Those Days of Summer

05 - Quite something

When we arrived at the beach, the girls were lazing around on the sand, accompanied by Carmina's boyfriend, Vito. The couple was all clingy, cuddling and swaying to the summer hits playing through a compact speaker. Paolina simply couldn't stop smiling from the moment she saw Marcel. The girl was definitely trying to get on the right side of his. Her face changed for a moment when she noticed I was coming along though.

"Ciao Paolina." I tried to act casually, even though we were no longer chumming along. "Come va? Anything new in Vagli Sopra?"

"Same old." She replied, eyeballing my silhouette. "You've brazened since last summer," I might have heard a dose of admiration in her voice. "But you're still skinny as shit. Some exercise wouldn't hurt. Just look at Marcel," she smiled at him. "Running everyday, aren't you?"

"Why don't you go and jog yourself, Paolina?" I replied bitterly, crossing my arms on the chest.

"Yeah, why not? Would you mind if I join your morning run tomorrow, Marcel?"

He smiled kindly, leaned towards her with a bright face and answered, "How about I show you a few exercises? Just running isn't enough to grow muscles."

I rolled my eyes. Their little game was making me sick. It was obvious she was only into him to get laid and boast about how she stole the heart of a foreign model. The girl was a maneater. The question was - will he catch the hook?

"Go on," Paolina laughed lightly. "A bit of pilates won't hurt."

I laid down on the towel, opening some book I grabbed from the shelf before leaving. Focusing on the letters wasn't an easy task. My eyes kept going back to Marcel's half-naked silhouette, doing the most ridiculous variants of abs exercises on the sand. He was flexing in front of Paolina, making her blush, laugh and shy away from the attempts of imitating his actions.

When our eyes finally met I couldn't catch the meaning of his glance. Did he notice a spark of jealousy in my look? He sent me a fleeting smile and ran into the water, ignoring both me and the girl he was just trying to impress. Paolina looked at me briefly before joining him, undeterred and with a smiling face.

"Hey, Marcel," she accosted him when we were drinking beer on the shore later that day. "I'm throwing a party on Saturday night. Would you join?"

He gave her a suspicious look from over the bottle of Peroni.

"Occasion?"

"Eighteenth birthday," answered Carmina in place of her friend, chuckling under her nose.

That was about right. I recalled that Paolina used to make some sort of celebration at the start of each summer vacation when we were kids.

"Oh my, that's huge," Marcel suddenly became all excited. "We must go, right Vic?"

"I'm sorry?" I was surprised he even considered my participation. Paolina seemed no less shocked.

"What would you like to get, Paola? We have to pick something special," he continued.

"Oh, come on," she laughed nervously. "Your presence is just enough of a gift."

"Nonsense, we'll think of something nice, won't we, Vic?" He put his hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer, as if it was something we've decided about mutually.

Right... I didn't dare to argue this time. The temptation to see utter disappointment on the girl's face was stronger than the fear of Marcel demasking my motives. So I agreed, even offered myself to borrow Marco's car and drive us to Castelnuovo in search of presents. Marcel was rapturous, Paolina thrown off balance. And their reactions were quite a satisfying thing to watch, I must admit.

"Why did you have to drag me into this whole birthday thing?" I asked him when we were left alone on our way home.

"I just thought it would be fun." He shrugged his shoulders with a smirk.

With his modeling career he must have been used to partying. By all means, it's not a requirement to attend all the social gatherings accompanying fashion events. But participation in little banquets and after-parties can surely open a door or two. I imagined Marcel must have been in his element during those. A life like that was not something an introvert of my kind would easily pursue though.

"I'm not quite the party person," I said with a bitter undertone. "You must've noticed it already."

He just looked at me with an amused expression on his face, and continued to climb the pebbled path, completely unbothered. Another one of his games, I thought, and stopped suddenly, crossing my arms on my chest. He came over to me, and leaned on the ledge by the road slightly surprised, but with a wide smile on his face.

"Does it make you happy?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Why did you agree?" He fixed me with a calm stare.

"I have my reasons," I replied with my chin perked high, and my eyes looking the other way.

"Reasons, what reasons?" He seemed amused with my tentative answer.

"Not gonna tell you."

"Give me one. One reason," he continued to banter me. "Please. Please, pretty please."

He was jumping around me like a little child trying to unsettle its parents. God, he could be a pain in the ass, with all those little fixations, games and joking around. I finally reached my hand out, trying to contain him.

"Yeah, fine." I paused, waiting for him to calm down, and biting my lips nervously. "Fine. I just wanted to see that bitch unhinged. What a nuisance," I finished off, a little too emotionally involved in the matter.

"You don't like Paola?"

What kind of question was it? Do you ask if it rains, when there is water pouring down on you from the sky? A blind man would see we were no good friends, her and me.

"I don't know, do YOU like her, Marcel?" I fired off, not thinking much.

Did I turn red, delivering the line? Was my expression funny? Were my hands trembling? He was looking at me a little shocked, yet all entertained. He shook his head in disbelief before throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me further in home's direction, ending our little halt.

"You really are quite something, Vic," He laughed, ruffling my hair. "You really are."

He left my question unanswered in the end, changing the subject when we neared the entrance gate. I didn't understand him and his saucy ways. He must have been into that girl, mustn't he? Why else would he react the way he did?

The thought of them together was making me sick. Laying in bed at night, my imagination was projecting crazy frames on the walls of my mind. In my head I was seeing these two slow-dancing under pale moonlight. His hands on her waist, her knee slipping between his legs, his fingers entwined with her hair, her tongue rushing into his mouth. Disgusting. I sat down and led my sight to the other end of the room. He was sleeping. Calm, relaxed, brown locks of his hair covering his forehead.

Why? Why must I have fallen so fast, so hard into a guy like him? We were complete opposites, night and day. He was so outgoing, wild, lively, doing whatever flashes his mind without any restraints. While I had to think everything through, deconstructing my emotions, searching for a way, and never going for it. It was already difficult as it was. And now this...

I somehow couldn't imagine he would truly be interested in that girl. Did he really flirt with her there on the beach? He was flirting with everyone, after all. That charm was inextricably bound to his personality. If he wanted to spend time with her, why would he drag me to the party? What did he really think of me? Of her? I knew nothing, I understood nothing. And maybe there was nothing to understand.

"You really are quite something," I whispered to myself, lying on my side and observing Marcel's peaceful face. "You really are..."