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There’s no angel on my shoulder, only a devil that whispers, “Faster, faster … fucking FLY!”
I’m reaching the peak.
There’s no more road ahead of me, only the dazzling view of the harbor and the ancient crescent of Old Town far below.
My all-time favorite movie scene is when Thelma and Louise drive their ‘66 Thunderbird off the rim of the Grand Canyon. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than that baby blue car soaring into space.
I’ll never die an old woman in bed. My last memory will be something so beautiful it will echo through eternity.
Someday … not today.
I turn the bike into a shaded courtyard, at the end of which stands the entryway to the restaurant, the double doors topped by an old-fashioned awning on which the ornate scroll ofCocois painted in gold script.
I stop short in front of the valet.
“I’ll park it myself,” I tell him, hoping he won’t notice the gaping hole that ought to be an ignition switch.
As I pull the bike into its berth, I hesitate.
I look at the twisted wires, the ends spliced together.
Taking my knife from my pocket, I cut them off short.
Then, dusty and sweating, I march up to host, already planning how I’ll get a table.
* * *
2
ADRIK PETROV
Icame all the way to Croatia for Sabrina Gallo.
This might seem like madness, having met her only once before. I guess you could say she made an impression on me.
She haunted me like a piece of music that wouldn’t stop playing in my head. Even when I thought I was thinking of something else, I could hear that husky laugh of hers, wild and mocking, echoing through my brain.
I’m used to being the most outrageous person in the room—the one who will go the furthest and do the most.
I was the electricity.
Until Sabrina crashed down in front of me, like a hundred million volts of lightning right at my feet.
She forced her way into my rescue mission, stubborn and unapologetic. I didn’t want the Gallos with us; it was supposed to be a family affair. I soon saw she was more than capable—downright ingenious. At the end of one single night in her company, I knew I’d never seen anything like her and might never again.
So I demanded that she meet me on the dock on the last day of school.
I wanted a day alone with her—to take her apart like a pocket-watch and see what makes her tick.
I’m good at reading people. Really fucking good.
Once you understand how people think, you know what they’ll do.
I did not predict that within five minutes of meeting her, a schoolgirl who barely comes up to my chin would roar away from me on a stolen bike.
Even less did I guess that Sabrina would beat me to the restaurant, securing her own table right by the window without even accessing my reservation.
“How did you get in here?” I demand, dropping down on the empty seat next to hers.
