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Victor
“Where are we going?”
Ethan turns around with a peeved expression and sees me sitting at the bottom of the hotel steps, legs stretched out in the sun. I’m driving the doorman and the valet crazy. I can’t stand being inside, but I’m not brave enough to go any further on my own.
“We’renot going anywhere.I’mgoing to spend a long time choosing sentimental souvenirs for my mom at the most boring shops imaginable.”
Leaning back on my elbows, I grin at his blatant attempt to shake me off. He’s getting a tan that looks good with his white Henley and tan shorts, like a closet cosplay of a rich European.
I can still hear his voice in my ear, quiet and honest.I hate you so much. Catching sight of him is becoming an obsession; when I look at him, I see something bright, a flame I can use to burn us to the ground.
“Where to first?” I put on my sunglasses and scramble to my feet. He’s close enough that I have to look up into his face. Something has changed. He’s not hiding anything from me now because we made the hate real, wove it like a covenant between our bodies. As long as he’s here, nothing bad can come near me because there’s no room for anything but him and me and the ways we hurt each other.
A little too fast, he turns around and walks away, unfolding a big, floppy map of the city. He acts like he’s trying to lose me, but every time I get too far behind, he slows down a little. It’s nice not to have to pretend we’re together, just for a few hours.
I follow him past a church with faded flowers painted on the pillars and up a hill with way too many steps. He stops someone to ask for directions, trying out his limited Italian vocabulary. Since we got here, his confidence has skyrocketed while mine has plummeted. Maybe that’s why I’m slowly losing the ability to function without him.
Finally, we turn down a narrow pedestrian street full of graffiti and cheap merchandise, overhung by balconies and full of the sound of pop music from one of the apartments. Just like he warned me, he takes fucking forever in every store while I sulk in the entry until the shopkeepers kick me out for blocking the flow of traffic.
At last, he emerges with a puzzle of one of the castles we walked past and a small, camel-colored purse.
“Are you finally satisfied?”
He drops the bag in my arms. “If you’re so desperate for something to do, carry these.”
“You should know better than to trust me with things I don’t care about.”
I’m kind of relieved when he doesn’t walk toward the hotel but instead leads the way into a bright, cheerful square ringed with cafes. I make a beeline for the big fountain in the middle, sitting on the edge and putting my hand in the blue water, picking out moldy coins and throwing them back. In spite of what I said, I put Ethan’s bag between my feet where it can’t get splashed.
“Victor.” I can usually ignore my name, but not from his mouth. He’s standing next to a gelato cart, looking at me thoughtfully. “Come here.”
Jesus fuck those two words in that voice do something to me. I pick up the bag and walk over to him, glancing down at the open bins of gelato in the display. “I don’t want one.”
He ignores me, pointing at an almost empty tub of chocolate. “Do you have a fresh one? Can you open it here?”
The guy gives us a weird look, but disappears and returns with a full tub. He throws the old one away and wrestles the new one into place. Ethan watches me as the man cuts a plastic seal off the lid and peels it open, revealing untouched ice cream. “Two of those,per favore.” He pretends not to notice me staring at him as he hands me a paper cup and a spoon.
We sit side by side on the edge of the fountain, close enough for our knees to touch, and Ethan waits for me to take a bite before he digs into his own. “Good, huh?” It’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
When I’m scraping my spoon around and around the bottom of the cup, trying to get the last drops, he clears his throat. “Is it, like, a germ thing? ‘Cause I get that. But maybe you should see someone about it.”
My body tenses up. “Did you buy me this to make me talk to you?”
“No.” Running a hand through his hair, he frowns. “Gray said—” He stops instantly, but it’s too late.
“You’ve all been talking about me again? Did you get Dad’s opinion, too?” This doesn’t feel good. I hate not feeling good.
We didn’t notice the sky getting darker, and Ethan jumps when the first raindrop hits the edge of the fountain. “You already know everything,” I lie, watching tourists run under cover and the food stands drop their shutters. “I cheated. I got caught. I’m not sorry. And I’m not a good person. Every bad thing you’ve ever thought about me is true, and if you keep pushing me I might do something worse.”
If you knew, you’d never look at me again. I wouldn’t even be worth your hate.
When I meet his gaze, he’s studying me like I’m the most important exam of his life. His voice is almost too quiet to hear over the patter of rain on concrete. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
I drop my ice cream cup on the ground and his eyes widen as I grab either side of his head. This is so important. I need him to understand. “Don’t you get it? If I’m not a bad person, then what we have, you and I, it doesn’t exist.” My fingers curl against his skin. I look at his lips, parted, wet with rain, then back to his warm eyes. “Is that what you want?”
For you, this is just a detour, a blip. For me, this is everything. I didn’t know what it meant to feel safe until you hated me.
He doesn’t have an answer. I stand up, untangling his shopping bag from my feet.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
He starts to get up, but I hold out my hand to stop him. “I don’t need you to rescue me again.”
