The Italian Delight

two

Monday morning, 30 minutes of sleep and a mug full of black coffee, just enough to make Marco feel absolutely miserable. How would he feel contented with all the thoughts about his father that occupied his mind at night? Coffee was the only thing that was keeping his eyes somewhat open and his mind somewhat quiet from all the madness, that was happening there just a few minutes ago. He has to start another day and do good, even though the only reason he decided not to skip the school today was seeing Sophia. When coffee doesn't help, she's the only salvation. He took his sweet five minutes to get ready and once he was, he left the place like a ghost. Like there'd be no life behind those eyes. He was tired. He was convinced if he would lay down in this exact moment, it wouldn't take one minute for him to fall asleep. But that's not possible. How he hated these mornings. And how he hated the fact that he can't do anything about it.

Finally, there was a flicker of the possibility of surviving that day as soon as he noticed Sophie sitting on a bench at the end of the street. She always waited for Marco in this exact spot, and when he asked why, she always justified it by saying it's the place she firstly said 'I love you' to him. That bench happened to be a bit of a symbol of their love, they often found themselves sitting there and going back to all the memories they've made together.

She's sitting there, her hands resting on the exact same place where they were as she said those words to Marco. And as he was approaching her with a bit of sleep still left underneath his eyelids, he found himself thinking about how lucky he was. Thinking about his younger self, he realised that he has never this thankful. Since he remembered, from time to time while trying to fall asleep, he was thinking about what he could've changed about himself to be loveable.

At first, the oldest memories he had, he was worried about his height. He was always a bit shorter than the people around him, often even shorter than the girls. His father often said with this height, he's perfect just for one thing.
To be beaten up. Once his mother decided to leave Italy with Marco and Agnese, his height stopped being the main issue; now he was afraid about being a bit too quiet and not being the best at making friends. He tried to hide his fear being the language barrier, because he indeed needed his two years of nonstop English to get used to the new language. Somewhere deep down he knew he was more afraid because he didn't see himself fitting into the team.

But now, he gets to look at Sophie and think that this is how it was planned. This was meant to happen. They were meant to meet. And if he'd doubt for a second, Sophie's hand in his would open his eyes again. So that's exactly what he needs after the night of thinking about her as a distraction. Without any hesitation, he gently scoops the palm of her hand into his. She lets out that small giggle Marco could die for. He'd die for anything about her.

But even though he felt like his problems are solved for a while, he was way too tired. His brain was overworked from the night before so he practically couldn't focus at anything Sophie was speaking about. He still heard her voice, he was walking next to her, holding her hand, nonetheless he was still too exhausted to recognise the meanings of various words. And she didn't know. Perhaps she did, but she couldn't care less. She wouldn't be quiet for a while. If there was just a bit more life in Marco's veins, he'd probably try his best to listen to her. That was impossible today though. Her voice sounded like it was surrounding him and he couldn't escape it. He was getting lost in her words like in the fog. He suddenly felt like she might be the kindest woman she has ever seen, but it's not her who deserves better than Marco. It was that Marco deserved someone who could sometimes just shut up. Someone who wouldn't get offended if Marco asked her to speak a bit less because he was starting to get a migraine.

It all felt way too heavy.

He wouldn't believe he was thinking this, but he was thankful that he didn't have his classes with Sophie. He was trying to stay positive, but if he heard one more sentence from her mouth, he'd probably scream at her. Which he didn't want to do. So that was definitely why he was thankful. Not that he'd be annoyed by her. That's not the case. He's just way too conscious to know how much his words could hurt her and that if he did, he'd probably never get a chance to apologise.

He just needed to sit down behind his desk and blankly stare at the empty classroom without any chit chats interrupting him. Coffee didn't help. Sophie made it even worse. What could help now? He was too tired to pay attention to anything now, he didn't even know for how long he had been staring at the wall in front of him.

He didn't even notice his best friend John has entered the room and sat down next to him. John himself seemed like he had a very rough night. He was even paler than usual, his eyelids looked just as heavy as Marco's, his lips slightly parted.
In fact, John was used to Marco being too tired to notice his presence and vice versa, and he was understanding the fact that if Marco is sleepy, there's no point in trying to speak with him. They wouldn't speak together their entire schedule, and in some Marco's brighter moment, he realised that with John, they can stay silent the entire day and it wouldn't be embarrassing.

He doesn't even have to ask John to shut up, he senses it himself, and Marco was indeed thankful for that.
It was not that they would argue and then not speak, how people often assumed. Well, in the case of a fight, John was mature enough to wait for the situation to calm down a bit and then he would make sure Marco was ready and committed to talk it out. If he was, they'd either have a phone call, or, if it was more serious, they'd hang out together and talk it out in person.

John really was a great friend, and Marco was admiring his emotional strength. In their friendship, Marco actually felt like he was half of it. Like it was balanced. John's sovereignty combined with respect perfectly completed Marco's emotionality and commitment. For many people who didn't know their history, it could look like they're actually way too close for being friends. But neither one of them found anything strange about the friendship they made, since both of them agreed it didn't feel one-sided.

There is nothing wrong with using your own qualities to keep such a rare friend in your life, right?

That was the next thing Marco understood thanks to John; he needed to learn not to care about people who can't understand it. They're experiencing the truth, and they both are allowed to believe in their ability to keep this friendship running.

Marco even tried to ask Sophie if she doesn't mind him being 'way too close' with John, which basically meant them just hanging out together laughing about the most random stuff, but she was always way too busy explaining why her best friend's cousin cheated on her boyfriend with her neighbour's dad.

So Marco supposed she didn't mind.

And that was actually what he hoped to hear from her, because Marco believed John was the only person who genuinely cared about him. He definitely wouldn't want to lose his contact with John because of Sophie, even though he loved her more than anything, he wasn't sure if she was worthy of losing his best friend. Since he was allowed to have both a wonderful girlfriend and a wonderful friend, he definitely couldn't complain about anything.

Just the lack of sleep, but he was used to it anyway.