Bound to the Mafia

Chapter 3 - Serena - 7 Years Ago

I check my phone incessantly throughout the day, taking every excuse to leave class and run to the bathroom or go out to the courtyard for a "breath of fresh air." I know it's becoming an annoying habit, and all of my friends roll their eyes at me when I take out my phone and click the screen open during a face-to-face conversation, just to see if I have any messages from Bruno. They don't understand. It's rude of me, I know. But I can't help it. I just can't stand the thought of accidentally missing one of his rare, almost cryptic messages.

It's a different number every other time or so, because he uses those disposable, pre-loaded crappy little phones from the supermarket. I don't know if it's just because he can't afford a regular cell phone like mine, or if he prefers the air of mystery those burner phones give him.

I don't ask questions like that.

It's not important, really. All that matters is that he stays in contact sometimes. I wish he talked to me more often, but I know he's a busy guy. We couldn't be living more different lives. Class is back in for me and I've started my junior year of high school, and my thoughts are filled with the prospect of prom and passing my exams and turning in term papers. I think about making sure my stupid school uniform is cleaned and ironed every evening before bed, about how I'm going to do my hair and makeup in the morning. I think about whether I'm going to try out for our school's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream to bolster my college applications with some performing arts credits. I worry about which colleges I should apply to and whether I will qualify for scholarships, even though with my dad's money I probably won't need them.

Or at least I used to think about those things. I should still be worrying about that kind of stuff now, too, but instead I'm just checking my phone and zoning out in AP U.S. History class, my mind circling around Bruno and wondering when I'm going to finally see him again. Since the day we first met a couple months ago at the construction site — which has been almost totally finished up by now — we've only seen each other in person a handful of times. Three times, to be exact. We did end up meeting at the park around the corner from my house in Riverdale, but we only had about an hour to spend.

I convinced my mom that I was just going to my friend Gemma's house for dinner and to watch a movie, and then I took a cab to the park. By the time I got there, Bruno had already been waiting for a while. I was late, having been forced to endure my mom's interrogations. But he didn't seem to mind at all. His face lit up when he saw me, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. I nearly floated down the pathway to the little pond where Bruno was sitting on a bench. He had a small bouquet of flowers, as well as a half-full bottle of Campari.

It was a magical hour, just sitting there slowly getting tipsy with my mysterious new beau. Of course, we didn't do anything. Just talked for a while, comparing our favorite books and movies, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. I honestly couldn't even recall what all we discussed, because I was so blissfully caught up in just being in his presence. It was intoxicating, even more so than the Campari we took turns sipping straight from the bottle. Every time our shoulders brushed together, every time he looked directly into my eyes, I felt like I could simply melt into the bench. A puddle of goopy infatuation on the ground.

I hadn't wanted to leave, but I knew the longer I took, the more likely my mom would suspect something was up. Despite the fact that she's never been super involved in what I do with my time and I definitely consider myself closer to my dad, she does seem to have a weird sixth sense about my actions.

Dad always says it's because she and I are so similar, she can anticipate what I'm going to do. But I think that's crazy. We're nothing alike!

The next two times I saw Bruno, it went about the same. I lied to my mom about where I was going, and then I took a cab to see him. Our second date was a movie. Some over-the-top horror movie that normally would have given me nightmares, but since I spent the whole time obsessing over whether or not Bruno was going to try and put his arm around me, I hardly noticed the movie. Even with all the blood and guts and screaming. Bruno is infinitely more interesting.