Never Truth

27

Enzo’s curious gaze collided with a brick wall when it landed on me. I had no idea what to tell the man, or not to tell him. Therefore, I schooled my features to an absolute vacuum of emotion. His eyes narrowed just a touch, and his chin lifted as he stepped aside to let me escort Sofia upstairs. I’d been so caught up in debating how to handle Enzo that I hadn’t realized Sofia was taking in our entire exchange. When my eyes finally came to hers, dawning realization dilated her pupils and flared her nostrils. That was when it hit me just how practiced she was at keeping her cards held tightly to her chest. Anyone else who had just connected the dots between her father’s mafia affiliation and her ex-boyfriend wouldn’t have been able to contain their surprise. But Sofia … her reaction was nearly imperceptible. She turned toward the stairs and hurried up with me close on her heels, which was good because she attempted to slam her bedroom door in my face. Fortunately, I managed to get my foot through the threshold before it could shut and forced my way inside. “You work for him, don’t you?” she hissed, chest bobbing with her ragged breaths. “Is that why you left? You chose your career over me?” “Of course, it wasn’t that simple. None of it was my choice. And don’t you go acting all self-righteous when you were hoarding secrets of your own like a goddamn squirrel getting ready for winter.” I shot back my response in an equally hushed tone, both of us attempting to keep our argument from being overheard. “Telling you about Marco wouldn’t have changed anything,” Sofia responded. “And it wasn’t my place to tell you about my father.” “Oh, but I should have told you about him? That sounds like quite the double standard.” “Not my father. You should have told me about you. You were the one I loved. You should have trusted me.” “It had nothing to do with trust and everything to do with protecting you. I told you that already. I wasn’t going to drag you into that world.” “But you knew—you knew my father was involved and that I was already neck-deep in the mafia, but you pushed me away anyway. Is that right?” Her eyes blazed, and I could feel solid metal doors closing between us. “I knew your father was connected, yes.” “So instead of trusting me with the truth, you walked away.” With those words, the locks slid shut. Nothing I could say would penetrate. “I did what I thought was best when backed into a terrible situation at the age of sixteen. If that’s something you can’t forgive, then there’s nothing else to say.” I turned my back and walked from the room, my heart hardening to reinforced concrete when her voice never rang out to call me back. We’d both been equally at fault for the way our relationship had unfolded, and if she couldn’t see that, there was nothing I could do. OceanofPDF.com “Three whole months of summer apart, then I’ll be in the high school wing and will hardly even see you at school. It sucks.” Nico took black paint and wrote out the word “sucks” on his blank canvas. Our art teacher had given us free rein to paint during the last week of school after we had taken our final exam. I was happy for any opportunity I could get to paint, but Nico was only in the class to spend time with me. While I worked on capturing the shimmer of stars in a night sky, he was airing his frustrations about our limited time together. “We’ll find a way to see each other, and there’s a slim chance we could have the same lunch period next year.” I turned on my stool to face him, unable to hide my smile at his uncharacteristic pout. “Yeah, right. We’d never be that lucky.” Eighth graders rarely had lunch with the high schoolers, but on the rare occasion when a schedule couldn’t be worked out otherwise, it had been known to happen. I was just as skeptical as he was, but I wanted to cheer him up. As the end of school approached, we took turns slipping into bouts of frustration over our circumstances. Today, it would seem, was my turn to cheer on the team. “Things could be worse. I could be going to boarding school, or your parents could move you to public school.” I gave him an encouraging look. When he simply scowled in response, I lifted my long wooden brush and dabbed white paint on the end of his nose. For a heartbeat, we both gaped at each other, stunned at what I’d done. Breaking the trance, I burst out laughing, doubling over in a fit of giggles. Nico finally gave in, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?” “Oh, I know I’m funny.” “If you’re so tickled at yourself, you can do the honors of cleaning up your little mess.” Shaking his head, he took my wrist and pulled me toward the back of the room. The other students continued painting, ignoring our antics, and our teacher was absorbed in grading exams at the front of the room. I walked to the large utility sink, but the paper towel dispenser was empty. “Let me grab a new pack of towels.” Nico followed me into the large walk-in supply closet full of a vast array of art supplies. We both scanned the shelves that lined the small room, searching for the paper goods.