Gianluca Ginoble and I

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

*Gianluca’s point of view

 

          I sat at the bottom of the stairs, nervously running my hands over my thighs. It wasn’t seven yet. Any second Naomi would bound up the porch steps, laughing and sopping wet, breathless to tell me about the adventure she’d had. She’d run upstairs to dry off and change, and we could go to dinner.

I checked the hall clock, and ran a hand through my hair.

I heard someone on the porch steps, and I jumped up, but it was Piero who entered.

I sat back down, disappointed, and he asked, “Any sign of her yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you call her?”

“Of course! She won’t answer!”

“Let me try.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed, as the rain slowed a little. He held it to his ear and chewed his tongue, as he does when he gets impatient.

Then he turned to me, his brow furrowed.

“Do you hear that?”

We listened. I turned and dashed up the steps, and Piero followed. I went into my room and got on my hands and knees, reaching under the desk to produce Naomi’s phone.

“Oh, man…” Piero said, and I dropped it on the floor and ran my hands over my face.

He put his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, cheer up; it’s not even seven yet! Just wait; she’s coming!”

Ignazio appeared in the doorway, and Piero stooped to pick up the phone, showing it to him.

“Oh…” he said, realizing who it belonged to.

I was on my knees, shaking my head, fear rising in my chest.

“Come on, Gianluca,” Ignazio said, and I got up and followed them downstairs.

We sat at the bottom of the steps and waited, the boys trying to talk to me, but I refused to answer. I bounced my foot nervously.

The clock struck seven.

Ms. Kendall worriedly approached us.

“Is she here?”

I shook my head.

“Oh. Well, sometimes she gets distracted. Let’s just give her a while…”

Everyone gathered in the house, my parents, Piero’s family, Ignazio’s family, and the three of us. Everyone was joining the wait for Naomi. The boys and I moved to the kitchen table.

“I’m sure she’s on her way,” my mother kept telling Ms. Kendall, patting her hand. Ms. Kendall nodded, but didn’t look so sure.

It was seven-thirty…

“Let’s give her until eight…” Ms. Kendall said, and everyone agreed.

As time passed, I got increasingly more nervous. The rain was coming down hard, and nightmares about what could be happening to her rose to my mind.

I wanted to see her, touch her, talk to her. I wanted her to run in and hug me and apologize for being late, and then I could take her out with me to dinner. Or maybe not, if she was tired. I could hold her and she would fall asleep against me, listening to the Il Volo album.

I rubbed circles on my thighs and ran my hands through my hair over and over again, waiting.

Ms. Kendall tapped her nails on the cabinet, and my mom chewed hers.