Page 16 of Vicious Intentions
Chapter 3
Annamaria
Fifteen years old
Rafe:What are you up to today?
I smile at the text and flop onto the bed, kicking my feet up as I stare at the screen. Most of my mornings tend to begin this way. With a message from Raffaele.
It’s been almost two years since we started texting, and apart from a few phone calls here and there, this is how we prefer to be present in each other’s lives. It’s easy. Familiar. Safe. It’s everything and more. Some days, it’s all I have to hold onto.
Every time that thought crosses my mind, guilt follows close behind. I have a home. Food on the table. A roof over my head. A family that loves me. And yet, it’s Raffaele’s texts that bring me true joy.
Me:First class. Then piano recital. And later tonight, I have to go to a fundraiser with my parents.
Rafe:Boring!
I laugh because I can almost picture him rolling his eyes.
Rafe:Ditch school. Ditch the recital. And definitely ditch spending Friday night with old rich farts.
Rafe:Ditch it all. Go have fun instead.
I let out a sigh and turn over in my bed, burying my face between my pillows.
The way Raffaele is always so hungry for all that life has to offer would be contagious if it wasn’t so depressing by comparison.
Even if by some miracle I were brave enough to cut class, skip recital, and come up with an excuse to miss the fundraiser tonight, where would I go? What would I even do? Who would I have fun with?
The only friend I have is him, and he lives in another state. It’s not like I can drop everything and go see him in New York.
Not that I would, even if I could. In my house, New York has become synonymous with scum. Any time the Donato name is so much as mentioned, my entire family seems to sour, as if the surname itself were cursed.
Knowing he’s waiting for a response, I spin onto my back and type something else instead.
Me:What about you? What are you doing today?
Rafe:School. Home.
I frown. Where is his zest for life now?
Me:That’s it?
Rafe:What else?
My brows pinch together as the three little bubbles bounce up and down on the screen as he weaves another reply.
Rafe:I’ll also be texting the prettiest girl in all of Chicago the whole night through. Does that count?
I smile, small and shy.
Me:That counts.
Rafe:Then that’s what I’ll be doing. Unless my asshole of a father springs something on us.
My smile fades instantly.
Raffaele has made it clear over the years that there’s no love lost between him, his brothers, and their father. In fact, I think they all hate the man, which still surprises me.
