𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒

Pretty girls make graves

COSTA SMERALDA, SARDINIA, ITALY
3 Weeks later, July
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The summer sun warmed my wet body as the soft sound of the waves caressed my ears.

"Can I die on this beach?", Diana whispered.

"Can I live here forever, instead?", Alessia said.

"I'm okay with both of them", I murmured. I rolled on one side and opened my eyes timidly. My friends were immersed in the light of the afternoon. We were laying on the sand in our wet bikinis, trying to capture every single ray of sunshine.

I knew Alessia, Diana and Martina since high school and, even though we had chosen different paths after graduation, we never lost sight of each other. Every time we were together, it still felt like we saw each other at school every single day. They were the kind of people you want to talk with about politics and art but also about dicks and make up. Being with them was refreshing, like coming back home. My real home.

"Look at that cloud, it looks like a wave", Diana pointed it out at the sky. "You can surf on it."

"A what? More like a penguin", Alessia replied, taking off her sunglasses.

"Like, how? How do you see a penguin when I see a wave?"

"Listen, I'm not poetic like you"

I glanced at Martina and my laugh soon died on my lips. She stayed quiet with her big sunglasses covering most of her face. Second day we were in Sardinia she said she wanted to leave. She wanted to go back home, the only place she felt comfortable in. She was fighting against depression since last year. She didn't know what I would do to make her feel better. But I knew that wasn't up to anyone but her.

"Want to swim a bit?", Alessia asked.

"I'll stay here", I said, my eyes still on Martina. "I need to work on my tan."

Me and Martina stayed alone on the sand as I watched Alessia and Diana running to the sea. I heard my friends' laughter mixed with the sound of the waves and the distant noise of the people already in the water. The sun touched the sea, making it sparkle and I glanced away from it before burning my eyes.

"So how are you?", my friend asked me.

I looked at her. "I'm good. How are you?"

"Good."

I waited for her to speak more, but after a couple of minutes I tried to ask: "You still want to leave?"

She didn't respond immediately. I wished I could see her eyes behind her sunglasses.

"Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't", she finally said.

"What about now?"

"Now I want to stay"

I smiled softly. "I'm glad you do."

She didn't reply and she didn't smile. I got on my elbow, cupping my cheek in my palm, staring at her until she glanced at me awkwardly and we both laughed.

"What about that guy?", she then asked me.

"What guy?", I teased.

"Oh, you know too well", she rolled her eyes. "The one that looks like a drug dealer. The Golden Penis. The alien from the 1979 or some other year."

That wearing skirt, sad eyes, curly man who took all of my attention. That mouth full of big words and crooked teeth I wished could bite me, one by one. Those Marlboro flavored sighs I missed on my skin.