A Summer Like No Other

Chapter 12 - Nick

I'd like to punch past-me in the face.

For several reasons.

One, present-me can't take enough cold showers. If I ever thought that one make-out session with Em would be sufficient, I was delusional.

Two, past-me should have never let her leave the studio after telling her about Claire Carter. She muttered that nothing was making any sense and then she left. Present-me can't reach her. Present-me has no clue what to do. I grab my cell from my desk. I check my messages. Again. "Your father will be home late." That's my dad's assistant. "Happy Fourth of July." Mom even included a smiley face. But she hasn't called.

My fingers hover over the screen. Maybe I could text Em.

Again.

It's been four days.

Four days and she hasn't been to the studio, she hasn't returned my calls, she hasn't updated any of her social media, she hasn't told Rob because when I saw him, he seemed totally oblivious. And I couldn't press without sounding suspicious. I flop on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Today, she won't be able to ignore me. It's the Fourth of July and Rob invited me to join them in Central Park.

I close my eyes. I've been up all night, checking online for more clues, checking Dad's office for any files that would help Em, checking her old pictures on Facebook. There's a bunch of the two of us: dancing of course, but also jumping in the pool at their house in the Hamptons, laughing by the fire last year, on my birthday. I look happy in those pictures; she does too. And I'm starting to see why Jen always bitched about the time I was spending with Em, why all my girlfriends complain about her.

My cell rings, and I quickly sit up. Rob's calling—it's like he knows I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about his sister.

"Hey Nico," Rob says. "Can you do me a big favor?"

"I would say sure but the last time you asked me for a big favor, I almost got arrested."

He laughs. "Don't worry, it's not about helping me break into a lab." He pauses. "Can you stay with Em today?"

"I thought we were all going to chill in Central Park and wait for the fireworks. It's our first Fourth of July in the city."

"I wanted to. But Giovanni wants us to drive to Cape Cod for a few days. Come on, you met Giovanni. He's I-ta-lian." He emphasizes the last words as if that's supposed to explain everything. "Like not Little Italy, but Italy, my country."

I chuckle. "You were born here, your dad was born here, your grandfather was born here. You're more American than me, dude.'

"Whatever. I'm Italian and he's Italian and he's so hot and he's funny. And he's got this accent."

"Okay, I get it. No Fourth of July fireworks for you."

"Oh there might be. I'm hoping there will be." He laughs. "Anyways, Dad and Mom are trying to figure out some more financial stuff and it's tense in here. Em has been even more OCD than usual. And all of her friends are in the Hamptons." He sighs. "Nonna even has plans with someone she met at the market." He pauses and then repeats each word slower. "She's seventy and she has plans."

"I get it. You want to make sure your sister isn't alone." I pace around in my room.

"You're my last resort. Trust me."

"Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence." I pick up a collage Em made for my birthday last year—pictures of all of us, funny quotes and some of my official dancing photographs. That was the first time someone ever made something for me.