Lost in the Depth

Good Times

"Rayna get up," Antonio's voice wakes me. We're inside now, in my bed. I was dreaming. Go ahead and take a wild guess who it was about.

"It's 8:30," he says and I haul ass to the bathroom. I take a quick shower and once I'm back he's already put the bags in the taxi. Once I'm out of the bathroom I ask him the important question I've been dreading.

"So you're coming then?" Say yes. Say yes.

"Why, you'd rather I don't?" Idiot.

"No I want you to," I reply. 

"Well good because I already got one of the guards to pack my things. They're in the cab with yours and Alessia's on the way to the jet now."

I walk up to him. I know it's wrong but I need some sort of comfort right now. I grab his face and pull him into a kiss. It's not gentle or rushed, it's just a kiss. Of course, it escalates quickly, since this is me and Antonio we're talking about.

All I'm wearing is the towel wrapped around my body and Antonio snakes his hand under the towel to wrap around my bare waist. I pull my hands up to his neck, running through his hair.

Just as he pushes me against the wall, my phone rings. I'm kind of thankful for it because even though his lips on mine feel amazing, I just feel guilty when I kiss him. Like I'm doing something I shouldn't. I don't know why. I mean I loved Will. But we never had any sort of romantic relationship.

I pick up the phone and see by the caller ID that it's Alessia. "Where are you? The jet's leaving in 30 minutes," she yells over the wind. She's probably already there.

"I'm on my way," I say and hang up. I haven't really been making conversation with anyone. I don't want to be like this. But I just am. My days have been going by in a haze and I know I barely speak throughout them. 

--- 

As I board the small plane, I realise just how long the flight is. 8 hours. I would usually be annoyed but right now I'm happy. Time to sleep and think and not talk. Or time to be bored out of my mind.

Either way, I don't really care. It's a quiet flight. Usually when Alessia and I travel together, we get drunk on the plane and practically hold a mini party. I'm always shocked the pilot didn't crash by the end of the flight. 

This time, we get drunk, like every other time. But there's not party, no music, no laughing. We're just drunk and depressed. Even Antonio drinks a little, but he isn't really grieving since Will wasn't his friend or anything. Though I think part of him is a little irritated that Will could've told him more about Amber.

By the time we're coming out of the plane, I'm stumbling down the stairs and the world is spinning. I think Alessia and I emptied out the drinks cabinet. I'm about to fall over the railing when what I assume are Antonio's hands grab my waist, steadying me before I actually tip over the rails of the stairs.

Italy. I would say it's my home, but it's not. It used to be. I moved to America when I was just starting middle school and I missed Sicily everyday. Everything I saw, I would compare with my hometown. But then I met Will and Amber. Amber was there for me but she was older so eventually she had to go into high school when I was still in middle school.

That's when I became closer with Will. Alessia was there of course. But it was more fun with Will, sometimes. That's when New York became my home.

Don't get me wrong, I love Italy. It's my culture, my birthplace. But, once you live in New York, eventually it just becomes a part of you. That's why my visits back to Italy never last more than a week. 

Now I'm going to be here forever. It's not like I can't go back. I just don't know why I don't want to. But then I do. It's all one big headache to think about.

I know Antonio will have to go back after a while, judging from his single suitcase. Part of me deflates when I see it and I know he won't be staying, though I wasn't expecting him to anyway.

I got hotel rooms for the members that came back from America with me. They're already in the hotel when we arrive, due to their earlier flight. The other members that stayed in Italy the entire time we were in America have their own homes but most of those that came with us sold theirs.

I have my own house a few miles from the hotel but I don't feel like going back. I'm going to sell it later but right now I just want to go to my hotel room and sleep. Even though I basically slept on the whole flight, when I wasn't drinking that is.

I half want Antonio to come into my room with me. I just want to cuddle. I decide against it though, and I go to Alessia's room instead.

She's lying on her stomach on the king sized bed in the middle of the room. When I said I got hotel rooms, I meant normal rooms for the others and full out suites for me Alessia and Antonio. It still cost a damn lot though, since this is one of those rich people hotels. Didn't even make a dent in my bank account. Benefits of being in the mafia really just hit different.

I realise Alessia's holding her phone and looking at something. Some sort of video judging by the moving pictures and sounds. As I step closer to the bed, I realise it's a video of us. Me, Alessia, Will and our group of friends in high school.

We're at some pool party. I think Alessia's videoing because of the sloppy shaking of the camera. I remember that party. Will and one of his football buddies got me so drunk I didn't even realise when they took me to the roof of the house. I realised when they pushed my wasted ass into the pool from the roof though.

I smile as the memory resurfaces and I notice that's the exact scene being depicted in the video. I kneel at the foot of the bed, next to Alessia and put my head on my hands on the edge of the bed as we watch.

The video zooms in on the boys. He looks so happy. So carefree. We all were back then. Good times.

Me and Alessia spend the next few hours going through videos and photos and talking about the memories. We laugh at some, cry at some and even do both at the same time.