Chapter 3
I sat cross-legged on the bench, listening to the quiet and sipping herbal tea as I watched the sun rise. The sky was painted with pinks and oranges, with a bit of blue at the very top. Silhouettes of trees were black against the sky, and birds called to one another from their branches.
After about twenty minutes, Gianluca’s screen door opened and he came out in a thin gray T-shirt and jeans.
He looked over and saw me, and smiled that crooked smile.
I found myself wishing he’d come over.
To my delight, he did.
“Good morning,” he said in that beautiful accent. “You’re up early.”
I patted the bench next to me, and he sat.
“I always get up this early, what’s your excuse?”
He laughed a little, “I’m still getting used to the time change. So how are you today?”
“Excited!” I said. “I’m going exploring again today, and I don’t have to study a bit!”
“Sounds fun,” he said.
We sat quietly, and I looked over him, admiring his thick dark hair, brown eyes, and beautiful jaw line. Italians are such beautiful people. He looked over at me, too.
Something stirred in my mind.
I would love to talk more with Gianluca, get to know him, hear his stories.
“Gianluca,” I said, “Would you…want to come with me? To go exploring?”
He smiled.
“I’d love to.”
I smiled back.
“My mother says it might rain today, so wear something that can get wet, okay?”
“I’ll just wear this, I guess” he said, looking down at his gray shirt and jeans.
“I’m going to change, and then are you okay to leave?”
“Sure,” he said, “I’ll go and get my bike.”
I got up and went inside to put on a swimsuit top underneath my T-shirt, and I left my jean shorts on. I wrote a note to my mother, who was still asleep, then went out, where Gianluca was waiting.
“Let’s go!” I said, pulling my bike from the bushes.
***********************
We rode for about an hour, just heading away from our neighborhood. I wanted to reach about where yesterday’s trail was, so I could go through a place I hadn’t been before.
Eventually we reached a part of the woods where the first trail had been, but I could tell it was a different one.
I got off my bike, and so did Gianluca.
“Let’s go down this one, okay?”
“Fine with me. Do you ride this far everyday?”
I smiled.
“Why, am I wearing you out, Gianluca?”
“Yes!”
I laughed.
We hid our bikes behind some trees and set off down the trail.
A summer breeze rustled our hair as we crunched over the little rocks.
أنت تقرأ
Gianluca Ginoble and I
قصص الهواةThe boys of Il Volo say that Italian boys love three things: eating, soccer, and their mothers. But when Gianluca Ginoble meets Naomi Kendall, a beautiful girl in awe of the world around her, he might have to add her to his list.
