Page 92 of Vega

“My parents met in Italy. My mother was teaching English there. They moved back to Chicago when I was one.”

The interest that entered her face made me smile.

“Parli italiano? (Do you speak Italian?)” she asked.

I stared at her for a second before answering, “Sì. Lo parlo fluentemente. (Yes. I speak it fluently.)”

I watched her admiration settle over me as if speaking another language had revealed another layer that she hated she liked.

“You’re fluent in Italian?” I asked.

“I took it in college. I’m not fluent, but I know enough to follow a conversation.”

“Why Italian?”

“I thought the language was beautiful.” Her smile turned slightly shy. “And sexy. I visited Italy once too. It was part of a short study-abroad program.”

“Where?”

“Rome and Florence.”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it. The architecture, the food, the history. Everything felt older than anything I had ever seen here.”

“Prodigy’s father is my father’s brother,” I explained. “Our mothers are best friends. That’s why me, Wise, and Prodigy were raised so close. We’re cousins, but that word never felt like enough.”

“And Lux and Lowe?”

“Lux’s mother is my mother’s cousin. They’ve been around us forever too.”

Her brows met together. “Lux’s mother? Aren’t they twins?”

I laughed. “They are ghetto twins. They were born two days apart. Their father raised them together though, since he wasn’t in a relationship with either of their mothers.”

She started laughing. “Oh my God. But they look just alike.”

“That’s why they claim to be twins.”

Her gaze drifted toward the stove, but something in her expression changed. The admiration remained, mixed with an emptiness I recognized even if I had never experienced it myself. She was imagining what it would have been like to grow up surrounded by people who stayed. I wanted to erase that look. More than that, I wanted to give her a table full of people who knew her history, children running through a house that felt lived in, holidays where nobody forgot her, a family she never had to question.

I wanted to give Sonnet everything her eyes admitted she had missed.

17

PRODIGY MORETTI

Iwent to see my grandparents because I needed to get my mind off of Arielle. She had been on my mind for days. My father had been there longer than that. Every time I tried to focus on one problem, the other one stepped in front of it. I needed noise and family.

Knox rode with me because he claimed I shouldn’t be alone. I let him come because I needed the company.

My granny opened the door with a dish towel over her shoulder. “There go my baby.”

I bent down so she could kiss my cheek. “Hey, Granny.”

She looked behind me, smiling at Knox.

“How you doin’, Granny?” Knox greeted her.