What Is Home?

Friends Right?

*Pretend this whole chapter is in Italian!*

Chesca POV:

3 miles. That's how far I had to go. The first two miles I ran as fast as I could, both out of fear of my mother catching me and also out of fear of what could be lurking in the dark. It's almost 2am. Nobody sane is out at this hour.

I ran up and down the hills of Positano. The smell of the Mediterranean wafting up into my nose and making it smell like home. Like all the good memories that I had growing up here.

But this isn't home anymore.

For the first two miles I was running on pure adrenaline up and down the steep streets, but eventually the weight of my backpack started to settle in. The weight of it on my shoulders and back began to slow me down.

I stopped running, holding my hands up above my head as I took deep breaths. Though I was tired, I kept walking knowing that I couldn't stop now.

Where I was going was the only place that I could go really. It was the one place my parents would never think to look for me at. Hell if you had told me even two days ago where I'd be going right now I'd tell you that you were crazy. That it would probably be better for me if I just stayed locked up in my room at home. But what's worse than going where I am, is being sent to conversion therapy.

Hence why I'm doing probably one of the stupidest things I've ever done.

The house is close enough to home that I can contact Chesco if I really need to. It's also close enough where I can sneak back home to steal more money out of my savings if I need too. The 1,000 euros in my bag is already a lot to get caught with. I don't want to risk carrying anything more with me.

She also still goes to school with Francesco which is why it has to be her house that I'm going to. She'll be able to contact Chesco if I need her to and I know that she'll help me. She has to after what she did to me.

When I finally got to the house I stopped, standing on the sidewalk. All the memories of everything that happened between us came flooding back. From growing up together, to our kiss, to her betrayal, and to me getting sent away. Every single memory, good and bad flooded my mind. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

This better work.

I stepped off of the sidewalk and onto the grass of the front yard. I walked around to the side of the house where the bedroom window sat just above the side porch.

I carefully placed my hands on the railing of the porch to make sure that it would hold my weight before I placed my foot on it and climbed up. I then shook my backpack off of my shoulders and threw it up onto the porch roof with a slight thud. Then I grabbed the edge of the roof. I took a couple of deep breaths before jumping and doing a pull up motion to hoist myself up onto the roof.

Once I was on the roof, I carefully gained my footing before slinging the backpack back over my shoulders. I then walked over towards the bedroom window and knocked on it. When I didn't hear a response, I knocked again. This time slightly louder than the first.

Suddenly, I could hear rustling from inside the room before the lamp on the nightstand was flicked on. My heart lurched as I watched her silhouette get up from the bed and shuffle over towards the window. She carefully pressed her face against the window and looked out, her eyes going wide when they met mine. She quickly unlocked the window and opened it up.

"Francesca? What are you doing here?" Cecilia asked.

"I need your help." I whispered.

"Okay um, come in." Cecilia said as she stepped back to make room for me. I took off my backpack and handed it to her before carefully crawling through the window and into her room. As I stepped in, the warm air hit me and I instantly relaxed. It was much better than being out in the cold.