𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ( 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞)

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝘆𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲𝘀.

~Pintrest~

Lia

The family's loud voices could be heard all over the house. My dad and uncles were seated in the gazebo drinking beers, laughing boisterously, mostly at their own jokes, retelling stories about their youth which we've heard a million times and each more embellished.

We were all eagerly waiting for him—Luca. The family star and hero. He was a formula one driver; he has also been racing since he turned sixteen. My dad and uncle Rom often said part of the reason uncle Bruno was so excited about it was that he was living his racing dream vicariously through Luca, an accusation he never denied.

I was standing at my bedroom window, overlooking the gate; I wanted to see him drive through; I also wanted my first glimpse of him to be private, or at least without the rest of the family reading my facial expressions and having their own interpretation. I could tell the women speculated about why Luca and I had become distant, but none knew the truth, not even my mom.

Placing my hand on my stomach to wade off the millions of butterflies swimming around, I thought of what to say to him, how to begin the conversation. Do I smile and pretend everything was okay? Do I jump on him in a hug as if I wasn't holding a grudge against him? Of course, I have seen him over the years, mainly on big holidays like Christmas and some birthday parties, but never mine. It was also his because we celebrated it together since we were born almost a month apart, as it had been our tradition since we turned five. Having him miss this particular tradition hurt me nearly as much as him walking away that day.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of an engine from afar, and I knew he would be here anytime now. My heart started beating rapidly, and with no rhythm, my hands shook, anxiety overtook me, and I despised this side of me.

I was born and raised a warrior. Growing up, my father often said I had as much grit as any man in a room. I knew I was courageous; I could hold my own in a fight; I had a habit of threatening bullies in school, both boys and girls, and learned how to use a gun when I was four, a toy, but still, the concept was the same. I rarely cried except when reading or watching a sad scene, but Luca brought a weak side that I never knew existed, a side of me that I was beginning to loathe.

Reluctantly, I turned to look at myself in the mirror, another bad habit, because I knew I did because I wanted to see what he would see when he looked at me. I wanted to look good, even unforgettable.

There I was, standing with my hands across my chest. My dark orbs, just like my father's staring back at me, my long curly red hair twirling around my shoulders, lips painted red. Maybe he was right when he said my eyes were as black as sin, and my hair flamed as if it was ready to burn both of us in a forbidden passion.

If I were not so attuned to the vroom of his car, I would have missed it as family cheers swallowed the sound. I turned to the window again to watch him park it-a red Ford Mustang Shelby. I knew it because we learned about old cars together, something else he inherited from his father. I learned it because he loved it, just as he learned about fashion and acting, for I loved it.

Growing up with Luca was as enjoyable as running on a treadmill without stopping to breathe. He was intrigued about everything and wanted to do everything. He excelled in pretty much every sport and everything he put his mind to.

People frequently asked me why I was so good at almost everything, how I could speak five languages fluently, how seamlessly I could fit in any situation no matter the hurdles, and how I knew things that were not taught in any classroom. I used to laugh and say I grew up with an overachiever; I had to keep up somehow. Now I just shrug and say I read.