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  "What did I say?" he says defensively. "You've no idea what a turn-on it is when a woman drives stick."

  The girls groan again and this time it's Erika who aims a slap at Mark, who's grinning happily.

  The girls set the living room table with meticulous attention while the two boys sit at the kitchen table watching me and my father chop carrots, celery, and onions for the soffritto. My dad took a quick shower and now he's wearing a white t-shirt, which is a little tight, and I’m wondering if he borrowed it from Ben.

  "Tata, can you thinly slice the salame, for the aperitif?"

  I glare at him. He knows I hate it when he calls me Tata. Leonardo always calls me that and it took me forever to get used to it, so why's my dad using it now?

  "Papà!" I exclaim.

  "Sorry, sorry...I mean, Caterina."

  I drag what feels like thirty-five pounds of cold cuts from the refrigerator and set it creatively out on wooden chopping boards, the guys watching me all the time. The overall appearance is appealing but the prosciutto doesn't look too fresh. I wonder how long it was in the store because it’s decidedly anemic.

  My dad takes more beers from the refrigerator and opens them, then calls the girls into the kitchen. I open a pack of olive breadsticks and place them in a kind of vase, then cut the cheese into cubes and put everything on the table.

  "Cat, renting you that room was the best decision ever!" Erika exclaims, entering the kitchen and looking around in amazement.

  For two slices of salame and a bit of American Caciotta that looks like rubber? Then I catch the scent of my father's sauce which fills the kitchen and I realize she probably means that.

  "Well, we certainly don’t miss the girl who was here before you." Jessica smirks at Ben who instinctively looks down. Mark rolls his eyes then flashes her a dirty look.

  My dad hands the beers out and Mark looks at it curiously, holding it suspiciously, without raising it to his lips.

  "Doctor Zanetti, is this a test?" He straightens his back and looks challengingly at my father.

  "What do you mean?" my father asks distractedly, stirring the sauce.

  "All this beer...the wine, the liquor...if we drink it we fail the test and you take Cat away?"

  A thud comes from under the table and Mark lets out a loud, "Ouch!"

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to kick you so hard," Ben apologizes, without even looking at him and not at all sorry.

  We all laugh and my dad holds his beer up for a toast. I do the same and so do the others, everyone except Mark.

  "I don't give Caterina many rules but one, the most important, is never do anything stupid, like drink-driving or getting into a car with someone who's been drinking. One beer never killed anyone so, as long as you promise you'll respect this simple rule, you can keep all the alcohol I bought and I'll be quite happy to keep this a secret and turn a blind eye to the fact that you're all under age. Is that a deal?"

  Ben is the first to toast my father, who nods and smiles at him. I think my dad just became his hero.

  My heart thinks, 'Ah, look, your father and your future boyfriend', while my head screams, 'Shut up!' and as for my stomach...it doesn't say anything, it's too busy trying to tame the wildly fluttering butterflies.

  Jessica and Erika join in the toast and finally Mark, still in pain from Ben's kick, clinks his bottle against ours.

  "Don't worry, Luca, we'll take care of Cat while you're in Italy."

  My father glares at him and Mark chokes on his beer, which makes everyone laugh again.

  "Mark, you especially, need to stay far away from her," my father warns.

  "Impossible," he replies resolutely. "I'm going to marry her."

  Then his brother kicks him again.

  6

  Blondie's dad is really cool. We have a few problems understanding each other but, all things considered, it's great hanging with him.

  I'll admit it, I'm making it up as we go along, trying to figure out what's wrong with my car's engine, but he doesn't seem to have noticed. Every afternoon for the past three days, he stops by to see his daughter then, when they've finished their business, he pops a white tee and a pair of golf shorts on and comes over to see if I need a hand. How can I say no, when all I've wanted to do since I laid eyes on Blondie is try to impress her some way? Not to mention the fact that Luca has the beers and has promised to stock up on more before he leaves.

  "Papà…" Blondie walks over and hands her father two ice-cold Coronas. They start talking in Italian and I stand here, staring down at the engine of my old Mustang because if I turn and look at her she'll know how much that tiny bikini she wears every afternoon drives me crazy.

  Luca says something and they laugh as she walks away.

  Next semester, I’m signing up for fucking Italian class.

  "That girl is the Devil. She always gets her own way." Luca looks up at the sky and laughs.

  I smile, too, but I've no idea what to say. She can get her own way with me anytime she wants. "What did she say?"

  "We were supposed to play golf tomorrow, but now she says she has to go shopping with Erika. Apparently, it's a matter of life or death. So, to sweeten me up she brought us another beer." He smiles and passes me one.

  "Cat plays golf?" I ask.

  "Oh, yes and she's very good, but she doesn't like it. When we're on the course she pays more attention to that damned phone than to what's going on. Then she takes her club, swings, takes a perfect shot, then it's back to her texting." He wipes his greasy hands on a rag and takes a sip of his beer.

  Pretending to reach for a wrench, I look over at Cat. She's standing there, drinking Coke from a can, chatting with Mark and Erika, as they lie blissfully in the sun. She's so sexy it's killing me.

  "Do you play golf, Ben?"

  "No, I never got the hang of it. Mark's pretty good, though."

  "Cate's boyfriend is a phenomenon. I've never seen such a gifted kid. He's already won the national championships twice and last year, he finished second in the European Junior Championships. He has the concentration and technique of a champion. That boy will be famous one day."

  My stomach turns in on itself whenever he mentions Blondie's boyfriend. Why can't he be an idiot loser? It would be easier to get on Luca’s good side but, nooo, it's obvious that someone like Caterina Zanetti would only settle for an incredibly gifted boyfriend.

  "Have they been together long?" I ask casually, almost as if I couldn’t give a damn of the answer.

  "Almost four years," Luca sighs and I'm dying to ask why.

  "Don't you like him?" I ask, unable to stop myself.

  "Who? Leonardo? Yes, of course. He's a good kid." He hesitates a moment and I focus again on the engine. "It's just that…Caterina is too young to be with someone for four years already. But all that matters is that she's happy," he concludes.

  "I know what you mean. My longest relationship lasted two months." I pull a face. I can’t call my time with Maddy a relationship – she was a fucking liar and everything we did was a huge fucking lie.

  Luca chuckles and wipes his forehead with his t-shirt. "My longest relationship was with Cate's mother, my wife. I was twenty-six when I met her. Before then, well, let's just say, I enjoyed myself."

  I laugh, too, but I can't stop thinking that, for his daughter, I'd be more than willing to give up 'enjoying myself', if it meant being with her. I'd make sure she 'enjoyed herself' in ways that would turn her poor father's hair white.

  We work in silence for another hour, all the time watching my new neighbor out of the corner of my eye: that smile, that body that seems drawn by an artist. What's happening to me? Why does she have this power over me? I feel like a stupid kid with a mega-crush on the hottest girl in class. I take every chance to glance in her direction but I can barely find the courage to look at her. When she's in front of me, I turn into a wise ass know-it-all and look down on her, because it's easier to ignore her than to speak to her and risk making a fool of myself.


  7

  Saying goodbye to my dad was hard. When he left last night I felt as if I'd been abandoned. Everyone stood behind me, Jessica almost in tears at the sad look on my father's face. I know he was trying to tough it out, but he's a big softy and all heart.

  We clung on to each other for a good five minutes, while he told me over and over how proud he is of me, that he knows everything will be just fine…that I'll be fine…to be careful…not to worry…that I have a great group of friends who’ll take care of me…and he was right.

  As soon as he was gone, Mark, his eyes shiny with tears, put his arm around me and dragged me into the family room, the girls following close behind.

  All four of us piled onto the couch, all bunched up together, practically sitting in each other’s laps, eating gallons of ice cream, everyone taking turns to comfort me. Everyone except Ben, that is. He stood in the doorway without once coming close, and it would have been embarrassing if he had.

  The only affectionate gesture he made was to pat me on the shoulder and mumble something like, "Your father is cool, but you'll be okay here with us."

  I think he was sincere though. They were working together on his car all week while we sprawled out in the garden sunbathing and slapping Mark every time he made one of his stupid-ass jokes.

  I wipe away the tear that's sliding down my cheek and stare at my reflection in the mirror. It's the first day of college and I need to focus. Erika is coming with me in the car, the Engineering faculty is in the same building as mine and our schedule is more or less the same, which is an enormous relief because I feel like a fish out of water. I recognize Ben's car in the parking lot and instinctively look around for the Carter boys.

  A small group of people at the entrance catches my attention. Who's right there in the middle, acting the fool as he hangs on to a cute brunette wearing a decidedly low-cut top? Mark.

  He sees us and waves. Mondays and Wednesdays we have the first, second, and fourth classes together, so there's no chance of ever getting bored. He nods his head to indicate he'll see me inside, then mimes something that I hope means, 'save me a seat'.

  The corridors are bustling with kids my own age, quickly moving up and down. Everyone finds their locker and my heart is beating fast. I've never had a locker before. I feel invincible, but the feeling only lasts about ten minutes, when it evaporates in the worst possible way.

  "What are you doing here, Blondie?" Ben's urgent tone makes me jump and my perfectly laid out pencils roll onto the floor.

  What am I doing here? What's he doing here?

  The lecture hall door closes and everyone falls silent. A short, stocky professor enters the room and makes his way over to the desk. Shouldn't this be a woman?

  "Cat, you're in the wrong room," Ben hisses urgently as he takes the seat next to mine.

  What?

  I begin to panic and I'm about to stand up when he grabs my arm and pulls me down. "If you walk out now the professor will call you out and embarrass you. Mr. Fox is a sly bastard when he wants to be."

  "That's impossible," I mutter out of the side of my mouth. "It says room 101, I'm in room 101, Macroeconomics 2.0." My hands begin to shake and I want to cry.

  "No, this is Quantum Physics 3.0, Honors. Room 110, to be exact."

  Ben looks around and I see what he's thinking. There must be at least thirty of us in here, the professor will hardly notice an intruder: me. I hide behind the guy in front of me, almost pressing myself up against the desk. I feel sick, bile rising up from my stomach, my lungs tightening, leaving me breathless.

  I'm going to miss the first class of the first course of the first day of college. And Professor Fox will probably spot me and throw me out of his class.

  "What am I going to do now?" I think it's the first time we've ever spoke more than ten words to each other.

  "Relax." He pulls out his cell phone and quickly types in a message.

  "Who are you writing to?" I don't know why I'm asking, it's none of my business.

  "Mark, so he can get you marked present in class."

  I groan silently and slump down on the desk, my head in my hands. How on earth did I confuse 101 with 110? How stupid can I get?

  "Don't worry, Blondie. These things happen."

  I glare at him and he backs away a few inches.

  "Really? You're in the right class, Mark's in the right class, Jessica and Erika are in the right classes. Four out of five. It seems like the only one who's messed up here is me!"

  Ben laughs and pulls a new notebook from his bookbag. Where did I get the idea he's some bum who takes notes on greasy McDonald's napkins? This course is called Quantum Physics, Honors. Only students with the highest grades are admitted to honors classes. The guy must be some kind of genius.

  "You don't know for sure that Jessica and Erika are in the right class," he whispers, turning his attention to another text.

  Oh, great! I'm going to be the butt of everyone's jokes from now on. Mark will have a field day.

  "Hey, shit happens. This class only lasts an hour. Pretend you're taking notes and try not to get noticed."

  If I understood a word of what was being said, it wouldn’t be so bad. Professor Fox starts by explaining various graphs with variables whose symbols I've never even seen before.

  Next to me, Ben is extremely focused. He stares at the whiteboard, taking neat little notes in his notebook, nodding quietly every now and then, which means he understands everything the professor says.

  Goddamn genius.

  Every so often he turns and smiles at me. I pretend I'm taking notes, but really I have no idea of anything the professor is talking about.

  Professor Fox asks a question and Ben and a group of other guys raise their hands. Fox looks at me for an instant and I curl up under the desk trying to avoid eye contact.

  "Yes, Mr. Carter?"

  Do they know each other?

  Ben gives his answer and it’s like he's speaking another, totally alien language, because I don't understand a word. I don't mean just the formulas. I mean, every word.

  When the professor nods and turns back to the whiteboard to draw another graph, Ben leans in close. I realize too late, when his warm breath on my ear makes my heart stop. Has he gone crazy? Is he trying to give me a heart attack?

  "Sorry, it was only after I put my hand up that I realized I might draw attention to you."

  He sits up straight, diligently taking notes in his notebook, and carries on like that for the rest of the lesson.

  Quantum Physics 3.0 Honors turns out to be the longest hour of my life.

  "Let's go look for Mark. You have second period with him, at least this time you've got more of a chance of finding the right room. It's not a dead cert, seeing as my brother's involved, but it's fifty-fifty at least."

  He places the palm of his hand gently on my back and moves me forward.

  His hand.

  On my back.

  He may as well have just thrust his hand inside my underwear...and now I can't help thinking of his hand inside my underwear...What the hell's wrong with me?

  "How do you know I have the second class with Mark?" I ask, trying to erase the sinful thought from my mind.

  "I know everything," he replies smugly, glancing around. My dirty look doesn’t escape him. "Mark's been repeating it for the past four days. First, second, and fourth class on Monday and Wednesday, two seminars on Tuesday, and a workshop Thursday afternoon. How about that?"

  I'm impressed. Even Erika has done nothing for the past week but repeat her own schedule, but apart from the fact we're in the same building, I don't remember anything else.

  "Cat-Babe, what happened?" Mark asks, dragging me away from his brother. His arms around me feel reassuring.

  "Never leave me again," I groan against his shoulder.

  Mark laughs and wraps his arm even tighter, stroking my head. "Oh, Cat-Babe. I'm here now." He giggles again and I feel instantly better.

  "Are you finished?" Ben asks
, gazing at us, his head bent to one side.

  "Poor Cat-Babe. After an hour with the big, bad wolf I'm surprised you haven't thrown yourself off a bridge somewhere." He slips his arm into mine and leads me down the corridor, ignoring Ben's 'Fuck you!'. I turn and look at Ben but he's already walking away. I never even thanked him.

  Mark stops to chat with a group of guys, his arm still firmly around my shoulders, and I see them eyeing me curiously.

  "Who's your friend?" asks a short guy, beating the others to it.

  "She's my girl, so spread the word. Anyone touches her and they'll have to answer to me."

  The guys laugh but nod their heads and I realize he’s serious. A couple of girls walk down the corridor and I can't help noticing their hateful glares as they pass.

  We enter the classroom and I check a hundred times that it's the right one. I take my iPhone out and type a message to Ben; 'Thanks', then put it away again.

  "I signed the attendance sheet for you this morning and I also got you a copy of the program."

  "Aw, thanks. You're all so kind to me." I crack my knuckles in embarrassment. Maybe the Carter boys really have taken me under their wing.

  "It's your freckles. Guys go crazy for those sexy freckles." Mark nudges me jokingly then floors me with a beautiful, bright smile.

  I roll my eyes and take my notebook from my bag.

  Let's try this again.

  When he leaves me in front of the room for third class Mark's instructions are very clear: "As soon as you're done, go upstairs and wait for me by your locker, we can go to fourth class together. Is it okay if I come home with you guys? Ben has class until 3 p.m. The Nerd is taking three extra courses this semester. At this rate he'll be the first to graduate, beating us all by a year."

  Mark is just as brainy but he pretends not to be interested in studying. It's pretty obvious that good genes run in that family.

  Apart from the first class, the rest of the day runs smoothly. I understand a good 70% of the lessons, which is a relief. A year abroad will look good on my resume, but not if I don't keep up my average, and that's looking a lot harder than I thought.