Mia's Heart (The Paradise Diaries) (16 page)

As
I look around the table, at the laughing and friendly faces of my friends, I’m
beginning to realize that my life is pretty good right now.  I might not
know what I want, but I’m pretty sure that I don’t want anything to change.

At
all. 

And
I know that my memories have the potential to change everything. 

Chapter
Fourteen

My
bedroom has a private balcony. I think all of the bedrooms here at Giliberti
House do.  I’m sitting on mine tonight, alone, under the dark sky filled
with twinkling stars.  The night air is cool and it brushes over my skin
softly, like tropical velvet fingers.

And
I’m feeling nostalgic and poetic. 

I
don’t know why.

There
is a book lying open in my lap. It feels good to lose myself in someone else’s
world tonight, someone else’s fictional drama.  Because my own drama is
too real and raw. 

There
is a knock on my bedroom door, soft and light.  And before I can call out,
the door opens and Reece is there. She’s wearing pajamas and holding a small
box. 

“I
brought you something,” she announces as she crosses my room and joins me on
the balcony.  “You love these.  They’re good for anything that ails
you.  You bought them for me when I was here this summer.”

She
thrusts the box into my hands and I peer inside.

Tiny
chocolate volcanoes sit amidst tissue. 

I
raise an eyebrow. 

“Chocolate
therapy?”

“Is
there a better kind?” she tosses back. 

“Excellent
point,” I answer.  I pop one into my mouth and then I almost melt into my
seat. “Oh my gosh.  Yummo.”

Reece
looks satisfied.  “Right?  I braved the scary gypsy lady for
you.  That’s how much I love you.”

“Scary
gypsy lady?”  This intrigues me.  Reece sighs. 

“The
woman in town who sells these is terrifying,” she tells me.  “You laugh
about her, but she’s got these cloudy eyes that see right through a
person.  And she always mutters vague things about people, as if she can
see our future.  Last time I was here, she told me that I was strong
enough to handle anything.  It was like she knew what was going on in my
life.  It was creepy.”

“Were
you?” I ask.  “Strong enough?”

Reece
looks at me, gorgeous in her blonde, girl-next-door way.  She finally
nods. 

“Yes. 
I was.  And I am.  It’s something I learned while I was here. 
Everyone is strong enough.  Sometimes, they just don’t know it. 
You’re strong enough too.”

“You’re
very profound, you know that?” I nudge her jokingly.  But honestly, I’m
not joking.  Reece has given me some pretty good advice so far.

I
look at her.  “So, I guess my best friend is a sage, then.”

She
laughs.  “I don’t know about that.  But you’ve never steered me
wrong, either, so I guess we’re good for each other.”

I
offer her a chocolate. 

“Thank
you for being my friend,” I tell her sincerely.  “Thank you for sticking
with me even when I don’t remember how good of a friend you actually are.”

Reece
looks at me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads.

“Seriously? 
That’s what friends do.  You would do the same for me.”

I
honestly hope that is true, that I’m a good enough person for that. 

We
lean back onto our chairs and stare at the stars.  Reece wraps her sweater
more tightly around her and then pulls something from her pocket.

“I
almost forgot,” she tells me.  She hands it to me.   

A
picture in a silver frame.

It’s
Dante, Gavin and me, and we’re standing in front of the sea.  Sunshine
bathes our bare shoulders and we’re wearing swimsuits.  I have blue and
green stripes in my dark hair, an interesting, peacock-like combination. 
It’s clear that we are having a good time because we’re all laughing. 
It’s a candid shot, not posed.  Gavin’s eyes are twinkling and he’s
bending toward me.  Dante is laughing at us. 

And
I wish I could remember the joke.

But
I don’t.

Reece
watches me and I feel my lips curve into a smile, simply from the happy expression
on my face in the picture.

It
makes me feel warm inside.   

“Dante
had this, so I had a copy made for you and framed.  It was from a beach
party this past summer.  I love it.  In fact, I love it so much that
I had a copy made for me, too.”

“Thank
you,” I tell her sincerely.  “Very much.  It’s like you’ve handed me
a piece of my life, like I have a glimpse of who I was through this
picture.  I love it.”

Tears
well up in my eyes and I don’t know why.  I wipe at them impatiently.

Reece
looks at me sympathetically. 

“It’s
okay to be upset,” she tells me.  “Anyone would be.  And you’re
handling it so much better than most people would.  Cut yourself some
slack, Mi.”

And
her words make me cry.

It’s
like the barrier that I’ve built around myself lately crumbles down and I gulp
at the air, sucking at it like a fish on a sidewalk as I heave in wracking
sobs. 

At
first Reece is shocked, then she grabs me and pulls me to her.  She pats
my back and murmurs soothingly to me as I cry.  And surprisingly, it feels
good.  When I’m finally finished and I’m lying in Reece’s lap, I feel
cleansed.  It’s like my tears washed my anxiety away. 

At
least, temporarily. 

And
I decide that if Gavin was right and I never cry, I might change that.  A
good cry every once in a while might be a good thing.  A cleansing
thing. 

But
I do feel bad for falling apart on Reece. 

“I’m
sorry,” I tell her.  “I didn’t mean to fall apart on you.”

She
rolls her eyes.  “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen apart on
you?  Trust me, I owe you a few breakdowns.”

I
smile and nod like I know, even though we both know that I don’t. 

“You
know what you need?” Reece asks.  “You need some ice cream. With fudge and
marshmallows.  And then a bubble bath.  Come on.”

I
follow her from my bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. There’s a
soft nightlight shining in there, like a golden beacon.  I love this
kitchen.  It’s warm and cozy, definitely a room where a family
thrives.  I don’t know why I’m drawn to it like I am.  But it
practically feels like the pulse of this large house beats from this
room. 

Reece
pulls things from the cupboard and drags a couple kinds of ice cream from a
large freezer. 

We
make two of the biggest ice cream sundaes in the history of the world and then
make our way out to the terrace.  We eat our ice cream curled up on
elaborate wrought iron chairs and surrounded by fragrant flowers. 

“I
love it here,” Reece tells me with a sigh. “Everything is so beautiful. 
I’m going to lobby hard to finish our senior year here.  We’re needed here
anyway.”

I
look at her, at my friend who seems to have such a big heart.  She’s
innocently licking her spoon when I hear a deep voice from behind me. 

Quinn.

“Is
this a party and I wasn’t invited?”

He
asks this as he saunters into the gardens.  I think he saunters
everywhere.  There’s simply no other way to describe the way he moves.
 It’s fluid and confident.

And
sexy.

“Nope,”
Reece tells him.  “But I guess it is now.  Isn’t it always a party
when you’re around?” She grins at him and their manner is relaxed and easy,
like two people who have grown up together, because that’s exactly who they
are.  They both have the same charming American accent and the same
friendly way about them.

“It’s
so strange that you guys didn’t end up together,” I tell them.  Reece
looks over at me, startled, while Quinn laughs. 

“Did
you hear that, Reecie?  I told you that we were perfect together.” 

He’s
kidding though and it is apparent.  They are relaxed and friendly, but
there is no sexual chemistry between them at and it’s hard to imagine that
there ever was.  Quinn nudges her shoulder, but he sits in the chair next
to me.  Something inside of me is happy about that, satisfied.  I can
smell him on the breeze, an outdoorsy man smell.  I like it.

Reece
rolls her eyes. 

“I
can’t date Quinn,” she tells me.  “Because we know everything about each
other.  For example, I know that he passed out when he was giving blood
last year.”  She laughs again and Quinn glowers at her. 

“For
the last time,” he tells her.  “The doctor said that there was a real
medical reason for that—a vaso-vagal nerve reflex or something.”

Reece
giggles.  “Whatever, little kittie,” she laughs. “Meow!”

I’m
staring at her, wondering why the heck my seemingly sane friend is meowing at
Quinn when she catches a glimpse of my face and laughs harder. 

“It’s
a nice way of calling him a pussy…cat.”  She tacks the last word on as an
afterthought.  And then I have to laugh.  Because the P-word coming
out of sweet little Reece’s mouth in any context just doesn’t seem right.

And
then I meow at Quinn too, just because it is funny to associate him with the
P-word in any way, shape or form.

So
that is how Dante finds us a few minutes later.

Reece
and I are leaned together, meowing at big, strong Quinn under the light of the
moon. We look like lunatics, I’m sure.  And we most certainly sound like
it.  But I don’t even care.  I grin up at Dante.

“Hey,
D,” I smile. 

Dante
smiles back, then startles. 

“D?”

I
look at him for a second, startled too, before I shrug.  “It’s probably
because I heard Elena call you that earlier.”

I’m
not sure, though.  It could be a memory.  I have no idea.  But
I’m distracted by listening to Reece complain about how Elena apparently calls
Dante “D” just to annoy her now, and then by listening to her lecture Quinn on
the fact that he needs to stay far, far away from Elena because she is a mean
witch who would probably eat kittens for breakfast if she could, raw and with
the fur still on.

They
both listen to her patiently.

And
then patiently ignore her. 

Apparently,
they’re accustomed to her funny little outbursts. 

Dante
wraps an arm around Reece’s shoulders and turns to me.

“Mia,
are you settling in all right?  Is your room okay?”

I
nod.  “I love my room and the balcony.  Thank you so much for letting
us stay here.”

Dante
waves his hand.  “I’m glad you’re here.  It’s like a party. 
Well, it would be if Gavin were here, too.”

Gavin.

Immediately,
thoughts of him flood my mind and I feel guilty for sitting here with Quinn and
I don’t know why.  Neither of them belong to me. And I don’t answer to
either of them.  Yet whenever I’m with one, I feel guilty about the
other.  I sigh.  My life is complicated.

Dante
is tugging at Reece.  “I think it’s time for bed,” he tells her. 
“We’ve had a long day and you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“That’s
because I’m jet-lagged,” she tells him, somewhat grumpily.  He smiles
patiently.

“I
know, little Sunflower,” he tells her. “And you get grumpy when you’re
jetlagged.  That’s why you should go to bed now.  You’ll feel better
in the morning.”

She
growls, but it is a harmless, delicate growl.  I give her a hug and tell
her good night and then they are gone.  Quinn and I are the only ones left
and I stare at him.

“So,
you really passed out when they took your blood?” I ask curiously.  I’m
trying to imagine this giant of a boy fainting.  His hands are so big that
it seems like he could palm my head if he wanted to.

He
grins ruefully.

“I
went down like a rock,” he admits.  “Does that ruin your macho image of
me?”  He’s still grinning, totally unconcerned.  He knows that it
doesn’t ruin anything for me.  If anything, it makes me like him even
more.

If
that is possible.

But
I tell him exactly the opposite. 

“Of
course it does,” I tell him laughingly.  “I’ll never look at you the
same.”

He
is unconcerned as he moves closer to me. I take a whiff of his shirt as he
leans in.  Big mistake, because now I can’t concentrate on what he is
telling me.  His man-smell has my hormones tap-dancing.

“Well,
do you want to?”

Quinn
is looking at me and I have no idea what he asked me. My attention was
distracted by my stupid tap-dancing hormones. 

“I
guess,” I tell him, secretly praying that I’m not agreeing to do something
horrible.