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CHAPTER
SIX
Sabella
My mom knocks on my door early, telling me I have a visitor. Anticipation sparks in my belly as I jump out of bed. I dress hurriedly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. When my mom sticks her head around the doorframe to ask if I’m ready, she gives me a disapproving look and instructs me to wear something more presentable like the red dress she takes from my closet.
“Who’s here?” I ask, shimmying into the fitted dress that’s overly formal for a Friday morning, too excited to argue about my mom’s choice of outfit for me. If she’s making me dress up, my visitor must be someone important to my parents, someone with business ties to Dad.
Someone like Angelo.
She hands me my red sandals. “Fix your hair and come down quickly.” On her way out, she adds from over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
My stomach flutters as I take care of my grooming and brush my hair. I apply mascara and lip gloss and give myself a once-over in the mirror before charging to the door.
Wait.
I turn on my heel and hurry to my dresser where I take the bracelet Angelo’s family gave me from the drawer and secure it around my wrist.
There. Perfect.
Not two seconds later, I’m rushing down the stairs. I bet Angelo returned to offer an excuse for leaving the party early. He won’t go back to Corsica without saying goodbye. Something happened last night. I can’t put my finger on what transpired between us, but I’ll bet all the money in my bank account he’s aware of it too.
I take the turn to the lounge so fast my sandals slip on the tiles, and then I slow my steps. My spirits sink. Colin sits on the sofa, framed by the view of the sea and the brilliant sky at his back. The sunlight crowns his blond head with a silver lining. He’s dressed in a striped shirt, beige chinos, and loafers without socks. His blue eyes crinkle in the corners when he sees me.
“Oh, it’s you,” I say, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice.
He frowns. Usually, I’m ecstatic to see my best friend, especially when he’s just returned from a holiday abroad. He must be pondering the sudden change.
My mom, who must’ve entered short on my heels, clears her throat behind me.
“I’m very happy to see you,” I continue quickly, which is the truth. I am always keen to hang out with Colin. He’s just not who I was hoping to see today.
He gets to his feet, takes a bouquet of multicolored flowers wrapped in cellophane from the coffee table, and holds it out to me. “Happy birthday, Bella. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for the party. Our flight landed at six this morning.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to be here for every birthday party.” I take the flowers. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
He leans in and kisses my cheek. “You’re welcome.”
“You shouldn’t have rushed over straight away.” I hook my hair behind my ear, feeling overdressed and uncomfortable. “You must be tired.”
This setup is so awkward. We normally swim or play volleyball on the beach, not meet each other in the formal lounge reserved for important guests with my mom sitting in like a chaperone.
“Are you kidding? Of course I had to come.” He winks. “If I didn’t need a shower first, I would’ve woken you up even earlier. Did you get my video message? It’s not the same as saying happy birthday in person, but it’s the next best thing.”
“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry I haven’t replied yet. The party finished late.”
My mom pokes me in the ribs, which is my cue to turn the conversation to him.
Resisting an urge to glare at her, I ask, “How was New York?”
Of course, he’ll tell me all the juicy details later when we’re alone, but since my mom isn’t showing any signs of leaving, I’m just making polite conversation.
“Freezing. My mom got her New Year on Times Square, but she couldn’t last outside for more than ten minutes before we had to head back to the hotel.”
“How are they—your parents?” Mom asks. “And your sister? Clara must’ve had fun.”
“Dad enjoyed it less than Mom, seeing that she mostly did shopping and towed him along. Clara caught a cold on the second day. Needless to say, she was miserable.”
“Poor dear,” Mom says. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs. “It happens.” Reverting his attention to me, he continues, “More importantly, how was the big event?”
As my mom can’t see my face, I roll my eyes while saying with enthusiasm, “Great.”
A grin stretches his cherub cheeks. Colin is handsome in a blond-and-tanned surfer kind of way, but he hasn’t outgrown the baby fat on his face.
“There’s cake left over,” my mom says. “Would you like a slice? It’s from a renowned French baker.”
