The Summer of the Selfless - Prologue. Prologue

Six Months Ago

The cosy little bedroom is in semi-darkness, lit only by the soft glow of two table lamps. The window is closed and shuttered, keeping them safe from the uncharacteristic winter cool that has settled over the terracotta rooftops of Ravello, high in the mountains above the rugged Amalfi coast.

Daniele Ferrero, aged thirteen and a half, has seen this room many times, but he has never slept here before. Dressed in his winter pyjamas, he lies back on the pull-out mattress next to his friend Giacomo’s bed, head and shoulders still poking out of his sleeping bag. He casts his eyes around at the walls, which used to be painted sky blue with a faded mural of fluffy clouds. As his friend continues his gradual march to maturity, they have been repainted in a slightly darker blue; the room is cluttered, but friendly, full of cupboards and drawers for all Giacomo’s belongings, with a full-height mirror for those styling moments and a typically untidy teenage desk.

Giacomo’s dark eyes appear over the edge of his mattress, glancing with amusement down into Daniele’s light blue ones. His short black hair, usually so carefully styled, is looking a little ruffled and mussed. In defiance of the winter, Giacomo is wearing the lightest of summer pyjamas, comprising little more than a pair of thin shorts and a vest top. Daniele finds himself preoccupied by his friend’s bare shoulders and olive skin, and stares back at him in an unfocused sort of way.

Giacomo snickers. “You’re not going to sleep already, are you?” he asks.

Guiltily, Daniele shakes his head. Giacomo has long known how he feels about him but, to his credit, he has never allowed it to come between them. Daniele is glad to have the dark-eyed boy’s friendship, but sometimes he can’t help wishing that he had a little more. As to Giacomo… once, in a vulnerable moment, he suggested that he felt something too, but… exactly what, Daniele has never been able to tell.

“And I’m supposed to be good at reading people,” he murmurs.

Giacomo offers him a confused sort of smile. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Daniele replies hastily. “And I wasn’t sleeping. Just… getting comfortable.”

Giacomo pouts slightly. “I don’t want you comfortable, Dani. I want you to suffer, so you have stay awake and chat with me for hours until Mamma finally loses it and shouts at us to shut up.”

Daniele giggles. “I can’t imagine your mamma shouting.”

Giacomo smirks. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Anyway,” Daniele sighs, with an affected yawn. “I am very tired. I think maybe I will go to sleep.”

He closes his eyes, attempting to look as comfortable and sleepy as possible even though, inside, he’s still wide awake. Being this close to his friend, he can’t imagine himself getting off to sleep any time soon.

“Oh, you are so asking for it,” says Giacomo’s voice. Daniele smiles, keeping his eyes determinedly closed.

What happens next, Daniele has no way of expecting.

There’s a slithering sound, and then suddenly a weight bears down on top of him. Daniele’s eyes fly open as he discovers that Giacomo has slid out of bed and has him pinned. The dark-eyed boy has propped himself up on his elbows, but the rest of his weight is lying on top of Daniele, with only the fabric of the sleeping bag separating them. Worried about the effect it will have on his body, Daniele squirms a little, but it only makes the sensation worse. He lies still, hoping for the best.

Giacomo snickers again. “Oops,” he says.

“C’mon, Giaco,” Daniele protests. “What the…?”

Giacomo reaches out with one hand and gently takes hold of a lock of Daniele’s blond hair. He rubs it experimentally between his fingers.

“I’ve always liked your hair,” Giacomo says. “It’s so unusual. It… stands out.”

“Yeah,” Daniele mumbles, his mind running nineteen to the dozen but his body, thankfully, lagging behind a little. “I know I’m different.”

“It’s getting a bit darker, isn’t it?” Giacomo asks, brushing it gently back into place.

Daniele nods. “I guess it is,” he admits. “Although… I’m kinda surprised you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed,” Giacomo smiles. “You’re my best friend.”

Daniele flushes slightly, and he can feel the rest of his body getting ready to respond. He hopes this strange moment will be over soon.

“Let me up, Giaco,” he says, batting ineffectually at the other boy’s shoulder with one hand. Even with his legs pinned in the sleeping bag, he knows he could throw the other boy off if he really tried, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it.

“In a second,” Giacomo replies. “Only, I’ve been wondering…” he tails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

He locks eyes with Daniele for a moment, and Daniele freezes, suddenly certain what’s about to happen but scarcely able to believe it.

The little room suddenly seems too warm, too quiet. Giacomo leans down and presses his lips gently against his own, lighting up Daniele’s senses and fulfilling a dream that has existed in his subconscious since before he was even old enough to be aware of it.

After what is probably only a couple of seconds, but feels like an eternity, Giacomo breaks contact and rolls away onto the soft rug in the middle of his ceramic-tiled floor, where he sits up, looking a little ashamed of himself. If the experience affected him physically in any way, he doesn’t show it. He gives Daniele an embarrassed sort of smile.

Daniele shuffles up into a sitting position, glad of the cover his sleeping bag provides him. He stares at his friend in blank incomprehension.

“I thought you liked girls?” he whispers.

Giacomo looks away for a moment. “I do, but…” he glances back at Daniele. “I’ve never met a girl who means as much to me as you do.”

Daniele gives him a confused frown. “Are you asking to be my boyfriend?”

Giacomo’s eyes widen in shock. “No!” he exclaims quietly. Then he looks flustered, as if regretting his hasty outburst. “Hey, I didn’t mean…” he smacks a hand to his forehead in frustration. “Ah, why am I being such an idiot?”

“So…” Daniele ventures, “you were just giving it a try?”

“I guess so.” Giacomo crawls back over towards Daniele, his expression contrite. “Sorry, Dani.”

“For what?” Daniele asks. “For kissing me, or for not meaning it?”

Giacomo twists his mouth wryly and leaves the question unanswered. He pauses awkwardly, and then makes a query so unexpected that Daniele can’t help but laugh slightly.

“Was I… any good?”

Daniele bites down on his unexpected mirth before it can cause any offence.

“I quite enjoyed it,” he says.

There’s another awkward pause, and then they both fall apart in silent giggles.

“Thanks,” Giacomo mumbles.

“Just…” Daniele says once he’s caught his breath, “don’t do it again. Not unless you really mean it.”

“Got it,” Giacomo replies, more seriously. “I swear.”

“Pinkie promise?” Daniele asks, raising a little finger into the air.

Giacomo stares thoughtfully at his upraised digit for a moment, then licks his own little finger and… shoves it straight into Daniele’s ear.

“Urgh!” Daniele protests, rolling away with a disgusted laugh.

“Giurin giurello,” Giacomo replies, finally grasping Daniele’s little finger, which is still flailing in the air.

Daniele turns back towards him. “Then… you’re forgiven, and I promise never to blackmail you about it. Probably.”

Giacomo grins. “Cool.”

“Now get back into bed already,” Daniele says.

Giacomo shrugs and scrambles back up onto his mattress, playfully pretending he’s about to shove his foot in Daniele’s face.

Daniele rolls back to stare at the ceiling, contemplating the new core memory he’s pretty sure he’s just made.

Something to think back on during the long winter nights…