Page 38 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
‘Oh, Theo. A girl always knows when a man is thinking about someone else.’ Her tone is light but I can tell she’s disappointed. Feeling fucking awful, I make the effort to rest my hand on her knee, rubbing small circles on her thigh, thinking of another girl the entire time.
‘Right now, I’m not thinking about anyone but you.’ My voice is low, a tremor behind the last word that I try to ignore for the sake of us both. She’s right. But it’s all I can offer right now. She stares at me, a smile touching her lips, but the uncertainty remains. It’s supposed to be fun, a night out with a beautiful woman should be the escape I so desperately need. Removing my hand, I take another sip of my drink.
‘I really don’t care who you think about,’ she says while reaching into her handbag for a cigarette, ‘as long as you say my name when you come.’ I stare at her from behind my glass, finishing off the drink before signalling to the bartender through the window for another.
‘Jesus Christ, Chiara.’ I can’t help it. I burst out in laughter, my eyes shut in a combination of mortification and amusement. ‘Thank you for giving me your number,’ I say, and now it’s her turn to blush, and she leans further into her chair so that her skirt rises slightly, beckoning me to look at the smooth skin on display. ‘I’m honoured to fulfil all your wildest fantasies.’
So the night goes on and we catch up on life since high school. By the time I take her hand, warm from the summer heat, the table is left with only discarded orange peels and empty glasses. We stumble together, and I let her lazily lead us up a marble staircase towards her apartment.
21
MAGDALEN
‘Anika, if you move one more time, I will honest to god slit your throat,’ I huff while using the back of my hand to swipe away the hair that has somehow landed on my face. Groaning, she squirms in the wooden chair that’s propped in the middle of the backyard, wearing nothing but a faded orange bikini and a pair of Dante’s flip-flops.
‘It’s too hot for this,’ she complains again, and I remind her that she’s the one who asked me to cut her hair for the dinner party tonight. Anika’s whining snaps me from my thoughts and I quickly make a show of combing her hair. ‘My hair is sticking to my tits and I’m all itchy.’ She tries to wipe away some fallen hair but I grab her wrist.
‘Hold still, Anika,’ I sing-song, but obviously this does nothing.
‘But—’
‘Hold. Still.’ I press her back into the chair, which she once again tries to escape from, and finish the gruelling process of cutting her long hair, which I have managed to only reduce a few inches. After being cursed out in Italian, English and some French dialect that she refuses to translate, I finally give up.
‘Alright, you’re done. Please get out of my face,’ I sigh as she grabs the small mirror lying on the grass and looks at herself in the reflection, shaking out the freshly cut strands with her fingers.
‘I look so good!’ she squeals, and jumps up from the chair, shaking the excess hair off her chest and torso, screaming: ‘Vittoria, guarda com’è bello Mag mi ha tagliato i capelli!’ Look at how beautiful Mag cut my hair!
She skips over and kisses me loudly on the cheek, while smacking my butt on her way into the kitchen to show my mother her new haircut. I exhale loudly, watching her prance through the sliding doors, their laughter fading as they ogle her hair in the bathroom mirror. Taking the broom from the garden shed, I begin to sweep the ground when I hear the wooden gate creak open.
Dante was in town playing poker with some men from the club, so I expect to see him when I turn to greet the rustling noise. But it isn’t Dante. Another crisp white T-shirt that outlines the hard planes of his torso and those blue jeans frayed at the knee. Theo stands next to the tall cypress trees that line the walkway into the garden, leaves brushing his bare forearms as he halts when he sees me. Eyes widening for a moment, he dips his head in silent greeting, looking me over quickly before returning his gaze to my face.
‘Ciao, Magdalen.’
‘Back to Magdalen? I was just getting used to Maggie.’
‘Your name’s too pretty to cut short.’ Stunned, I can do nothing but look at him. He’s been here for less than two weeks and already his skin has taken on a deep bronze, the long hair that’s curled around his ears is lighter after baking in the afternoon sun.
‘Thank you.’ I know I’m blushing. ‘Buon giorno, Theo.’ I nod politely and continue sweeping the area, feeling self-conscious and domestic as I do so in front of him. My hands squeeze the broom handle with a little more force than needed when he makes no effort to leave.
I look up at him again, determination not to be made a fool propelling me forward. I promise myself that I will not fall victim to the allure of someone who does not want me.
‘Can I help you?’ I ask.
‘Either you just cut someone’s hair or I am witness to the aftermath of extremely kinky foreplay.’
Forcing a small smile, I rest the broom on the garden shed and wipe my hands on my torso. ‘Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.’ I mean for it to come out as a joke but my voice is too sharp, already failing at my plan to stop a crush before it has space to grow. But if Theo catches my attitude then he doesn’t let it show.
‘I know,’ he says with such ease, looking at me with those intense grey eyes so that I want to roll up into a ball and hide underneath the hydrangeas until he goes back to whatever state he came from. But I can’t. So I opt for deflection and bend to pick up the towel Anika left, folding it slowly as I think of something to make him leave.
‘Dante is at the club playing poker.’
‘I know,’ he repeats, this time with a flicker of annoyance in his voice. ‘Can’t I want to see my friend?’ Despite the warm sun across my back, his deep voice causes goosebumps to prickle my forearm, and I will myself to avert my gaze as he steps closer to me. The familiar scent of him envelops me but before I have time to process his words, that he’s here even though Dante is not, he steps past me, the edges of his mouth curling up in a small smile as he settles into the chair. I blink, as if coming out of a spell, and curse myself for being so easily mesmerized by the Theo charm. Remember, he does not want me, I try to tell myself, but the words seem so far away with him so close to me. Crossing one long leg over the other, he rests his hands on his thighs and looks up.
‘One haircut, please.’
‘There is absolutely no way I’m cutting your hair!’ I shriek, laughing as I back away from the chair before he has time to hypnotize me again.
‘Anika’s hair is long – a few inches barely changes anything. But with you – I could seriously ruin your reputation! You could look like Charles the Second or an escaped prisoner.’ I shake my head. ‘I’m not going to be responsible for your scorned beauty, no way. There will be a mob of pitchforks at my front door! Do you want me to be executed?’ My lungs burn by the time I’m finished, hands on my hips in defiance. But he just stares at me with that same arrogant grin, batting his eyelashes.
