Isabella stepped back again, smiled at her line of stones, and then turned and looked straight at me. Long, blond hair framed her pretty face.

“Do you want to help, or are you just going to stare at me all day?”

We’d been learning English since starting school, but I didn’t understand everything she said.

Seeing the confused look on my face, she tried again. “Aiuto?” she said. Help?

I pointed to myself, silently asking, Me?

She rolled her eyes. “Si. Aiuto…or stop looking.”

I glanced at the field and the guys I’d been sitting with. Coach Marconi blew his whistle and gestured for my group. The sun really must’ve gotten to me because I was momentarily torn between blowing off tryouts and playing with rocks with this girl. Everyone started to run down the bleachers. I had to go or I wasn’t going to make the team.

“Tra pochi minuti,” I yelled. In a few minutes.

She shrugged and went back to her pebbles. I ran to the field, but my mind kept wandering to the bleachers. The minute tryouts ended, I sprinted back, but Isabella was gone. The only sign she’d been there was a perfect, full line of pebbles balanced on a string.

***

A week later, I came home from football practice, still dripping sweat and smelling like I’d forgotten to put on deodorant that morning, even though I had. I froze as I came up the driveway. There she was again—Isabella—sitting cross-legged on the front lawn next to my mother’s flower garden, across from my sister. The two of them were braiding something, and there was a pile of daisies between them.

I tried to play it cool and lifted my chin. “Ciao.”

Isabella smiled, and I tripped over my own two feet, landing flat on my ass.

My sister cracked up and looked at her friend. “How do you say in Inglese? Smooth?”

Isabella leaned over. “Are you okay?”

I dusted myself off and tried to save face. “Leg cramps. From practicing hard today.”

Luciana rolled her eyes. “He thinks he’s the king of football because he’s da captain.”