The Summer of the Selfless - 3. Chapter 3

Daniele and his friends came through their final exams tired, but largely unscathed. They were so busy doing battle with written and oral tests that the time fairly flew by. Before they knew it, it was Friday again, and the school holidays were almost upon them.

With no more tests to sit and no more lessons to learn, the outgoing students were allowed to spend their final hour of school out on the picnic terrace, supervised with only half-hearted attention by their class tutor of three years, signora Lattuca. There was a party atmosphere among the assembled teenagers, with excitement for the disco reaching fever pitch in some quarters, although less so among Daniele and his friends.

Emilia had been roped into chatting with a group of the other girls from the class. Daniele watched from a distance, wondering at the strange mood of the occasion. It seemed that the sense of something ending had somehow amplified everything: the way the other girls were going on about how much they would miss her, you would think they had always been the best of friends when, in actual fact, their acquaintance had been casual at best. Emilia looked equally baffled by the whole affair.

As the designated boyfriend, Luca had also been forced to sit down with them and endure the chatter. He kept stealing little glances at his pocket, and Daniele could tell that he was desperate to reach for the phone he kept there to help pass the time; but so far, it seemed, he had gallantly resisted the temptation.

Daniele, Giacomo and Marco were lounging in the shade of the single pine tree on a bed of dry grass and last year’s fragrant pine needles.

“Is anyone actually going to miss this place?” Giacomo asked, staring up at the modern, white-painted façade of the school building above them.

“I dunno,” Marco said. “We’ve all been through so much, you know? But this place was always here, always the same… and it got me away from home every day.” He shrugged. “I guess I found it sort of comforting.”

“What about you, Dani?” Giacomo asked.

Daniele thought for a moment. “I came here lonely and scared, but I’m leaving with four great friends.” He paused. “I’m not saying I’ll miss it, but I guess… it’s been all right.”

Giacomo shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Speak for yourselves! I can’t wait to get out of here. But…” his dark eyes found Daniele for a moment, “if it helped me… us… to meet you, I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

Daniele smiled. “So, I’m… what, your silver lining?”

“More like golden boy,” Marco murmured, casting his grey eyes casually to the heavens for a moment.

Giacomo snickered. “Make that platinum baby,” he said, reaching for a lock of Daniele’s hair.

Daniele batted his hand away. “Hands off the merchandise. Anyway, my hair’s darker now. You said so yourself.”

Baby?!

“All right,” Giacomo smirked. Composing his face into a more solemn expression, he extended a fist towards Daniele and Marco. “I just want to mark this moment. Make a triangle with me.”

Obediently, Daniele and Marco turned to face him, and they each extended a fist until the three of them met in the middle.

“All together, now,” Giacomo went on, glancing up at the school building once more. “Arrivederci, scuola media!”

Nonplussed, Daniele chanted along as best he could; coming from Giacomo, it all seemed so uncharacteristically corny. He was about say so when, quick as a flash, the dark-eyed boy grinned, seized Daniele’s wrist and pulled it hard. Caught unprepared, Daniele went sprawling into his lap with a yelp.

“Jesus!” Marco exclaimed, his fist still held out uselessly in front of him. Rallying quickly, Daniele grabbed it, too, and soon all three of them were sprawled in an unruly, giggling heap under the pine tree.

Several of their classmates gave them startled or condescending looks as they disentangled themselves.

“Are you challenged, Giaco?” Marco asked as he brushed himself down.

“Nah, I’m just high on life!” Giacomo cried, spreading his arms towards the sky.

At last, the school bell rang, a long-awaited clarion call to freedom. Excitedly, the assembled teens got to their feet, eager to embark on the holidays. The teacher moved to the exit, so she could offer a few parting words to each of her students as they left.

Marco led the way. The teacher held him back for a moment, placing a fond hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said. “With everything you’ve had to deal with, you’re proof of what hard work and resilience can achieve.”

“Thanks, signora,” Marco mumbled, visibly embarrassed by her praise.

Giacomo went next. The teacher folded her arms, giving him a look of wry amusement.

“Keep slaying them, Giacomo,” she said.

The dark-eyed boy grinned. “Will do.”

Daniele paused slightly awkwardly in front of the teacher, waiting to see what she had to say to him. With a faint sigh, she extended a hand once more, lifting his chin up gently so she could look into his eyes.

“I’ll miss you, Daniele. If only the other teens I taught were half as gentle. I hope you never lose that.”

Daniele gave her an embarrassed smile. “I’ll try my best.”

He cast one last glance back up at the school and at the high canopy of the umbrella pine, spread out against the bright blue sky. Somewhere, up among its dark green needles, a single cicada was scraping, and he obeyed its call. With a goodbye wave, he made his way down the steps to the street and stepped forward into the next phase of his life.

* * *

Saturday, the day of the disco, passed painfully slowly. Daniele wandered fretfully about the house, willing the hours away. Next to this, he felt, the final exams had been a cinch. Surely, the greatest barrier to the school holidays still stood before him.

What’s the big deal?

Pacing about his room, he ran a restless hand through his hair and tried to figure out why he felt so anxious.

Was it the thought of having to dance in public? Surely not… he had danced at parties before. Okay, maybe that had been among friends; but, if he couldn’t face doing it in front of the whole class, nobody would force him to.

Was it the shame of sitting on the sidelines and refusing to dance in public? Hardly. He had spent enough time as an outsider in his life to be used to that.

Was it the thought of arriving without a date? Not likely… he certainly wouldn’t be the only one.

So, was it the thought of spending all that time with Giacomo… and not being able to dance with him? Come on. He had plenty of experience of that.

Daniele threw himself backwards onto his bed, sprawling out on the double blanket like a star, and closed his eyes. Whatever it was he was afraid of, it defied explanation. He just knew he’d be glad when the whole thing was over, and any opportunities for humiliation or heartbreak had passed. That was when the summer could really begin.

Deciding to stay where he was for a while, he relaxed his body and allowed his mind to drift a little.

What would Giacomo be wearing, he wondered? A tux, like Marco? Jeans and a shirt? One of his trendy athletic jackets?

Daniele’s old red tie-dye t-shirt?

…nothing at all?

Daniele giggled at the thought, a faint heat rising to his cheeks. Okay, maybe he’d allow the other boy a pair of swimming trunks, for modesty’s sake.

No, Giacomo would be looking smart and stylish, as he almost always did.

He imagined his friend dressed up like a bridegroom, complete with a bowtie and a red carnation on his lapel, approaching him in the romantic gloom of a dance floor at the start of a slow song, his dark eyes uncharacteristically shy.

“Dani… do you want to dance with me?”

Daniele shook his head. No, that wasn’t how it would be.

Giacomo would sneak up behind him, making Daniele jump by laying both hands unexpectedly on his shoulders.

“C’mon, Dani…” he would whisper. “Let’s dance.”

“In front of everyone?” Daniele would ask.

“Yeah,” Giacomo would reply, offering him a glimpse of his secret smile. “It’ll be worth it just to see how they all take it.”

And Daniele would go along with it, partly for fun, and partly because he really wanted to…

…and then, who knew? Maybe, after a while, they would leave the dance floor again, and Giacomo would admit that he hadn’t done it just for a laugh. Maybe their one kiss all those months ago had made as much of an impression on Giacomo as it had on Daniele, and the dark-eyed boy just hadn’t known how to say it until now.

With a sigh, Daniele let the pleasant fantasy dissipate.

So what, he thought, if their friendship had felt a bit more intense for the last few weeks? It was probably just his own fevered imagination. His friend was a tactile sort of person, and he was overreacting to the slightest touch. No, there would be no confessions of undying love at the disco; just a couple of hours of enforced awkwardness, and then they would all be free to go.

* * *

The disco was being held in a private function room at the hotel where Daniele’s mother worked. She had arranged to have the evening off, so that there could be no risk of ‘running into Mamma’ halfway through the event, with all the embarrassment that would entail. The disco was due to run between half past seven and half past nine, so it would be dark by the time it finished.

At half past six, Daniele took a long shower and put on his new clothes. After some deliberation at the clothes shop in Salerno, he had gone with Marco’s suggestion and had bought the smart white shirt and a pair of good quality black trousers; but, wanting to add a flourish of his own, he had added a silk tie in a lavender colour. After a few failed, fumbling attempts, he achieved a tie knot he was happy with.

He tucked the shirt neatly into the waistband of his trousers, then finished the look off with a leather belt and a pair of smart black shoes. Pausing to examine his reflection in the mirror on the inside of his wardrobe door, he twisted left and right, appraising his look. He supposed it would do.

Daniele wandered through to the kitchen to submit himself for inspection. The light, airy room was full of the scent of sweet treats baking, and his mother was just finishing off the washing up.

Patrizia put a hand to her mouth in surprise when she saw him, then dried herself off with a tea towel and took out her phone to grab a quick snapshot of her reluctant subject.

“Oh, you look gorgeous,” she said.

Daniele fidgeted slightly in embarrassment. “Ah, c’mon…”

Patrizia shook her head. “I mean it… you look so grown up.” She sighed sadly. “You’ll make some lucky boy very happy one day.”

Daniele cringed in horror. “Mamma, please…!”

His mother chuckled. “I’m sorry, caro.”

“I’m ready, I think,” Daniele said. “Can I get going?”

Patrizia nodded. “Of course. Would you like a snack first?”

She offered him a tray of freshly baked chocolate orange crowns. Daniele took one to the dining table and ate it carefully, making sure not to get crumbs all down his smart clothing, then chased it down with a small glass of water. When he had finished, he washed his hands and went to say goodbye to his mother.

Patrizia gave him a quick hug. “Have a lovely time, tesoro,” she said. “You’ll be okay walking home on your own?”

Daniele nodded. “Sure.”

She smiled. “Then we’ll see you later.”

Daniele turned to leave. As he did so, his phone pinged in his pocket.

Giacomo had sent him a grinning selfie in which he was wearing just a tatty old vest top. His black hair was mussed and chaotic – fresh, Daniele suspected, from the shower.

‘Just trying on my outfit for the disco. What do u think?’

Daniele snickered.

‘Amazing,’ he replied.

His phone pinged again with another selfie. This time, Giacomo was wearing a trim black shirt, which he had left open to the second button, revealing a small triangle of olive skin at the top of his chest. His hair was restored to its full glory, and his eyes seemed darker than ever in the gloom of his bedroom.

‘Just kidding. Ready for u now. See u soon. x’

Is that a kiss…?

Daniele swallowed hard and sent back what he hoped was a suitable response.

‘Preferred the first one! See u in a bit.’

A single tongue emoji pinged back into Daniele’s chat. He smiled, pocketed the phone and set off back into town.

The low, golden evening sun had dipped behind the hills, casting Daniele’s side of town into shadow, but there was still a heady warmth to the air. He took the climb gently, keeping his heart rate low; it wouldn’t do to overheat in his shirt and tie before the party had even started. His smart black shoes clopped against the crazy paving of the ancient steps, echoing off the buildings and high stone walls to either side.

The cathedral square was lively with the early evening trade. Daniele threaded his way through the groups of visitors and took to the shady confines of Via Roma, where a few people still drifted in and out of the gift shops, which stayed open late on summer weekends. The brightly lit shops shone with beautifully packaged pasta, colourful ceramics, tourist-friendly clothes and accessories, hand-decorated bottles of the local limoncello liqueur and innumerable bottles of local wine, which glinted green, red and gold in their wall racks.

He passed his former school and stepped out onto a winding path at the foot of a small cliff, overlooking the view across the valley to Scala. Disturbing the few lizards that were still basking amidst the lingering warmth of the low stone boundary wall, he descended to a quiet road. The sun had finally disappeared behind the mountain peaks, casting Ravello into its customary long, early dusk.

Soon, he had arrived at a small square with an ancient fountain at its centre. For a moment, he stood facing the grand arched façade of the hotel, whose bright lights cast a welcoming glow out into the darkening street.

He supposed he could still turn and walk away…

…but, instead, he put his best foot forward and stepped inside.

* * *

To call it a ‘function room’ hardly did justice to the cavernous, vaulted space that Daniele found himself in; it looked like it might have been chapel, once upon a time. At one end of the room, a tinted glass window set into an ancient stone archway let in the only natural light. Next to the window, which faced out onto the fountain square, a soft drink bar had been set up for the occasion, manned by a couple of Daniele’s old teachers who were half-heartedly supervising the proceedings.

At the far end there was a stage of sorts, where a DJ was already pumping loud dance-pop out into the room. Coloured lights hung from bars on the ceiling, some of them casting moving patterns, and the air was faintly misted with dry ice. For the non-dancers, or perhaps to provide a place for the dancers to rest, a few clusters of chairs had been set up around the edges of the room.

Quite a few of Daniele’s classmates had already arrived and were milling around in the gloom or swaying in the middle of the room, a little self-consciously for the moment as the atmosphere had yet to really take off. He was just beginning to cast his eyes around the sidelines, looking for his friends, when two pairs of hands seized him and dragged him into the middle of the dance floor.

“Isn’t this cool?” Emilia grinned, pulling Daniele into a side-to-side sway as the music segued into a piano-led dance track that he vaguely recognised. Although she was usually more at home in jeans, she had donned a neat blue dress for the occasion and pinned her hair up in a pretty sort of way. There was a white flower tucked into one of her hairclips. “I thought it’d be so awkward, but now I’m here…”

Luca took her hands from Daniele’s and gave her a little twirl, making her giggle.

“I thought this was my dance, ‘milia?” he said, flashing Daniele a friendly smile. “It’s not cool to dance with your ex in front of me.”

Daniele laughed as she gave her boyfriend a pert punch on the arm. “He’s not my ex!” she exclaimed. “Just my cute mistake.”

Luca had opted for smart casual clothes, including black jeans and a dark green shirt that set off his eyes.

“Loving the tie, Dani,” he said.

Emilia ran the strip of lavender silk through her fingers and shook her head.

“I think you’d look better without it,” she said, “but it is your colour.” She put one hand on Daniele’s arm and one hand on Luca’s. “We can have a three-way dance, can’t we?”

A little reluctantly at first, Daniele formed a triangle with them and went with the flow. The DJ, who seemed to be particularly fascinated with British music, hopped decades, mixing in tracks from as far back as the eighties or nineties.

After a while, Daniele even began to enjoy himself a little, and they tried out a few synchronised moves, ducking to the side or turning in unison, even as the song exhorted them to do so.

‘I’m… spinning around…’

On one such turn, Daniele came face-to face with a new arrival, and he dropped out of the group dance at once.

“Ciao, Dani,” Giacomo smiled.

Daniele couldn’t help staring slightly. Giacomo’s black shirt and slim-fit jeans hugged his figure perfectly, and his open collar seemed to draw his eyes in with inexorable power.

“Ah… ciao, Giaco,” he replied.

“Want to get a drink?” Giacomo asked, then he waved at the others. “Ciao, guys.”

“Ciao,” Emilia and Luca replied carelessly, still lost to the rhythm.

Daniele and Giacomo headed towards the drinks bar, skirting the other dancing teenagers. The dark-eyed boy gave him a sidelong glance.

“You look great, Dani,” he said, “but what’s with the tie?”

Without another word, Daniele pulled down the tie, folded it up and shoved it decisively into his trouser pocket.

“There,” he said, unfastening his top button.

Giacomo grinned. “Much better.”

At the drinks bar, they ran into Marco. His mousy brown hair was freshly washed and brushed and, as promised, he had turned up in an approximation of a tuxedo: a black, slim-fit three-piece suit complete with a matching bowtie. Considering how naturally slight he was, Daniele thought he wore it well.

A half-drunk cup of Sprite already in hand, Marco turned to face them with a nervous smile.

“Ciao, guys,” he said.

Daniele grinned. “Very cool,” he said.

“Yeah,” Giacomo concurred with a smile, hovering close to Daniele’s shoulder. “You’re killing it, Marco.”

“Thanks.” Marco’s cool grey eyes flicked uncertainly between them, as if he was unsure how to proceed.

“Marco!” a call floated from across the dance floor. Emilia and Luca were beckoning enthusiastically for him to join them.

Marco exhaled gratefully. “I’m going to see how the others are doing,” he said. Draining his cup and setting it down on the bar, he moved on.

Daniele and Giacomo each took a cup of Lemon Soda, and they walked over to one of the clusters of chairs, which had padded arms and backs and turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Giacomo sank gratefully into his, taking a sip of his drink.

“That’s better,” he sighed.

“Don’t you want to join in?” Daniele asked, inclining his head towards the dance floor. The DJ was playing a trance number from the noughties, something about flying high in the sky. Daniele sort of wished he could step outside and do just that.

Giacomo shrugged. “Maybe later,” he said, then he laughed, gesturing out into the middle of the room. “Wow, Marco’s really going for it.”

Marco had taken Daniele’s place in the three-way dance with Emilia and Luca. Despite his earlier comments about sitting on the sidelines, he seemed to be getting surprisingly into it. As Daniele and Giacomo watched, the three of them did another of their synchronised spins, observed with interest by some of the other teenagers present.

Daniele smiled. “I didn’t think he would. At least he’ll have some fun memories from this.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Giacomo asked. Daniele glanced at the dark-eyed boy curiously; it didn’t seem like a jealous question, more the observation of someone who was genuinely impressed.

Daniele nodded. “He’s been through such a lot.”

Giacomo sighed again. “That’s what I love about you, Dani. You’re always thinking of everyone else.” He gave him a playful smile. “Although… there are things I know you want, too…”

Daniele flushed slightly and knocked back some more of his drink.

“Don’t we all?” he mumbled.

Giacomo nodded. “That’s true.”

The trance track had given way to something thudding and electronic from the eighties, prompting some exaggerated moves on the dance floor. A few voices chanted along.

‘Paninaro, o-o-o…’

“Bust a move to this, Dani,” Giacomo joked, swaying from side to side in his seat.

Daniele rose from his chair. Running a hand briskly through his mop of blond hair, he performed a few karate-style moves and spun precisely on the spot, then returned to his seat with a sheepish grin.

The dark-eyed boy laughed. “That was epic. You’re a natural.”

“What about you?” Daniele said, gesturing towards the dance floor.

Giacomo looked a little awkward. “Ah, I dunno… seems kinda embarrassing.”

“But you’re good at everything physical,” Daniele protested.

Giacomo smirked a little. “Not everything, Dani. I mean… there are some things I haven’t even tried yet. Have you…?”

He gave Daniele a little smile that left no doubt as to what he was talking about. Daniele flushed at once, hoping it didn’t show too obviously in the low lighting. Giacomo snickered and knocked back the rest of his drink.

The playlist had moved on again, to something slicker and more modern.

‘Although no one understood, we were holding back the flood, learning how to dance the rain,’ some of the crowd were singing. ‘We were holding back the flood, they said we’d never dance again.’

Daniele rose to his feet again and gave his friend’s arm a tug.

“Come on, Giaco,” he smiled. “What does it matter if we look a bit stupid?”

After all, it was just a pop song. Nobody was asking them to dance a waltz, were they?

Giacomo sighed. “All right,” he conceded. “If you insist.”

He sprang out of his chair, and they ran out onto the dance floor with a giggle, swaying and spinning to the beat. As Daniele led, Giacomo attempted to follow, and they even pulled off a successful shoulder-bump, inhibitions temporarily forgotten.

As the music segued into a dreamy dance number woven with drifting electric guitars, they performed another spin and found themselves face-to-face with Emilia, Luca and Marco, who had come to join them. They were flushed with their exertions, and Emilia’s brown eyes were alight with excitement.

“Join us, guys,” she exhorted them.

They danced and they swayed together as the DJ hopped through the decades, never letting the dancers rest even for a minute.

‘Be the love generation…’

* * *

Sometime later, Daniele and Giacomo stepped off the dance floor again to take a break and drink a cup of cool water.

Giacomo sagged against the wall and grinned ruefully while, on the dance floor, the assembled masses sang along to The Final Countdown. By now, it was nearly nine o’clock, and they had been dancing for over an hour.

“I’m shattered,” the dark-eyed boy panted.

Daniele laughed. “Me too.”

Giacomo’s hair still looked spotless, though, and there was no sheen of sweat on his clear brow. Daniele wondered how he managed it.

“But you were right,” Giacomo went on. “I had a really great time. Who else was watching, anyway? They were all too busy dancing and singing along.”

Daniele shrugged. “I’d never have done it without you and the others.”

Giacomo set his cup aside. “We’re best friends, aren’t we?” he asked, suddenly more serious. “You and me?”

Daniele hesitated, thrown by his sudden change of mood. “Y – yeah. Of course.”

Giacomo sprang forward and pulled him into a hug, immediately sending Daniele’s heart into overdrive.

“Thanks, Dani,” he whispered.

They released each other just as a new track kicked in on a rising techno beat, eliciting a few cheers from the crowd. The distraction gave Daniele a precious couple of seconds to recover his wits.

‘Oh heaven, oh heaven, I wake with good intentions…’

Giacomo offered Daniele another rueful smile. “What do you think? One more song?”

Daniele offered him a weary giggle. “Okay…”

They ran back onto the dance floor, where they found Marco, who had been temporarily cut loose by Emilia and Luca and was looking a little lost; Daniele thought he could just make out their figures over by the drink bar. The mousy-haired boy smiled in relief as they approached.

“Thank God,” he panted. “I thought was going to have to dance on my own.”

Daniele grinned. “No need.”

“Like Dani said,” Giacomo smiled. “We’ve got you.”

‘Will you recognise me, when I lose another friend?’

They danced out the song, even joining in the chorus, only pausing for breath when it had finished, but then their ears pricked up at the unexpected refrain of a romantic guitar. They paused, thrown by the sudden change in pace.

“Oh, a slow one…?” Marco said, glancing uncertainly around the room. “I’m not sure about that.”

‘Sooner or later, this happens to everyone… to everyone…’

Some of the other teenagers seemed to be thinking the better of it, too, as Daniele could see a few figures retreating to the safety of the chairs at the side of the room.

‘You can live your life lonely, heavy as stone… live your life learning, and working alone… say this is all you want, but I don't believe that it's true… 'cause when you least expect it, waiting round the corner for you…’

Daniele thought he recognised the song. It sounded like a newer, downbeat remix of an oldie he had sometimes heard Gianni playing at the house he shared with Angelo and Marco.

‘Love comes quickly, whatever you do… you can't stop falling…’

Marco looked ready to retreat. Daniele turned to his other friend, expecting to see the same thing, but then he froze.

Giacomo was standing in silence, with a hand extended towards him, inviting him to take it. There was no sign of insincerity in his dark eyes.

He’s… really asking me to dance?

“I…” Daniele fumbled.

Next to him, Marco had noticed, too, and now stood with his mouth slightly open in shock, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen next.

Daniele’s mind was in freefall. Here, right in front of him, was everything he had yearned for. And yet… why did he feel like he was about to cry?

He backed away slightly, shaking his head.

“I… I can’t,” he faltered. “I’m sorry.”

Giacomo dropped his hand and seemed to slump a little, breaking eye contact.

“Sure,” he replied, with a brave attempt at a casual laugh. “No worries.”

Daniele’s head seemed to swim for a moment. The noisy room was suddenly too hot, too stuffy. He needed some air.

“I’ve… got to go,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

Giacomo nodded, still not looking at him. Daniele turned and fled, making for the exit as quickly as he could without breaking into an actual run. It seemed to take an eternity… but, at that moment, nothing on Earth could have persuaded him to look over his shoulder.

* * *

Daniele stumbled out through the hotel lobby and into the soothingly quiet darkness of the fountain square, taking great lungfuls of night air. Under the starry sky, the air temperature had dropped a little, but it was still balmy. All the same, it beat being in the noisy, smoky room he had just left.

What… just…?

He ran his hands roughly through his hair, taking his distress and confusion out on himself for a while. He needed to find somewhere he could be alone with his thoughts.

Running on instinct alone, Daniele turned towards a flight of steps that led down towards the steep mountainside below town. Attempting to shove his hands into his pockets, he came up against an alien object and fished out his lavender tie, still neatly folded from earlier. With a small cry of distress, he cast it down to the paving stones and quickened his pace.

“Dani… wait!”

Daniele glanced over his shoulder. Marco had followed him out into the square, his cool grey eyes wide and anxious. The mousy-haired boy bent down to pick up Daniele’s discarded tie, shoved it in his jacket pocket and then set off after him.

Daniele didn’t feel like waiting. He set off down the steps at a rapid clip, making his way past the side of the hotel until he reached the Naples road. Spying an opportunity, he nipped across the road in front of an oncoming Vespa scooter, and Marco was forced to stop and wait. Doing everything he could to extend his lead, Daniele set off down the next flight of steps, descending very steeply until he touched down on a gentler path among the scattered houses and terraces on the hillside below the road. Amidst the intermittent glow of the sparse street lighting, he hurried along the narrow concrete lane, passing closed front doors and lit windows until he was surrounded by nothing but stone walls, olive trees and lemon orchards. Free of civilisation, he finally felt like he could breathe.

Daniele stopped at a corner where the steps turned more steeply downhill, receding zig-zag style into the gloom. Picking up a wizened old lemon that was lying in the dust, he hurled it down into the darkness with a furious cry of anger and frustration. There was a sudden rustle as a feral cat, disturbed in its nighttime wanderings among the lemon trees, shot off into the darkness.

Daniele heard the last few distant bounces as the lemon found a new resting place, and then there was silence apart from the chirp of the nocturnal crickets and his own heavy breathing.

There were quiet footsteps as Marco caught up with him, his grey eyes still wide and concerned in the gloom.

“Dani…?” he ventured. “Are you okay?”

“I blew it!” Daniele cried.

Marco raised a tentative hand to comfort him, but Daniele shook it off. He wasn’t ready to be forgiven. Not yet.

“I don’t understand,” Marco murmured. “Why did you turn Giaco down?”

“I don’t even know!” Daniele replied desperately.

But that wasn’t true, was it? Not really.

“You’ve wanted this for…” Marco began.

“…like, forever.” Daniele gave the other boy a tearful glance.

Marco’s brow knotted anxiously; it was plain that he was trying hard to make sense of everything. “So… why say no? Don’t you trust him, or something?”

Daniele spread his arms helplessly. “All the things we’ve done together,” he said desperately. “Like helping each other to climb mountains, or the way we looked out for each other during the business with Ettore last year… I trust Giaco with my life. Just not…”

He tailed off miserably, drawing another ragged breath.

“…with your heart?” Marco suggested quietly.

Daniele sagged down onto the top step and propped his head in his hands, his splayed fingers lifting his hair up into untidy tufts. Marco sat down next to him, squeezing into the small space remaining between Daniele and the boundary wall.

“Giaco probably hates me now,” Daniele mumbled.

Marco shook his head. “Giaco doesn’t hate,” he replied. “And… he could especially never hate you.”

Daniele gave him a sideways glance, clinging to the tiny sliver of hope the other boy had offered. “You’re sure?”

Marco nodded. “I’ve known him all my life.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Thanks,” Daniele replied. He gave the other boy a questioning look. “I mean, am I wrong? Should I have taken him seriously?”

Looking slightly uncomfortable, Marco shrugged. Apparently, he either didn’t know how to respond, or he didn’t want to.

Daniele sighed. “The other day,” he said, “Giaco asked me if I ever missed being younger. I think I get it now. And… yeah. I think it was easier, when all I had was a little bit of a crush and that was that. Don’t you?”

Marco stared at him evenly with his cool grey eyes. “When I was younger, all I had was secrets, an empty house, and two friends who didn’t really get me at all. You, Gianni and Angelo… you changed all that.”

“Right,” Daniele mumbled, rubbing at each eye in turn. “Being selfish. Sorry.”

“No!” Marco replied emphatically. “That’s not what I meant. You’re the least selfish person I know! It’s just…” he looked away, as if it were suddenly too difficult to face him. “You deserve someone who cares about other people as much as you do. And, if you’re not sure that’s what you’re getting… it’s better to say no.”

“But, I lo…” Daniele began, but he couldn’t complete the sentence. He burst into tears, burying his face in his arms.

Marco sighed quietly and placed an arm around his shoulders, and this time Daniele didn’t shake him off. He leant on the smaller boy, crying his feelings out in the darkness.