63 - Can't Help It

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I thought after five weeks in Italy I'd be over Michael. I'd have moved on, maybe even found myself a nice Italian boy. But I hadn't. I only missed him more. I wasn't angry anymore. And what I had said was the truth. I didn't love him any less for the mistakes that he made in the past. So when I touched down in California, the first thing I did was turn on my phone and text him. 

My heart was racing. What if he had a new girlfriend? No way, Gio would have told me. 

I had made Gio keep me updated on Michael since he still worked at his coffee shop.

I took a deep breath and sent the message.

(me): Hi

I was anxiously checking my phone's signal as I made my way through the airport. Why does airport cell service suck so bad?

A smile broke across my face as I saw Cat in the crowd waving a welcome home sign. 

I ran up and she jumped into my arms.

"Ugh, stop growing you munchkin," I teased as I embraced her. 

"Hi, tesoro," my mom greeted pulling me into a hug. 

"Hi, mamma," I smiled, breathing in her familiar scent.

"Come on, lets go get your bags. I want to hear all about your trip. Did you dye your hair?" she asked touching my blond strands.

"Yeah, it's called a balayage. Carmen did it for free," I explained. 

"You're so tan, you look gorgeous," she smiled. 

"Please, ma, I've been on a stinky airplane for like half a day. I just wanna shower," I rolled my eyes.

"Ew," Cat said plugging her nose. 

I laughed, feeling so happy to be home. I couldn't wait to see Siena, Lucia, and Ale and get caught up on what I'd missed while away. 

When we got in the car I checked my phone again and grumbled to myself that he had not yet responded. 

It's fine, Bea. He's probably working.

"Are you hungry?" my mom asked as she started the car and reversed out of the parking spot. 

"Uh, sort of. They fed us dinner and then breakfast on the plane, but you know airplane food always sucks. I could go for something home-cooked," I said, perking up at the thought of her cooking.

"Hmm," she paused in thought as she turned onto the road, "how about some lasagna?"

"Yes!" I said enthusiastically, "That sounds amazing. Thanks, mamma."

We spent the rest of the car ride home talking about my trip, how my grandparents and cousins were doing, and what I wanted to do first now that I was back. I didn't mention wanting to see Michael, but I did say that I had plans to meet up with Siena, Lucia, and Ale tomorrow night for a sleepover.

I sighed in relief as I dropped my bags on my bedroom floor. I smiled as I looked around my room. My mom had definitely cleaned in here. I grabbed my Bluetooth speaker from my dresser and headed to the shower. 

I connected my playlist of new music I had stolen from my cousins while in Italy and "Keanu Reeves" began to play. I smiled at the memory of dancing with them and got into the shower. 

I jumped with excitement when the music lowered and I received a notification on my phone. I quickly rinsed the soap out of my eyes before stepping out of the shower and drying my hands. I picked up my phone with anticipation and smiled with glee at the text alert from Michael.

(Michael): Hi

I bounced with nerves as I struggled to type a response. After erasing multiple different responses I finally went with "are you free some time to meet up?".

I was chilled from standing outside of the shower for so long, but I had to wait for his reply. It was about thirty seconds before the three dots popped up and he began typing. I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest.

(Michael): Definitely. Are you back home already?

(me): Yes, I'm back

(Michael): Okay. I'm free today. I'm off work.

I sighed, Ugh, so he wasn't busy. Just took forever to respond to me.

(me): Okay. Where did you want to meet?

(Michael): Well actually the reason I'm off work is that I'm waiting for a plumber to come to my house. Sorry, I know that might be awkward for you. We can meet up another time if you don't want to come over here.

I thought about it for a minute before responding.

(me): No, that's okay. What time should I come over?

(Michael): Whenever. I'll be here.

(me): Okay, I'll text you when I'm on my way.

I squealed in excitement and hopped back into the shower, the water burning my freezing skin. 

Cazzo, what am I going to wear?

When I got out of the shower, I rifled through my suitcase for something to wear but everything I tried on didn't seem to look good. I finally stepped to my closet and decided to go with a pair of distressed skinny jeans with a cropped off the shoulder sweater. I grabbed my black booties from my suitcase and was interrupted when Cat opened my door.

"Mamma says your food is ready," she announced, looking at the mess I had made of my room. 

"Okay, don't tell mom I made a mess. I'll clean it up later," I smiled, ruffling her hair as I passed her and headed downstairs.

"Where are you going?" my mom asked as she turned around from the sink when I entered the kitchen.

"Oh, just gotta run an errand," I said coyly.

She squinted her eyes at me before placing the steaming lasagna in front of me.

"What?" I asked innocently.

She just shook her head and handed me a glass of water. 

"Grazie, mamma," I smiled widely.

I scarfed down my food, cleaned my dishes, and raced back upstairs to do my hair and makeup. 

I took my time blow drying it and then adding in some soft curls. I added on my necklace that Cat had given me for my birthday and some perfume before shutting off my speaker and doing a once over in the mirror.

I smiled, happy with my appearance, and slung my purse across my body. 

"Bye, ma. I'll be back soon," I called out from the front door where I searched for my keys. 

I'd missed my car. 

"Okay, are you sure you're not too jetlagged?" she asked as she entered the hallway.

"No, I'm wide awake. I promise. If I get too sleepy I'll come straight home," I promised. 

I kissed her cheek and headed out. 

As my phone connected to my car, I texted Michael that I was on my way. I let the music pump me up with excitement as I tried to lower my expectations for what would happen between us. It'd been over a month. He could have moved on by now. 

When I pulled into his driveway I lowered my radio to a normal level and checked my hair and makeup one last time in the mirror before exiting the car. His front porch was decorated with pumpkins and a "Thankful" sign. I smiled to myself. He was Australian, why did he care about Thanksgiving?

I rang the doorbell and a few moments later the door swung open.

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