Love Triangle

The boy with a Vespa

Alice P.O.V.

I had exactly 11 hours and 52 minutes to travel 9,956 kilometers across the globe to get to Santa Monica Pier. Oh, and did I mention 4,4923 of those encompassed the Atlantic Ocean?

My name is Alice Smith. At the time at which this story takes place I was 15 years old, soon to be 16. 'Twas the summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school, precisely July 23rd, when I made the dumbest choice of my life. That choice is exactly attempting to reach the Santa Monica Pier in less than 12 hours. Keep in mind, I was 15, had not planned the trip in advance, and lived in a small town right on the border between Italy and Slovenia. 

Spoiler alert: I didn't make it to Santa Monica, but what I did do, on July 23rd, was meet the two most precious boys of my life: Simon and Isak.

Oh, what a story we'd have to tell...

Simon P.O.V.

I sent a message on my phone to my mom that I was on my way home, before putting on my shiny, black helmet, ready to start up my Vespa and go home. I swung my leg over the seat and started the engine when a blonde girl hopped on the back and yelled: "You going to Venice?"

I was so shocked that I fell off my bike, unfortunately leaving a small scratch. I took my helmet off and looked up at the girl. She wore high-waisted light-wash denim shorts with a clunky black belt. She had a black Panic! At the Disco shirt tied in a knot at the front to make it a crop top, and black converse high-tops. As far as I could tell she had no make-up on, but she was beautiful nonetheless. I stared absent-mindedly into her blue eyes, puzzled, until she raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. 

"So are you gonna take me to Venice or not?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her. 

"Uhm.." I said slowly taking off my helmet and running a and through my curly, brown hair, "Who are you?"

"Alice Smith." she said proudly with a smile, then the put out her hand. I took it, and she pulled me up off the ground. 

"And I suppose I should know the name of the noble man who will be taking me to Venice and to whom I will owe a huge favor," said Alice, batting her eyes. 

I squinted at her for a moment. 'Is this chic for real?' I thought to myself. "Look I'm not taking you to Venice," I told her, and turned around to pick up my Vespa, running my pointer finger down the fresh scratch. 

"Why not?" Alice pouted.

"Because," I said, slightly annoyed, "I don't know you, and I don't have time to go all the way to Venice."

"Oh, the man's got things to do!" mocked Alice, raising an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes and put my helmet over my head.

"Wait!" said Alice, putting a hand on my shoulder as I turned around to mount my bike. "Can you at least drive me home?" she pleaded.

"Let me guess, you live in Venice?" I huffed.

"Pssht! I wish," said Alice with a small laugh. "My only purpose in this town is to bring the average age down."

I laughed, we lived in a town in which 50% of the population was over the age of 65. 

"I live about 15 minutes from here," said Alice, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes.

I didn't reply immediately, but sighed wondering whether I should trust this Alice Smith, when she suddenly punched me in the arm. "Come on! Take some risks, what do you have to lose?"

"I would like to avoid getting kidnapped," I said, rolling my eyes even though she couldn't see since I was wearing a helmet. I got on my Vespa and Alice climbed on behind me.