Page 12 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
I frown at her. ‘What?’
‘My ghosts dance for free tonight.’
I try to smile but feel oddly exposed. Ghost? My skin prickles. Has Matilde become the guard between life and death? If I touch her, do I become transparent, forced to dance for ever at Tirumapifort?
I grab her hand and squeeze, ‘Grazie mille, Matilde. I missed you, too.’
My hand subconsciously reaches for my neck, feeling for a pulse. Okay, still alive. Still pumping blood. My dancing will have a curfew tonight, Matilde!
‘You’ve become so beautiful,’ she calls out as we pass her. It is always the same reaction when people call me beautiful. An internal flinch of muscle. The rational part of me understands how silly being pretty is. How quickly it fades.
But the other part, the part of my brain dusted with cobwebs and self-doubt, wants to believe someone thinks I am.
‘Grazie, Matilde. I’ll dance for you tonight.’
10
THEO
‘Anika! You finally going to fuck me tonight?’ Dante yells from the deep end of the pool, where he floats in his usual uniform of Diesel jeans and Lacoste polo, bobbing his head up and down in the chlorine illuminated by the tall lamps around the club. Not giving a single shit that he’ll have to go home soaking wet. Only his hand remains high above the water level, elegantly fingering a cigarette that remains untouched by the water.
‘My sister, mate,’ I remind him from the pool chair I sit on.
‘Fuck, sorry.’ He looks down with mock shame. ‘Anika, baby, are you finally going to make deep, passionate, mind-altering love to me tonight?’ Dante rephrases.
I laugh because I know Anika will take care of it. In your dreams, D, I say through my silence.
Almost every man is staring at Anika as she peruses the rows of pool chairs, the fabric of her dress providing the same security as cheesecloth, leaving every inch of her visible underneath that pathetic excuse of an outfit. I look away, both angry and impressed by her. There is no use fighting little sisters over little dresses.
‘Dante, I would rather cut off that microscopic thing you call a penis and eat it before I ever fucked you,’ she says breezily, but there is less heart in it than usual. She is distracted. Her gaze is scattered as she searches around the pool, and it registers that she is looking for me. She nervously combs her fingers through the ends of her hair and sighs when the other brunette men she’s tapped on the shoulder are not me. And it’s like I can see what she’s thinking: that I have disappeared again, throwing up a middle finger and speeding back to the airport without even a goodbye.
And then she spots me. ‘Brother!’ Anika barrels over with relief, pausing to remove the stilettos that, unsurprisingly, interfere with her ability to run.
‘These motherfuckers!’ she mumbles, and grabs hold of an innocent bystander’s arm and pulls the heels off. The guy’s eyes drift to her chest and she winks.
‘Anika, you look lovely,’ I lie.
‘You liar.’ She rolls her eyes and sits next to me, and I cringe as her dress moves further up her legs.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I divert the conversation.
‘How chivalrous! I sent Maggie to get one, but poor thing is probably too scared to go up to the bar. Are you not drinking?’ She looks down at my cup of water with complete disappointment.
‘No, not tonight. Jet lag and alcohol.’ I pathetically try to connect the two as reasons enough for my sobriety. I’m actually desperate for a drink. But the gin from earlier still settles in my stomach and, in truth, I’m afraid of what I may say under the influence. ‘I’ve never seen Magdalen here,’ I say, changing the subject, looking down at my cup.
Fishing a cigarette from her purse, she mumbles, ‘I had to drag her ass here. She’s only been a few times after you left.’ She lights the cigarette and turns, looking at me. ‘You know, you should try to be nice to her. She’s shy, uncomfortable. You two are more alike than you think. Both hot and annoyingly fucking smart. The only difference is that she isn’t a raging whore like you. I forgot to get the update from her, but, if I’m not mistaken, she’s still never even—’ She shakes her head to stop herself and takes a deep drag of the cigarette.
‘She’s never what?’
Anika exhales from the side of her mouth. ‘Oh please, like Dante hasn’t told you.’
‘Told me what?’
‘Let’s just say, she has enough innocence to save us all.’ She makes the sign of the cross and continues her rant. ‘Can you please go see where the fuck she went? I’m too sober to look at Dante’s face and discuss Magdalen’s sex history.’
Dante’s head jerks from the pool, cigarette slightly wet. ‘Heard that, cunt! Don’t say that word when talking about my sister.’
Anika forgets about me immediately, her voice piercing as she begins to humiliate Dante in front of every girl within ten metres of him.
