Il Mare Diviso, The Divided Sea

Chapter 1

Valentina

"Take one sip for me Valentina please, for old times sake," Noel starts across the room holding out a shot of vodka as I remained, splayed comfortably across her sofa.

I wave away the drink, gesturing to the Chinotto that I was happily sipping on, leaving Noel to pout sullenly before settling in her La-Z-Boy accent chair, "You know I don't drink, stop trying to corrupt me," I tease.

Noel shakes her head, "I have no clue how you can drink that, it's absolutely vile." I smile at her, indulging on the sweet and bitter taste of the drink that reminded me the most of my Italian lineage. The drink always brought back memories of my childhood in Florence, when I would run along the winding roads looking for a new shop where I would wield my childhood appeal in order to swipe candy from the local vendor. Everytime I returned home from these escapades, my foster mom would be waiting for me on the front patio smoking a cigarette. She would take one look at my tousled hair and windswept cheeks and tsk, "Eccola di nuovo, rubando dalla gente del posto." There she goes again, stealing from the locals.

Noel snaps her fingers, "Earth to Val, I hope you're not daydreaming about Little Jerusalem again." She runs her hand through her hair, shaking out her long blonde waves before plopping herself on the ground. 

It has been over a year since I last came to Noel's penthouse, and it looks incredibly foreign to me now. The penthouse is shared between herself, David, and Armie - David, Armie, and I had gone to school together at NYU, leaving Noel to meet David through their jobs at Google who then introduced her. We all took a liking to one another and our friendship has been one of the best things I could ever hope for, "Don't call me Val, you know how much I hate that," I say, nudging her arm with my foot as she lay on the floor.

The penthouse they live in was a three bedroom, allowing each person their own space. It was decked out with floor to ceiling windows that took up a wall in the living room, granting them a beautiful view of the Upper East Side. I looked at my favorite wall in their home - the mural I had completed for them the last time I was here. It was a mashup of all the Marvel characters, whose bright colors animated the original look of the living room. The red background allowed the superheroes to remain striking in their individual positions. I look at the mural now, studying the bold style in which I drew each character, and couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of myself. The rest of the room, in order to contrast the intensity of mural, was decorated in a minimalist style - white walls sparingly containing simplistic art and line style, light wood and mid-century tables.

She takes her shot, eventually emptying my own glass, "Why are you here if you're not going to drink with me?" Her brown eyes open instantly, her cheeks flushing from the heat of the drink.

I pat down my hair, turning my head to the side and stare at her, "Because it is 1:30 in the afternoon, and you are supposed to be on your lunch break, not drinking with friends. How the hell are you still employed?" Noel is a software engineer at Google with David, her intelligence a testament to how successful she has become. However, it still manages to surprise me how contrasting her personality is to her level of intelligence.

She removes her ankle boots, pushing them to the side as she lays on the floor, her black shirt riding up as it picks up hairs from the cable-fiber rug, "I just need a break from this terrible day," She sits up immediately, "I can't tell you how incredibly frustrating it is to update scrum sheets without the UI needed in order to input specific details. I am going to quit, I'm sick of it." She sighs back again and falls to the floor. She closes her eyes, her black eyelashes grazing her cheeks.

"I'm not even going to begin to explain to you the multitude of ways I will never understand you," I drain the remainder of my Chinotto. "What's the real reason you called me here?"