For half a breath we’re frozen in the world’s most awkward hug, so close I can see his irises are the same bluey-green as the water around us. I go hot all over, and not because I nearly face-planted on to the deck.
‘Stai attenta,’ he mutters, basically prising me off him.
NowthisI understand. My Italian teacher’s always telling me to pay attention, especially when he catches me doodling. What exactly is Leo’s problem? Is he so full of himself he thinks I’m going to throw myself at him?
OK. Technically, I just did. But still.
We sit at opposite ends of the bench seat as Veronica guides us into open water. The air smells sharp, like the loch back home when the wind stirs it up, only saltier.
‘Have you been to Venice before?’ Veronica asks, pitching her voice over the engine.
‘First time in Italy,’ I admit. ‘Actually … first time abroad.’
Her eyes go round, but she recovers fast. ‘How charming. Then it will be your first love.’
We pick up speed and I grip my stomach as we scud over the choppy waves.
‘Seasick?’ Leo asks, smirking.
I shake my head, not about to confess I’ve never been on a speedboat either.
‘It’s a short ride, only fifteen or twenty minutes,’ Veronica reassures me. ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing your work,’ she adds. ‘Silvia Rossetti had wonderful things to say about your portfolio, but she hasn’t sent it to me yet.’
Silvia Rossetti, the course supervisor. She’s the contact my mum – well, me pretending to be my mum – has been emailing about the placement. The praise is nice, but what I really need is that Inter-STEAM certificate if I’m going to have any chance of getting into art college without a Higher in the subject.
‘Probably too bad to share,’ I mumble.
Leo scoffs and rolls his eyes. Veronica laughs like it’s a joke.
It isn’t. Being out of the art room, with no materials or classmates, really knocked my confidence.Rebel has helped loads. He’s the most supportive user on the Art Exchange. Honest, but never mean. It was the first thing I noticed about him.
Even so, I still wobble. My portfolio was only part of the application. What if I was the only student on free school meals, and they had to give it to me? I hate that my brain goes there. I make myself think about all the new art I’ll be able to show Rebel instead.
A chill settles into my bones as the boat hums along. My jacket’s bunched in my lap, but I can’t put it on – I’m too embarrassed by how cheap and horrible it would look next to Leo’s puffa, the kind that probably has real down feathers.
Ten minutes later, I’m about to give in and wear the jacket when Venice emerges from the mist like a magical land. Ancient, ornate buildings rise straight up beside us, close enough to touch. As we move through a city with roads made of water, I want to capture all the wonderful details for a million collages. The green shutters, the crumbling red brickwork, the iron balconies, the crooked wooden poles poking out of the depths like gnarled witchy fingers.
Veronica slows when a barge with a crane on top blocks our way, forcing us to wait while it unloads a sling of planks on to a half-built outdoor stage. ‘Carnevale,’ she mutters. ‘Every year it’s the same.February is the worst time to visit, I’m afraid.’
I nod politely, not wanting to admit I’d been looking forward to the festival. I watched a few videos online and the masks and costumes fit perfectly with my myths and folklore obsession. Airfares for the weekend skyrocketed because of it, so it’s lucky they asked me to come earlier. It’s meant skipping a couple more days of school, but it’s February break in Scotland next week, so most teachers are already winding things down.
Leo disappears into his phone as Veronica navigates the floating traffic jam, but I don’t mind the delay. I could glide around this city forever, even with Leo-Leonardo beside me. Especially now that the winter light is already fading and beautiful Narnia-style lamps reflect on the water’s surface, dancing like will-o’-the-wisps. It’s easy to imagine magical creatures lurking just out of sight. It’s ridiculously beautiful. More beautiful, even, than the boy sitting next to me.
What a stupid comparison, I think to myself, instantly embarrassed. And I kind of get why Griselda’s always on at me to make a good first impression when I meet new people. They stick. Because even though he’s a grumpy goblin right now, my first impression of Leo was of a handsome faerie prince.
Veronica secures the boat in front of a fancy palazzo – a grand old building with beautiful stone cornices framing a frescoed façade. Plants spill from the pot-bellied window grilles and, unlike the others, this one has an arched doorway opening straight on to the canal.
‘I do hope you’ll be comfortable here with us,’ Veronica says. And it takes a minute for her words to make sense. Horrible sense.
Here? With us?
This is their home? I had assumed it was the art school.
‘Oh … I was told I’d be staying with another student,’ I manage.
Veronica laughs. ‘You are. Leonardo’s the best in the class.’
My heart sinks below the waterline. Of course. Leonardo. As in, da Vinci. Who I now have to share a houseandlessons with.
