Lost & Found

chapter one

Everything seems so distant until it's not. Humans master the art of suffering in advance. We are too busy worrying about how much time we have left until certain thing has to happen that when we actually reach that moment it's like we can't do anything about it. Regret is what comes next. Regret that we didn't make use of all those months to prepare ourselves and, instead, were so immersed in worrying.

This is me realizing the meaning of my own words forty-eight hours before my transatlantic flight to New Jersey. My suitcase is not even packed yet and my sleep schedule is absolutely ruined so all I feel like doing right now is sleep. I'm not ready to leave my bed, my room, my home, my family, my friends (that I barely got the chance to say goodbye to - them and their imposing passion of traveling every time I'm in town and kind of need them with me), and my dog. His fair lustrous fur trimmed close to his skin and tongue always hanging outside of his mouth, making it seem like he glows every second of the day. Kiwi Bianco, you're my best friend and I will miss you.

"Kiwi!" I call. He comes running the second I pronounce his name and jumps to my lap. He's a Labrador, not really a dinky dog to say the least.

I hear stomps. Of course it's my much displeased mother: my dog in my room is one of her biggest pet peeves. Don't ask me why, how does it make any difference to HER?

"Sofia Bianchi what have I told you so many times?" she screams on her way to my room. "I don't want Kiwi where you sleep! It's not hygienic. I sw-"

She opens my door. We exchange glances and I force a smile, knowing what's about to come.

"You haven't started packing your things?! Which planet do you live in? Dio mio Sofia, you are leaving in two days! Have you realized that? I won't help you. I'll tell your brother not to help you either."

"Okay. I was going to do it myself anyways," I know it infuriates her. She mutters some unrecognizable sounds and walks away. Bothering me is a daily hobby for her.

I pat Kiwi and push him away so I can start selecting clothes to pack. I spend the rest of the afternoon doing it and occasional tears trickled down my cheeks as I realized the next time I would be seeing everyone I've seen for the past nineteen years of my life is during next summer. A full year without having the familiar faces that help me through crisis and lift up my smile.

•

Seeing the sunlight coming through my windows is another reminder that my departure is approaching. Since most of my luggage is practically done, I'm availing this day to spending it with my best friend near the lake. He is the only one from my close friend group that isn't on vacation and, although saying goodbye to him will be the hardest thing I will ever have to do, it will hurt more remembering that the last time we were together was at a party and I poured some beer on his head. I was too drunk, no judging.

I call him and thirty minutes later he's at my door with his convertible Mercedes 300 SL Cabrio. It was a gift from his grandfather before dying and he drives it everywhere in town. He stretches the car's limit, barely exceeding its maximum speed of 100 km/h.

"Lorenzo!"

"How I missed you, Sofia! I still haven't forgotten the beer incident, but we're past that now. Right now, the focus is how you are going to leave in less than a day. Mamma Mia, I still can't believe it."

He gets out of the car with his checkered office trousers in tones of brown and beige and white crewneck, his dark brown hair always perfectly parted in the middle and brushed to either sides. A piercing is punched in his helix on his left ear, a slim silver chain is hanging in front of his noticeable collar bone that attracts so many girls and some of his fingers are repleted with silver rings. Calling him pretty is an understatement. This man has no physical flaws and is always surprisingly clean and uses Boss Bottled. Him kissing my cheeks on both sides is what breaks my detailed image of him in my head, while I was trying to think of any details I must have forgotten about his description.

"Where to, miss?" he looks at me, as he opens the door to the passenger seat for me to enter the car. After closing it, he goes around the front of the car towards the driver's seat.

To the stars.

Okay Sofia. Let's calm down. This isn't Leonardo DiCaprio we are talking about, it's Lorenzo. My dearest best friend that would probably scuttle out of the car and out of my view if I said these words out loud. He is too shy and can't handle a bit of platonic flirting.

"Lake Como, I was thinking. And we can grab some gelato while we're there," I said instead. He nods and starts the engine, not before casting me a discrete smirk, revealing a single dimple on his right cheek and creases on the edge of his hazel colored eyes. I start to get why girls fall at his feet.

I smile back.