Page 68 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
‘And maybe I’ll even give her a kiss goodnight,’ I say more calmly. Flashes of Torino, late at night, hands tangled in her hair, in her skirt. Remembering the hesitancy of her lips at first. How she sighed into me when our lips brushed. I bite my tongue to snap out of the memory.
‘Ew. Please, that’s my sister,’ Dante says, and then hesitantly smiles. I scoff, mouth open to retort, but he cuts me off. ‘Fine, alright. Jesus. Take her on a date. Give her flowers. Buy her a small plot of land in Scotland and make her a Lady.’
I release him with a final shove that sends him into a coughing fit. ‘I really fucking hate you.’
Dante brushes his shirt off and readjusts the collar and I turn around to eat the shit out of a piadina. ‘No, you really fucking don’t.’
I turn around quickly and he flinches. Unable to hide my smile, I bend forward and cackle loudly.
‘Not funny,’ he murmurs, smoothing his brick-hard hair. ‘You’re the one who said you’d hit me. Now that we’ll have to find shrooms the old-fashioned way, I’ll need to seduce the streets.’
‘Oh, you should have seen the look on your face. You thought I was going to do it!’ I say, still bent over.
‘Ha ha. “Look, I made Dante flinch!” Good one. Are we ever going to leave this damp corner you’ve sequestered me in or are you planning on spanking me also?’
I stand straight and sigh happily. Am I going to ask Magdalen on a date? My stomach clenches at the thought. I imagine kissing her shoulder at the dinner table and immediately I know. I imagine finishing what we started underneath that archway.
‘Lead the way, signore.’
‘Okay, but we’re getting some piadine before the beach. All this fighting has exhausted me.’
‘Just start walking, Dante.’
‘Okay, okay.’ He opens his mouth to say something else but decides against it and just smiles before turning around and walking off.
39
MAGDALEN
After our fifth time around il budello, I’m obligated to speak up. Anika has already changed my bathing suit top, bought us matching beaded sarongs and purchased a professional ear-piercing gun.
‘You like books, right? Let’s go into the bookstore,’ she chirps as we approach a quiet side street. There’s a single lamppost at the end of the alley. We start walking down further and I see a wooden sign hanging on top of a bright green door. It swings in the breeze and the rusty hinges squeak with the movement. LIBRI USATI.
‘Anika, we’re not wearing shirts. They’re never going to let us in,’ I whisper harshly before she opens the door.
She rolls her eyes and grabs my wrist with the hand not occupied with her dozen shopping bags. ‘It’s Alassio, not the Vatican, you idiot. Everyone is in their bathing suits.’
The doorbell chimes as we enter and instantly the smell of old books floods through. It’s a heady and nostalgic scent, so peaceful that my eyes almost close. When the door shuts behind us, the noises of Alassio’s busy streets disappear, the store suddenly hushed. Like finding a damp cave during a rainfall, I’m overcome with calm from such a noiseless space.
‘Buonasera,’ says an old woman sitting behind the counter. Only the top of her head pokes out from over the desk; when she speaks, I see that the front row of her teeth is missing.
I nod hello and walk further down into the aisles of books. Anika and I split up, and I begin to make my way down to the nineteenth-century literature section. The store is dark and cool, the lack of windows in the back keeps sunlight from heating up the place, and I sigh happily.
The floor creaks behind me in the Russian literature section and I flinch, momentarily startled. I turn right and walk down the aisle when I hear footsteps behind me again. The footsteps are too loud and far-apart to be Anika’s. Alright, don’t get ahead of yourself, Magdalen. I casually continue down the aisle and turn left this time. When I’m halfway down the next aisle, the footsteps halt.
I look up to check what section I’m in and catch a scribbled MYTHOLOGY AND FOLKLORE note on the top shelf. Turning around to track my way back to the nineteenth-century literature aisle, I suddenly slam into something hard and lose my balance when two hands grip my shoulders, keeping me from falling over.
‘Mhm,’ a deep voice says, close to my ear. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were running away from me.’
I know before I look, by the hard planes of his chest.
‘Stalking me again?’ My eyes can’t seem to meet his. I think of Anika’s confession. Of his eyes red and swollen. I think of his words: The only reason you’re kissing me is because you’re too afraid to fucking talk to anyone else. I flinch unwillingly and take a step back. Theo must notice my change because he instantly drops his hands from my shoulders.
‘Sorry.’ He rubs the back of his neck. ‘I wasn’t trying to scare you but I couldn’t think of anything to say when I saw you come in the bookstore.’
‘It’s okay.’
He tries to smile, but only one side of his mouth raises and he gives up instantly.
