Devotion

twenty six ﾒ nonna

LUCA

"Oh, my God, you're so cranky today," I say, turning to face Angelica who scrunches her face behind me. She follows me eagerly without complaint. I open the door and step to the side as she walks out first before I'm the one following her.

She looks over her shoulder as she walks. "Where are you taking me?" Her green eyes glow like flowers, nature as she keeps staring at me. Green eyes are very intimidating, I realize. I turn her head forward so she can avoid bumping into a pole before crouching to her height of 5'4. "We are going to pick up, Nonna," I say.

"Wha—" she starts as I unlocked my car. "But, I have coding and math homework to get to!" She exclaims, rounding my car to the passenger. She mutters under her breath as she struggles to open the door. I walk over to where she is and open the door for her, "See, not so hard?" I ask teasingly with a smirk.

Angelica launches her belongings into the backseat. "Shit!" She yells. "My laptop! And glasses!" Well, isn't she a ball of clumsiness and rain clouds today? Her lower half is only visible as she fists all her things back to the front, and when she comes back into clear view, she blows her hair out of her face. "Okay, I'm ready to go," she says.

I lean against the car door. "You sure?" I ask for confirmation. She's a mess, and she's lucky I'm okay with dealing with so although she kind of pisses me off. "Yes," Angelica whispers. "Give me a second." I nod and walk back over to the driver's seat, opening the door, and turning on the engine swiftly. She gets herself settled into the seat and turns on her wireless router for her laptop so she can still work.

For a second, I creepily stare at her minding her business, admiring her work ethic. Never does she give up at any given time to work as hard, I respect that. Not many people in college, nevertheless, anywhere, can keep up as much as Angelica. Unfortunately, the staring session I found myself caught up in had come to an end when her face rotated in my direction with a grimace. "Creep, aren't you going to drive and quit staring? I look terrible," she says.

"Yeah," I said, driving out of the curb parking and into the streets of New York City. "I can't even disagree with you on that statement. You look like absolute shit." I laugh, genuinely laugh.

Her lips quirked up slightly as she stared at her glasses. "Shut up, you're not allowed to agree with me, Bertarelli. That's only reserved for people who are close to me, and you are fortunately not in that circle."

"Oh really?" I ask, my arm resting on the open as I keep my eyes on the road. I glance at her for a few seconds before turning back, "Then where do I stay?"

Angelica sighs, releasing a huge breath of air. "I mean, you're okay to be around sometimes. Not all the time. Since our families still hate one another. Dinners every Sunday don't make everything sunshine and rainbows. And my brother hates you, my dad thinks you're a bad idea. He disagrees with the partner project thing." An eyebrow raises at the constant mention of our parents and this rivalry. "Wouldn't that be considered friends?"

A disgusted gasp escapes from her, with no hesitation. "Oh, my goodness. Don't say that! We aren't friends. We are just...associates and acquaintances. We worked together and happened to know one another during childhood. Nothing else."

This awfully sounds like denial, I'm afraid. "Ah, I see," I say. I don't have a fucking clue what the hell I'm seeing, but I've beginning to see Angelica as a friend. As disgusting as that sounds. Thank God I said that shit in my head. But even friends could fuck up our families, this agreement, the project, all of it. Friendship is crossing boundaries. And what would make matters worse? Our parents find out that we are fake dating to get Mia off my back but apparently Mia likes to be a little homewrecker.

"You do realize, we have history you can't mentally erase? Like, at senior prom, we—" A manicured hand slaps over my mouth. "Don't finish that sentence!" She interrupts, "I don't want to think about that. Focus!"

I smirk against her hand. "You keep tormenting me for moments before our parents caught onto our antics. That was high school. This is college. I understand I'm amazing, but damn, can you please reminisce about moments like that away from me?"

We spent the majority of the car ride to the international airport in Queens, New York with Angelica trying to avoid memories. Also, with her hand around my mouth because it was better than her being grumpy. It almost got me pulled over too. We arrive at the airport, and she wastes no time scrambling out of the car. "I have to pee," she whisper-yells. As if I'm not in front of her. "Right," I drawl, "It's bathroom break time? Want a nap to go with it?"

"Fuck you," she seethes, slapping my arm. "I took my nap before I ate lunch with Leilani." She fixes her hair and blows out a strained breath. She glances at me for a second, sliding her phone into her pocket. "Why don't you go into professional hockey?" I tuck my keys into my pocket and lock the car all in the process while entering the airport.

"How did you manage to switch from insulting me to asking me about my professional career? And why does it matter?" I ask her, pulling her to the opposite side because she somehow almost knocked herself into a chair. "Plus, we went over this, De Santis. I'm fine with doing hockey as a hobby." Angelica's eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "But you're good, and I don't like you enough to compliment you on your achievements. You could become like a household name."

I smile at her antics. "I appreciate the compliment...?" I ask, confused.

"Good, because that's the most you're getting out of me," she says over her shoulder. Just before I can reply to her smart response, she quickly snaps her head in a different direction. "Oh, there's a McDonald's! Where's my card?" She pats her pockets. "Damn it, I left my shit in the car," she whispers to herself. I hold her shoulders and direct her to the McDonald's counter. "Hi, may we have a...?" I look down at Angelica for the order.

She looks up at me. "I don't want you to pay," she whispers. "No, I can do it myself." I release my grip from her shoulders and grab my wallet, pulling out my American Express card. "Order whatever you want, and I'll pay for it," I say to her.

Angelica stands there for five minutes ordering half of the menu before munching on fries as we stand near the terminal. As Angelica indulges herself in her food fiasco, Nonna walks out with her cane and pink suitcase. "Luca!" Nonna yells, catching the majority of the airport's attention. "It's my favorite grandson," her Italian-American accent heavy. Yeah, that definitely did not change. Her thin frame walks out and she angles her head high to catch a glimpse of Angelica before a smirk paints her lips.

Nonna's frail arms meet my waist and I hold her head near my chest, kissing her forehead. "I'm your only grandchild, fortunately," I said. She laughs and lets go. "Thank fuck for that. I couldn't do no more kids after you, my gosh, they'd blow my fucking brains out—" She interrupts herself. "Ugh, Angel, come here, sweetie," she says.

She does as told and hugs Nonna. "Hi, Nonna." My grandmother turns her head to me. "Luca, did you both get married? No invites?"

"Uh," I say warily, unable to find the words to tell her, No, I didn't marry Angelica. "No, just...classmates. Associates and acquaintances," I said. Nonna's smile lowers as she hears this. Sadly, even though our fathers go head to head, she's always wanted Angelica to be mine. My father has repeated many times, "Don't fall in love with the enemy, son. They'll fuck you over and all that."

"Are you serious?" She exclaims. "So, I bought myself a fucking plane ticket over here just to see you both as associates? I've got a bone to pick with you, Luca."

"Wait," Angelica and I both say in unison. "You're moving back to New York?" Nonna places a hand on her chest as if offended we dared to question. "I was going to move into Luca's apartment. The penthouse, it's real nice." She nods. Jesus.