Page 37 of Marcello

“And who’s this?” Federica asked as she picked up the picture of Mama, Gemma, and Edoardo. “Your family?”

I froze for a second in a panic –

Then stormed across the room and snatched it out of her hand. “GIVE ME THAT!”

I only took the photo – not the money.

The picture was all I gave a fuck about.

Fede looked shocked, but she didn’t try to hold onto the photo.

However, she did get angry.

“Is that your mom? Why are you hiding it?”

“Why the fuck are you going through my stuff?!” I asked angrily.

“Why don’t you ever talk about them?”

“Why are you going through my stuff?!” I said in a louder voice.

“Stop avoiding my questions!” she snapped.

“Stop avoiding mine, then!”

She didn’t just avoid them, she ignored them. “And where’d all this money come from?”

I’d already prepared a lie in case this exact situation ever arose. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but I saved it up in Florence before I moved here.”

“Why aren’t you keeping it in the bank?”

I had another lie ready to go. It helped that it fit neatly with my habit of cashing my paycheck every week and giving Federica most of it to help with rent.

“Because my parents have access to my bank account, that’s why. Once I left town, they could’ve withdrawn everything to force me to come back home.”

My explanation threw her, but only momentarily.

“You’re 21 years old and you don’t have your own bank account?” she sneered.

“I opened it when I was 16!” I yelled at her. “And I’ve kind of been too busy hanging out with you to get a new one! Now, if you’re done interrogating me, WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU GOING THROUGH MY STUFF?!”

“I found it by accident,” she mumbled.

“The money was in the back of my drawer inside a sock. You didn’t ‘find it by accident’ – you were snooping. Why?”

“So you admit you were hiding it from me!” she yelled.

“From a THIEF – not from YOU! Now answer my question – why were you going through my shit?!”

“You always have money to buy food and drinks when we go out, and I couldn’t figure out where you got it from,” she said sullenly. “I know you don’t make enough at work, so… I looked around a little.”

“Oh – I buy you shit and pay for stuff, so that gives you the right to invade my privacy? Un-fucking-believable!”

“Well, you’ve got to admit, it’s kind of shady,” she said defensively.

“It’s not shady – I was just trying to be nice!” I yelled.

She didn’t say anything.