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  My eyes almost pop out of my head. "What for? You know you can't drink alcohol here till you’re twenty-one, right?"

  "Sure, but they can drive a car at sixteen and buy a gun at eighteen and everyone uses a fake ID, anyway. I prefer to know that if you want a beer you can just open the refrigerator, without having to break the law. You know how I feel about drink-driving, and that doesn't change because you're here in the States. And all this booze will earn me points with your friends." I laugh. He's chosen three bottles of red and three of white. He grabs a bottle of Bailey's, then a bottle of vodka and one of tequila. "Take it easy with these, please. Don't make me regret sending you here without a chaperone."

  I hug him tight and lean my head against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "I promise I'll make you proud of me."

  He lifts my chin and wipes away the tear that’s sliding down my cheek. "I'm already proud of you, sweetheart. You're following your mother's advice and she'd be on cloud nine if she could see you. You always make us proud."

  A second and a third tear slide down my face. Sometimes he talks about my mother as if she were still alive and it brings a lump to my throat.

  We spend another two hundred dollars and I feel a little guilty because he's spent a fortune already this month, what with the car, rent, books, flights, GPS navigator, and shopping. Fortunately, the world is full of women who want boob-jobs and nose-jobs, plus other disgusting things I prefer not to think about.

  We turn into the driveway and I immediately spot Ben, shirtless, leaning against the open hood of his car.

  As I park the front door flies open and Jessica, Mark, and Erika come running out, almost pushing each other.

  "Wow, Cat! It's amazing!" squeals Jess, walking around the car, taking a better look.

  It sure is. Even Ben walks over, pulling a t-shirt from the back pocket of his jeans and slipping it on. I catch my father's pleased expression. Mark is still half naked, obviously. I wonder if he's been home to freshen up yet. It's almost four in the afternoon and he's still dressed – or undressed – like he was this morning.

  "Guys, give us a hand to take the shopping in, will you?"

  Everyone follows my dad and when they see the beers they look so excited they're almost afraid to touch them. My dad says nothing, he just passes a bag of groceries to Mark then hands him two six-packs of Corona. He does the same with Ben, who's looking more and more uncomfortable.

  "Put some in the refrigerator or they'll be too warm by the time we eat."

  I can't help smiling. My father loves being around young people. He's always thrown awesome parties for me and is always the first to have a good time...and the last to go to bed.

  He's giving out orders as if he were at home and I head for the kitchen, following Ben.

  Mark places the bottles carefully on the floor then turns to me and whispers, "Are these for us?"

  "Of course," I whisper back.

  Ben smiles. "You're full of surprises, aren’t you?!"

  I blush lightly and put the six-packs down next to the others.

  My dad arrives with four grocery bags, Jessica trotting behind him like a little puppy, almost wagging her tail. "There's still some things to bring in, Cate. Careful with that wine, please."

  I walk toward my car and see Mark standing by the open door of the trunk, staring down at the bag containing the vodka and tequila.

  "Where's the trap?" he asks suspiciously.

  "What do you mean?" I grab the bags of precious alcohol.

  "Is this some kind of test?" He folds his arms across his chest, in a 'can't fool me' attitude.

  I laugh and roll my eyes. "There's no test. My dad’s like that, as long as we drink at home and responsibly, there's no problem."

  Ben sees the grocery bag in my arms and takes it gently from me, his cold fingers brushing against my wrist. It's seventy-degrees outside and the sun is beating down, but a shiver runs down my spine. I don't ask why he's taken the bag, I just let him and clear my throat.

  "Mark, pass me that other bag and take those two inside."

  Mark nods and does as his brother tells him.

  We take everything indoors where Jessica and Erika are busy putting everything away. My father has really exaggerated. There must be at least sixteen packs of pasta. What are we going to do with all this stuff?

  "Dr. Zanetti," Erika says. "Thanks for the groceries, but it's only right we split the bill with you. We always split everything equally, we have a kitty, so how much do we owe you?"

  He smiles and shakes his head. "You don't owe me anything. Save it for a rainy day. And please, call me Luca."

  "But you spent so much!" Jessica protests.

  "Nonsense. Enjoy it while I'm here, I'm leaving in a week."

  "Thanks, er, Luca," Mark says.

  My father throws him a dark look, but I know he's only joking. Mark falls for it anyway. "Only the girls can call me Luca. To you and your brother, I'm still Doctor Zanetti." Mark freezes. His mouth opens wide in shock, which makes me laugh, which makes my dad laugh. "I'm joking," he adds, giving him a loud pat on the shoulder.

  Ben watches from the side, putting the groceries away as Jessica hands him packets of chips, snacks, cereals, tuna, salt, and oil. He's so tall he doesn't need the stepladder to reach the top shelf.

  We're almost done and there are twelve beers in the cooler because my dad wants an appetizer before dinner. A long one, apparently.

  "Whose is the black Mustang outside?" His gaze falls on Ben who rigidly snaps to attention.

  "Mine."

  "It's spectacular. An '88 GT Cobra, right?"

  Ben's eyes light up and I wrinkle my nose. What on earth does my father know about cars? It's an old wreck. My dad drives an eighty-thousand euro Mercedes, why is he a car expert all of a sudden?

  "Yes, sir. It was my uncle's when he was in high school," Ben responds proudly.

  Erika walks past and nudges me with her elbow. Probably to make me change expressions as it looks as if I'm about to throw up.

  "What's wrong with it?" my father asks as he opens a bag of chips and pops a couple in his mouth before leaving the open bag on the table.

  "One of the spark plugs keeps burning out and I can't figure out where it's making contact."

  "Can I see?"

  By now I'm laughing like an idiot. What is he talking about? He doesn't know a thing about spark plugs.

  Everyone turns to stare at me. They don't know my father, but I do and I really can't see him getting his hands dirty, getting grease on his Prada moccasins. My father, Mr. Suit and Tie? Please!

  "They're women," my dad says to Ben with a wink. "They don't understand."

  Ben starts chatting to my father as they head for the front door.

  "Ben, please slow down. My English is terrible, I don't understand a word."

  Ben says something, but I can’t make it out, they're already outside.

  "Would anyone like to go for a ride in my car? We could pick up some ice cream."

  "Yeah! Let's go!" Erika is already at the door and Jessica follows her.

  "Give me two minutes while I get changed."

  "Wait for me, I'm coming, too. I'll just take a quick shower." Mark sounds like a little kid, the little brother who always gets left behind.

  We each go to our rooms and I pop my head out the window to check on my father and Ben. They're chatting animatedly by the hood of the car. My dad takes his shirt off, revealing a white tank top underneath. I grab my phone, take a picture, and send it to my aunt, my dad’s sister.

  CATERINA: Dad's gone crazy! The heat’s gone to his head and he thinks he's a consultant...for American sports cars! He's literally harassing my neighbor!

  Now they both have their heads under the hood and I smile. I think my dad would like it, living here. My friends wouldn't mind having someone around to keep them in alcohol either.

  My aunt answers after a few seconds.

  AUNT LARA: Your father, no comment! Ten out of
ten for your neighbor! ;-)

  Oh, yeah!

  Ben lifts his head from under the hood and glances toward my room. I don't know if he can see me, hopefully I’m shielded by the thick screen. A small smile appears on his lips and my stomach performs a double-pike with perfect landing.

  Instinctively I text Leonardo. I've been so busy with my new American Adventure I haven't had time to call him today.

  CATERINA: Ciao, honey. This is my new number. You asleep?

  LEONARDO: Ciao, Tata! I was waiting to hear from you before going to bed. FaceTime?

  CATERINA: OK!

  I close my bedroom door and sit cross-legged on the bed. The screen lights up and Leo's handsome face appears. Tanned and happy, he grins, immediately eliminating the six hour time difference.

  "Hey," I sigh softly, a little embarrassed.

  "Ciao, Tata. How are you?" His voice is low and sounds uneasy.

  We've been together for almost four years but suddenly everything seems so strange. I know every inch of his body and he could draw mine from memory, yet...

  "I'm good, still a little disoriented. I bought a car today! I'm now the proud owner of a 2001 Jeep Wrangler," I reply proudly. "I'll send you a picture." I play around with my camera and one second later, the photo arrives.

  Once again, modern technology has the power to swallow up a six hour time difference.

  "It's cute, but I prefer your Golf."

  Of course he does, Earl Leonardo Maria Ranieri the Third, the son of Europe's most famous heart-surgeon, wouldn't be seen dead driving a rusty old used car. For him it's BMW, Audi, or nothing.

  I don't know why, but his tone annoys me. Let's face it, forty-eight hours ago I would have turned my nose up at driving such a timeworn car, too. After all, I did receive a brand new Volkswagen with leather interiors and all available options on the market for my eighteenth birthday.

  I know I'm being hypocritical, but it annoys me anyway.

  "Well, I love it! Hey, Dad's cooking dinner for my roomies tonight." And the Carter boys… another omission, to avoid problems. "He's done so much shopping we'll have enough food for six months."

  He laughs. He knows my father well, even if they don't really get along. I don't know why, I think it's because my dad’s not happy about his daughter sleeping with a man. Any man. And they don’t have much in common either.

  Leonardo likes soccer, my father likes any sport except soccer. He hates smoking, and Leonardo, who's still only nineteen, already smokes too much. The list is endless. Apart from me, the only thing they have in common is golf.

  I look up and see my dad laughing with Ben on the other side of the driveway and wonder what they're talking about.

  "I only have a couple of minutes. I'm going to the market with the girls to get ice cream." Yeah, yeah, another white lie.

  My bedroom door opens slowly and Mark's blond head peeps around the door frame. I stare at him for a second then, without being seen by Leonardo, I motion for my uninvited guest to wait, which Mark obviously interprets as an invitation to come in. He's already figured out I'm talking with a guy and his amused grin makes me freeze. He's going to make me fight with Leo.

  He silently flops down on the bed in front of me, then pinches my big toe between his thumb and forefinger, making me jump.

  Leonardo is still talking but I've lost track of what he's saying. Without taking my eyes off the screen, I move my hand behind my phone, away from the camera, and warn Mark to stop, all the while nodding like a fool. He laughs silently and traces a finger along my leg, from my foot to my knee.

  I jump and let out a yelp. Mark covers his mouth with both hands and buries his face in the mattress so no one can hear his hysterical laughter.

  "What's going on?" Leo asks, annoyed because I interrupted him while he was talking about...something.

  "Sorry, spider on the bed."

  I aim a kick at Mark and move to a safe distance, back against the headboard. He crawls toward me across the bed until his head is resting on my left knee. My legs are curled under me and I try not to look at him while he makes a baby face. The laughter grows inside me, I'm going to explode. He pretends to wipe away a tear and rubs his eyes against my knee.

  He's such a jerk.

  He grabs onto my leg, pulling it tight, stretching it toward him. I try to aim another kick, all the time biting my tongue so I don't laugh, my eyes glued to the screen, trying to catch something of what Leo's saying. Fortunately, Leo isn't the kind of guy who asks questions...he could go on for hours, telling you what he thinks, never once asking anyone else's opinion. I usually find it annoying, but today I'm grateful.

  Mark pops his thumb into his mouth and continues to cling onto me like a sloth until, while trying to kick him off, I kick him between the legs and he jumps. For an instant, I feel him stiffen as my foot touches his...crotch.

  WTF?

  My eyes open wide and Mark buries his face in the mattress again, this time unable to hide his laughter and I'm forced to cough loudly to cover the noise. I don't move and, fortunately, neither does he.

  I only catch the last sentence of Leonardo's speech: apparently, Marco and Alessandro have had a fight with Francesco and now they're missing the fifth person for five-a-side-soccer. First world problems.

  What on earth has gotten in to me? He's my boyfriend and he's just being his usual self.

  I cut him short. "Amore, the girls are ready now, I really have to go. Speak to you tomorrow?"

  "Sure, Tata, perhaps a little earlier though." He winks at me then lowers his gaze. "I miss you so much, you know?” he says, his voice short. "I've been in a bad mood all day."

  My chest tightens and I tell him I miss him, too, but I immediately feel guilty. I don't know whether it's all the new, exciting things in my life, but I've hardly thought of him all day.

  We say goodbye, and when I'm sure the call has ended, I hit Mark with a pillow.

  "Are you crazy? That's my boyfriend, you want to get me killed?" Still holding the pillow, I hit him twice over the head.

  "I thought you were angry about my er, stuffy," he confesses and bursts out laughing, leaping off the bed before I can hit him again. "Hey, Cat, you should feel special now. I never usually get hard just because someone touches me like that."

  "You're disgusting!" I exclaim. I jump down off the bed and stick my head in the closet. Jesus, I hate how he makes me laugh when I should really get mad. "I'm going to tell my father what just happened, see if he thinks I'm special."

  I grab a pair of shorts and shoo him out.

  "Cat, babe, I think we're past the stage where I have to leave the room while you change. I saw you wiggling around in your red micro-thong last night and I memorized every inch of your firm little ass."

  My face turns burgundy. "You're such an asshole," I hiss angrily, then add, despite myself, "and it was pink, not red." And I laugh.

  This guy is trouble.

  He moves in close, still laughing and kisses me loudly on the forehead. "I'm off to piss Erika off now. Hurry up!"

  So, I find myself thinking about Mark and how silly he is, and forget all about Leonardo.

  We come skipping out of the house.

  "Papà, we're off to buy ice creeeeeeeam!" I yell, not very ladylike, from one driveway to the other.

  "Cate, come here a second, please." I look down at my feet and huff. Now what? He always wants something.

  As soon as I'm close enough for him not to have to shout – he’s too well-mannered for that – he freezes me with a glare. "One: those shorts are a little too short, two: drive carefully, and three: can you bring us a beer please? And some chips..."

  Really?

  "Are you serious?"

  "Would you like me to send you to your room to get changed, right now, in front of your new friends?" He's not kidding.

  I roll my eyes and walk back to the house. I take two bottles of Bud from the refrigerator, open them, and grab the bag of chips.

  My friends, alrea
dy in the car, are watching with their mouths open, but it's the look on Ben's face that makes my hands shake. He looks first at his brother, then at his car, then at his brother again, and when he realizes that one of the beers is for him, he doesn't know which way to turn.

  "Your beer, master..." I hand one beer to my father and bow theatrically, then pass the other one to Ben.

  He stares at my outstretched hand but doesn't move an inch. Perhaps, like his brother, he thinks this is some kind of test. I take another step forward and, a little hesitant, he finally takes the bottle. His eyes meet mine and it's the first time he's looked at me for more than two seconds without looking away. He smirks and I feel like telling him that I may be my father's waitress but I'm not his and he'd better not get used to being treated like this.

  "Thanks, sweetheart. You are sweetness personified!" my father teases me in Italian, grinning sarcastically.

  Ben stares at me in silence then, thinking he's being funny, says, "Whatever he said, I totally agree."

  I open my eyes wide and quickly shake my head, hoping to make him feel awkward.

  He stiffens when my father joins in. "Ben! How dare you? That's my little girl!"

  His face turns purple and I’m enjoying the show until my father tells him he's only joking, then, feeling smug, I walk over to my car.

  With my dad at my side I feel invincible.

  As soon as we turn the corner, Mark turns the volume up on the stereo. He's sitting beside me, looking devilishly handsome in his mirrored Ray-Bans. In the back seat, the girls are singing along to Taylor Swift's “I Knew You Were Trouble”, moving in time to the beat. As I struggle to change to fourth gear, Mark springs upright in his seat and lowers the volume.

  "You can drive stick?" he almost screams in my face. I stiffen and nod. Now what have I done? "God, Cat! You're making me hard again!"

  Joining in with the disgusted moans coming from the back seat, I punch him lightly in the ribs and concentrate on my driving again.

  "Eugh, Mark. You're so gross!" Jessica is the first to speak and she, too, hits him, on the shoulder.