Gianluca Ginoble and I

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

          We left very early on a Saturday morning, and when I say early, I mean four A.M.

          I lugged my suitcase to the front door and made myself coffee instead of tea for once, going outside to say good bye to my garden and to the bunnies. My friends had agreed to come over and keep up with the garden for me.

          I put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, wanting to be comfortable as I planned on sleeping, or trying to sleep, on the plane. I’m not a fan of small, cramped spaces, and I was hoping it wouldn’t trigger a panic attack.

          I warned Gianluca about this when he and his parents came over with their suitcases.

          “That’s fine,” he said, kissing my cheek. “You’ll be surrounded by us and our families. There’s no need to worry, alright?”

          I nodded.

          We took taxis to the airport, and after waiting for what felt like forever, we were allowed to board the plane.

          Gianluca insisted on sitting next to me, and my mother sat on the other side of me, slipping her headphones on and opening a magazine.

          Piero’s family were in the seats in front of us, and Ignazio’s were behind us, with Gianluca’s parents behind them.

When we took off, I sat silently, telling myself it was okay to have a panic attack. There were so many people, though, and it was loud, and the ground was unsteady. I put my hands over my ears and closed my eyes.

          Gianluca touched my arm gently and I let him take my hands.

          “You’re okay,” he murmured. “Try to sleep, okay? You’re fine.”

          My mother nodded at me, taking out an earbud.

          “Listen to him,” she said.

          I took out The Old Man and the Sea and leaned my head on Gianluca’s shoulder.

          I focused on the words of the book, and Gianluca leaning his head on mine. Eventually I did fall asleep.

          When I woke, Gianluca and Piero were talking softly.

          “Good morning,” Gianluca said to me as I rubbed my eyes.

          I smiled sleepily, and he kissed my cheek.

          “We’re thinking about doing a concert in Abruzzo, to show our fellow Italians what we’ve been up to,” Gianluca said.

          “What do you think?” Piero asked, from the seat in front of me.

          “It sounds like fun!” I said. “You should do it!”

          They started working on details, and I turned around to Ignazio, who was writing something down on a notepad.

          “What are you doing?” I asked him.

          “I am playing around with some lyrics for our song about Italy,” he said.

          “Can I see?”

          He handed me the notepad.

          I made a face.

          “Aw, they’re in Italian!”