CRAVING U (The Rook Café) (25 page)

“What’s wrong
now?”  He had noticed a strange look on Marika’s face.  “What’s bothering you? 
Get bit by a tarantula?”

“Don’t even kid about
that!  You know how I am about spiders.”  She started rubbing her nose
vigorously, squirming about like she was on red-hot coals.

“You find that
radioactive insect yet?”  He had always given her a hard time about her
overreaction to all members of the bug world.

But the moment of
innocence sputtered out quickly as Marika picked up a glitter-pink lighter that
had fallen into the cracks of the seat.  “I believe this belongs to Lucrezia.” 
Her voice had suddenly fallen flat.

Matteo took the
lighter and threw it into a corner of the dashboard, feigning indifference with
little success.  “How was your thing at the university?”

“Interesting.” 
She gladly accepted his silent invitation to avoid the subject, since Lucrezia
was the last thing she wanted to talk about at that moment.  “Fun too.”  She
dove into a detailed description of all of the different majors and minors
offered by the law school, and even regaled him with an architectural
description of the building and hall where the meeting was held.

“So it’s
official: in a little more than a year, you’ll be a full-blooded law student in
Padua.”  It was an obvious conclusion that served only to show how proud he was
of her.

“And you will be
a professional soccer player in Milan.”  She tossed her gaze and her heart out
the window as she raised her second-least favorite topic.  “What’s the news
from
San Carlo
?”

Matteo was
surprised.  He never had imagined that it would be possible to talk about this
experience with her.  Since his very first day in Milan, he had felt as though
something were missing, and that something was her.  “Well, there’s lots of
news.  First of all, I’ve gone through the first practice sessions and all of
their medical tests.”

“And the results?”
she asked anxiously; despite her deep-seated desire to keep him all for
herself, she wanted him to be happy even more... and happiness for him meant
one thing:
San Carlo
.

“I passed.”  His
face lit up in the half-light of the iridescent dashboard lights.  “Their
sports center is like a dream, you should see it!  Braidi has been with me the
entire time, looking out for me.  The staff is amazing, and Coach Beretta seems
to really know his stuff.”

“I’m happy for
you.”  Marika took a packet of mints from her backpack and offered them to him
before tossing a couple into her own mouth.  “Have they given you any clue
about their plans for you yet?” she mumbled, her teeth cracking into the mints.

“Well,” he
hesitated, “yeah, I guess they have.  They have already told me unofficially that
they want me to come with the club to their summer retreat in Val Seriana. 
They fully expect me to pass the try-out.”

“Ah.  So you won’t
be home all summer then.”  Marika thought she saw Matteo’s eyes well up at
these words.  Or maybe it was just the effect of the oncoming traffic.  “And
what’s the big surprise in that?  You’re fantastic, and the people at
San
Carlo
know talent when they see it.”

“There’s another
thing,” he admitted cautiously, “something that I haven’t said to a soul yet
and which you will probably be the only person I tell.”  His voice was a
mixture of passion and fear.  “I don’t know the hows or the whys of it, but
Canosi mentioned that there’s even the possibility of playing on their major
league team.  You know, directly in Serie A without passing through the youth
squad.”

“Wow.”  It was
all she could say.  Nothing else would come out.  She felt as if she had been
totally emptied, once again.

“That’s what I
thought.  ‘Wow!’  But I don’t want to lie to you.”  His fingers were drumming
nervously on the steering wheel.  “The truth is that I’m fucking terrified of
failing and of disappointing the people I love.”  He didn’t take his eyes from
the road.  “I’m even afraid of disappointing you.”

“Me?”  Her heart
was thumping, her mouth went dry, and she forgot to breathe.  “That’s
impossible,” she said, smiling at him through her palpitations.  “I don’t know
anyone who deserves this chance more than you.  I always knew that you were too
talented to remain at
Brenta
forever.”

Matteo breathed
in deeply and then pushed all of the built-up tension out of his lungs at
once.  He kept his eyes on the highway.

“Lots of people
have lots of expectations about your future, and I can only imagine the
pressure you are under.”  Her voice was intensely emotional.  “But you have to
believe me.  Every single one of them loves you more than they want you to
become famous and successful.  It won’t be a cake-walk, obviously, but
....
”

He interrupted
her.  “Does that go for you too?” he asked, his face reflected in the
windshield.

“Present company
excluded, obviously!”  She smiled stupidly, while his lips formed the
beginnings of a smile.  “I’m kidding!  Of course that goes for me too,” she
said.  “I don’t care at all about
San Carlo
, Serie A, and all the rest.” 
Marika lowered her face to hide her eyes shyly behind her long brown hair.  “For
me, you are and always will be just Matteo.”  She dabbed at her swollen eyes
and quickly dried a tear that overflowed.

Matteo gripped
the steering wheel even harder, put on the right-hand blinker, and pulled over.

“Everything’s OK,
you don’t have to stop,” she moaned, floundering about in the storm of
electricity that had been unleashed between them.  “It’s my time of the month:
I’m bloated, I cry at the drop of a hat, and I’m irascible.”  Liar!  She had
had her period a week ago, but she thought she would turn it to her advantage
at least once in her life.  “And I’m more irritable than usual this month.  Everything
seems black to me, and I get easily depressed.”  After all, the whole story
about pre-menstrual sensibility has been an easy way out for men ever since
Hippocrates described the erratic behavior of women just before menstruation.  “A
bit of chocolate, and it all goes away,” she smiled, making her face glow with
innocent sensuality.

Matteo vaguely
nodded.  He was confused and afraid of the power she held over him.  It was so
strong that it clouded his mind.  He got back onto the road and took the
conversation toward safer, more neutral topics about their daily lives.  He
felt like he was being a coward in avoiding those feelings that made him so
uncomfortable.  “I don’t have any chocolate, but I can always come up with a
chick-flick, you know, those tearjerkers that you all love,” he said, trying to
laugh through the lump in his throat.  “You can cry your heart out during the
love scenes.”

“Which is
preferable to you laughing out loud and ruining the moment!”  Marika accused
him of being cold, when in truth he was just uncomfortable with his own
emotions.  “It’s true, though, I love a good romantic comedy.  You got a
problem with that?”

“Nope.”  He
brushed his hand gently against her wet cheek.  “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course,” she
said, letting her head fall into the warmth of the palm of his hand as he
pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater.

“Don’t take this
thing with Lucrezia too seriously.”  His eyes burned with sincerity.

She nodded yes. 
Their friends were waiting for them behind the large glass doors of the
multiplex.  She raised the collar of her trench coat against the rain and made
a move as if heading for the back seat.

“Where are you
going?”  Matteo held her back.  “They can get in the back.”

The back doors
slammed shut, accompanied by a duet of “Hey guys!”  Then Carlotta added, “Finally! 
We were going to send out a search party.”  Dario shook his head.  “I think the
garage is going to be closed by now.  I’ll have to get my car tomorrow.”

“OK, OK, I get
it!  You’re right, it’s all my fault,” Marika said, taking the blame.  “My
apologies, but who knew about this damn train strike?”

Complaining and
joking all the way, they returned to Orgiano, where Carlotta and then Marika
were dropped off.  “Thanks for coming to get me,” she said to Matteo, outwardly
showing her gratitude for the ride from Padua, but inwardly thanking him for
having given her the gift of one more moment alone with him, shutting out the
rest of the world.  She felt euphoric, drunk, and at the same time confused. 
He was her drug, and physical contact between them was like liquid oxygen.

And so as the
clock struck 9, the car was occupied only by the two guys and the top ten
most-played songs of the weekend.  Matteo drove while Dario tried to find a
radio station that wasn’t running commercials.

“Who’s Federico?”
Matteo asked without any preliminaries as the car rolled up to a stoplight.

Thrown off guard
by the unexpected question, Dario got tangled up in the seat belt he was trying
to buckle.

“Dario!  Who is
Federico?” he asked again, implacable.

“Huh?  Who is he?”
he delayed.  “Brunelli!  Federico Brunelli, number 7 from
Dogado
,” he
said in one quick breath.

“Is there
something you’re not telling me?”  His voice was perfectly still, practically
frozen.

“Like what?” he
asked, trying to find out what Matteo already knew.

“Stop beating
around the bush.”  He was losing his patience.

“OK, OK.  Last
Saturday there was that three-team tournament at the stadium, right?  He was there
with his team.  I don’t know the circumstances, but we ran into him talking to
Marika.”  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “That night he and his band were
playing at
The Dark Crow
, and he invited us to come
....
”

“And so, when I
called you, you weren’t going home from the
Cherrybomb
.”

“No, we had just
left
The Dark Crow
,” he sighed.  “Sorry.”

“For what?”  He
smiled nervously.  “For having lied about the evening, or is there something
more?” he asked, biting his lower lip.

“Absolutely not! 
That’s all,” he said, “or at least all I know about it.”  Dario dropped back
into his seat.  “Anyway... you know... it’s hard to put into words... he’s like
your exact opposite.”

“What are you
talking about?”  His voice showed no anger, only concern.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean that he’s
all sweet, sensible, romantic
....
”  He made a puking gesture.  “Not that you
aren’t, deep down, but I think we can all admit that you don’t exactly enjoy
showing your feelings to others.”

Matteo kept his
hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, waiting breathlessly for more.

“I already had my
suspicions, but after seeing him that night, I am sure of it.”  Dario was
holding nothing back.

“What are you
sure of?”  His cracking voice was the physical sign of a soul in flames.

“He’s some kind
of... of
emo
.”

“No way.  All he’s
got is an emo haircut,” Matteo argued.

“And he even
sings!”  Dario sounded almost like he admired him.

“And so?”

“And so??” he
repeated, throwing up his hands.  “You know that girls go nuts for that sort of
thing, the suffering artist who dedicates depressing romantic songs to them.”

“Come on, Dario,
you’re not developing a man crush on him, are you?”  Matteo lowered his window,
even though it was still raining, and ran his hand through his hair.  “Maybe
Brunelli is an emo musician or maybe it’s all just an act, who knows?  I gotta
say that he didn’t look so tormented and spiritual when he scored on us and
then dedicated the goal to Marika.  He was just trying to hit on her, like any
other guy.  That’s it.”

“In any event, he
looks like he’s got a
real
crush on her,” Dario claimed.

“What’s he seen
her, twice?”

“You’re not going
to get all jealous now, are you?” Dario asked.  “You’ve had your entire life to
tell Marika what you feel for her, but you didn’t, and now you’re going to get
upset if she has a boyfriend?”

“He’s her
boyfriend?” Matteo asked quickly, turning a pale face toward his friend.

“No.  Not yet at
least,” he specified, zipping up his jacket.  “What’s your problem anyway? 
That it’s
him
?”

“
He
is
nothing to me.”  Matteo shrugged his shoulders.  “One guy or another... it’s
all the same.”

“What happened to
the whole ‘a man has to ride into battle alone’ crap?”

“Nothing has
happened to it, but I don’t want to lose her all the same, that’s all.  But I
get the feeling that she is slowly slipping away from me.”  He pulled the car
over in front of Dario’s house, his eyes staring into space.

“That’s a real
shame, but if it happens, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”  It was
the first time that Dario had spoken so openly, so harshly to Matteo.  “I
shouldn’t tell you this, Carlotta would kill me if she found out, but your
brilliant plan, the one that included that whole scene with Lucrezia at the
Villa, hurt Marika more than you can imagine.”  His lecture concluded, Dario
waited for a reaction that didn’t come.  Matteo just sat in that same position,
looking straight ahead and squeezing the wheel.  So he got out of the car and
said goodbye with a wave, already feeling sorry for having revealed so much. 
He hesitated at the door, looking back to see his friend stock-still,
overwhelmed by his thoughts and lost in his memories, which crashed down upon
him like so many raindrops on the hood of the car.