CRAVING U (The Rook Café) (26 page)

THE BEAUTIFUL LIONORA

“Marika!”  Mr. Crispi’s squeaky voice wafted over the student in the
third row like a distant sound, seeing as how she was busy daydreaming, her
chin propped up solidly by her elbows.  “Vendramini, are you there?  Anyone
home?”

“Huh?”  She
jumped at the sight of her teacher’s face right in front of hers.

“Would you like
to say something about the legal structure of different types of commercial
enterprises in Italy?”

“Um, no, sorry.” 
She lowered her chin and batted her eyelashes while she excused herself.  “I
was daydreaming.”

“I noticed.”  The
teacher headed back to his desk.  “OK everyone, let’s start over from where
your classmate interrupted us.”  Opening his book to a dog-eared page, he added
gratuitously, “Try to pay attention, Vendramini, because I’m quizzing you on
Monday.”

“
Perfect! 
Another weekend ruined by a moment’s distraction
,” Marika’s rational side
accused.  “
But how hot was he last night?
” replied her primitive side,
all impulsiveness and passion.

Luckily, the bell
rang before her fantasy world forced her to be given even more homework.  Her
burning desire was almost uncontrollable; her eyes were smoldering, her smile
impish, and even her clothes were suddenly casual-glam, the antithesis of her
usual sporty look.  Her mother had followed her all the way down the walk to
the street telling her that this was no way to dress for school: skinny jeans
tucked into brown leather boots, a gray t-shirt, and a keffiyeh from the French
fashion house Balenciaga tied loosely around her neck.  Her hair was hanging
down – itself a rare sight on a school day – and straightened, and her makeup
was a touch heavier than usual.

At that moment,
Dario was busy thanking Matteo.  “I really appreciate you giving me a ride!” 
Parked on the opposite side of the street from the school entrance, they were
waiting patiently for the girls to exit.  “With the Mini in the shop, Carlotta
keeps complaining to no end about having to walk
....
”  Dario was hammering away with chit-chat
in rhythm with the pounding drum machine sounds of bass, timpani, tom-toms,
hi-hat, snare, and cymbals on the radio.  “Since we’re here, why don’t we give
Marika a ride home too?”

“Seriously?”
Matteo said, stretching out his back.  “I love you, man, but I’m not actually
here because your girlfriend gets on your case about having to take the bus.” 
He looked him in the eyes to make himself clear: “I’m here for her.”

Classes were over
for the day, and there were only a few teachers left attending a meeting about
the end of the grading period.  “There they are!”  Dario hit the automatic
locks and leaned over to honk the horn to get their attention.

“Wait!”  Matteo
stopped him.  “We’re not the only one who had this brilliant idea.  Look,” he
said, pointing in the direction of a guy getting out of a black Ford Fiesta
with a smile on his face.  “I can’t believe it!” he groaned, slamming the door
shut.

His friend
followed his angry gaze.  “Brunelli!”  He too closed his door and slouched back
into his seat.  “What’s
he
want?”

“He wants Marika,”
Matteo growled.  “That’s what he wants.”

In silence, they
observed the surprise on the girls’ faces and the subsequent pantomime of who
got to sit next to Federico in the front seat.  “
Hypocrites!
” Matteo
hissed as he watched the driver make room in the back seat of the hatchback.  “Let’s
get the hell out of here.  Looks like they’ve already found a ride home.”  He
ground his Alfa into first gear and pulled quickly out ahead of the others.

Inside the
Fiesta, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment hung in the air.  The first to
speak was, obviously, Carlotta.  “Federico, I heard you guys won the
competition at
The Dark Crow
, that’s awesome!”  She wedged herself
between the two front seats so as not to feel left out.  “I want your autograph
before you get on MTV.”

“I wish!”  He was
flattered, but not at all full of himself.  “If you want, I can let you hear
the demo we recorded yesterday.  The CD is there inside the glove compartment,”
he said with such confidence that Marika was absolutely blown away.

She politely did
as he asked.  There amid the car registration, some road maps, a copy of
Rolling
Stone
, and three well-ordered stacks of jewel cases, there was a
single CD that was out of place.  She took it and read on the cover:

S in S “Scream
in the Silence”
– DEMO, March

Before she knew
it, the disc was already being swallowed up by the CD player.  “Thanks,” he
said, accidentally brushing her fingers as he took it from her.

“Thank you for
the surprise visit.”  The contact with those unknown hands created no
embarrassment for Marika; she felt quite calm and relaxed.  “And for the ride! 
I couldn’t stand another second with her,” she complained, alluding to
Carlotta.

“I don’t like
having to ride the bus,” her cousin defended herself from the back, where she
was chomping on a piece of strawberry chewing gum.  “They’re crowded and at
every stop I get someone’s backpack shoved into my face,” she said sullenly,
her arms crossed over her chest.  “I mean, did that idiot really have to take
his car into the shop at the exact same moment that your parents took away your
scooter
and
my scooter finally gave up the ghost?”  Marika was still
being grounded for not having come home at her curfew on Saturday night, the
night of the concert at
The Dark Crow
.

“I doubt he chose
this moment to get his car fixed just so you could get knocked about by
backpacks and elbows on the bus,” Federico said, instinctively defending the
male race by making light of it.

“That’s right,
don’t listen to her Federico.  You should see how she treats the poor guy!” 
Marika got in on the joke.  “She’s more demanding than a prima donna, trust me.” 

The music took
over everyone’s attention.  “Wow, this song is amazing.  And the lyrics are
fabulous: who wrote them?”

“Me and Eve,” he
replied excitedly.

“Incredible!” 
She was amazed by their talent.  “You two are really great.”

“Eve is
especially fabulous,” came Carlotta’s voice from the back seat.  “She’s got an
incredible voice, not to mention that body!  I was about to kill Dario on
Saturday from the way he was looking at her,” she added.  “You two seem to have
a lot of chemistry
....
”  She leaned in again.  “Are you a couple?”

Federico’s face
tightened slightly.  “No.”

She insisted.  “Really?”

“Come on,
Carlotta, knock it off!”  Marika turned around and gave her a dirty look.  “It’s
none of your business.”

“It’s no big
deal, I got nothing to hide.”  He brushed Marika’s hand as if to disarm her.  “We
were together for a few months last year.  We’ve got a lot of things in common,
but there was no chemistry, no magic.”

“I see,” Carlotta
nodded.  “It won’t be easy to find another one like her, though,” she jabbed.

“I don’t want
another one like her.  I don’t even want someone who looks like her.”  He
deliberately turned his eyes toward Marika.

“This song is
really awesome...” she said, swallowing nervously and hoping to change the
subject brought up by her nosy cousin.  “What’s the next step for the band?” 
She moved the conversation in a more innocuous and decidedly less personal
direction.

“We’re doing a
series of live shows in the area to give our music some publicity.”  He turned
onto the freeway.  “And we’re doing everything we can through social media and
our blog to raise our profile.”

“Do you have a
website?”  Carlotta asked, following her cousin’s lead.

“Sort of.  It’s
more of an open space for creative ideas with a blog, concert information,
photos, and comments, but more than anything else, it’s got music, videos,
streams... it’s all integrated with Twitter for our followers.”

“What’s
happening?” the two girls tweeted at once.

Time stood still
inside the car, as the conversation accelerated and decelerated to the rhythm
of the vehicle and questions about music, movies, sports, and school, all
interspaced with directions about how to get home to Orgiano.

The first stop
was Carlotta’s, who took her leave by placing a kiss on his cheek and promising
to see him again soon.  Then it was Marika’s turn, who had him stop 100 yards
before her house.  “Thanks for the ride.”  She smiled delicately and innocently
at Federico as she got out of the Ford.

“My pleasure.” 
As the car door closed, he added, “I hope I wasn’t out of line just showing up
that way at your school without an invitation.”

“You kidding?” 
She leaned through the window, her face bright and her hair blowing about in
the wind.  “It was so thoughtful of you,” she winked, “and just in the nick of
time.”

“So there’s hope
that you might call me one of these days?” he said, striking while the iron was
hot.

“You can always
call me!” 
Something totally normal between friends: no harm in that!
  “You’ve
got my number.”

“Careful!”  He
got out and walked quickly around the car to get next to her.  “I just might
take you up on that.”

A little comment
like that from him, and all of her bravado melted away into a mess of hemming
and hawing.  “Yeah... ummm... right.”

“One more thing,
if you don’t mind my asking.  Why did you get grounded?”

“It’s my parents...
they’re total sticklers.”  She shrugged.  “They’re pissed because I came in
late on Saturday night.”

“Sorry about
that.”  He felt partially responsible.

“For what?  I had
a great time.”  Her words were dripping with sweetness.  “I’m almost 18... they’ll
have to get used to it.”  She lifted herself up onto her tiptoes to give him a
quick kiss, but felt herself being wrapped up unexpectedly in his arms.  She
blushed deeply.

Federico held her
against his body for a moment, enjoying her spontaneous reaction.  No filters,
no censorship.  “See you soon.”

“OK
....
”  She spun
around, disoriented, trying to locate the direction toward her house.  “See you
soon.”  She walked off, slightly off balance, as if her equilibrium was gone
without him.

***

Matteo’s departure for Milan was in two weeks, and Marika was gladly
avoiding
The Rook
, preferring the re-runs of her favorite TV series, and
The Voice
, to that torture.  But unfortunately, the torment was inside
of her, and there was no point in denying it.  It screamed out the same name
over and over again; even accepting Federico’s friendship, which felt so
familiar and reassuring, seemed like some sort of absurd form of cheating on
Matteo... like the doorway to a new beginning... turning the page on the past,
even if in truth she and Matteo were not now nor had they ever been a couple. 
Even though he was seeing another girl and had never, ever tried to hit on her.
Even that moment in the car when he had wanted to kiss her no longer had any
power over her fantasies.

Their crew of
friends had become boringly fixated on a single topic:
San Carlo
. 
Online and through their cellphones they were constantly sharing images and
clips from
San Carlo
and the Milan nightlife, all starring sexy soccer
players and supermodels.

In order to avoid
that media whirlwind, Marika had accepted Carlotta’s constant presence at her
side during those days, even though her cousin always insisted on flinging the
lover’s arrow that she had stolen from Cupid.  Carlotta’s well-oiled engine
worked like this: she nagged Marika, Marika called Federico, Federico drove 40
miles from Marostica to Orgiano just to spend a couple of hours together. 
Romantic?
 
Absolutely. 
Fair?
  She had such an unconfessed need to see him that she
egotistically avoided answering that question.

Almost every
afternoon after school, the three of them would meet up in the hills above
Lonigo, near the
Rocca Pisana
, a villa designed by Vincenzo Scamozzi in
1576 for a powerful scion of the Pisani family from Venice: an ingenious and
elegant reworking of Palladio’s
Rotonda
, with a square floor plan,
octagonal cupola with a central opening, pediment, neoclassical recessed
portico, and columned loggia, from which one had a wonderful view of the town
below.

It was Federico
himself, who was in his last year of high school and had a particular passion
for art history, who had unveiled all of the treasures of the area she had been
born and raised in but knew nothing about; like the
Fracanzan Piovene
Villa, a historic building in Orgiano with a 100-acre park.  It was always a
pleasure to spend time with him, because he knew how to listen without
interrupting, or how to explain without showing off; in his company, she could
even put up with entire afternoons dedicated to rants by Carlotta about her
stick-in-the-mud boyfriend and his puny physique.