Sink or Swim - Luca x Alberto

Green Eyes (PART TWO)

Luca's POV

"Ecco a lei, gente." Massimo sets a platter of bruschette down on the table. Bruschette are kind of like tiny pizzas that you can eat in two bites. Mom told me they're one of her favorite human foods.

"Grazie." Mom and Massimo give each other a nod before he walks back into the house.

At the table with me are Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Riccardo. Giulia's over at the other end of the patio with the two elderly sea monster ladies. Guido and Ciccio should be here soon.

Alberto's in the kitchen helping Massimo make Penne allá Bolognese. I hope he sits across from me.

"So you're a sea monster like Alberto, right?" Riccardo asks me.

I nod, grabbing my glass of water and dipping my finger in it. "See?" I say as my finger turns green with scales.

"Wow." Riccardo rests his elbows on the table and leans forward. "That's really cool."

His tone of voice, I've noticed, is always really flat. He always seems unimpressed by everything. But it's kind of funny. It makes me laugh inside.

"Luca, enough of that." Mom reaches over Riccardo and pulls my hand out of the water. "Where are your manners?"

"Sorry, Mom." I fold my hands in my lap and sink down a bit. "I'm just bored. How long till it's ready?"

Honestly, I really only care about Alberto. He's only been gone twenty or so minutes, but I always get excited to see him again. My stomach does a little jump at the thought of him.

"Might be another ten minutes," Grandma replies for Mom, before taking a quick sip of water from her own glass. "Maybe fifteen if he's giving your friend instructions."

I look up at the house, then move my legs over the table bench and stand up. "Mind if I do something real quick, then?" I ask, but not really asking a specific person.

"Luca, we're with company." Mom frowns at me, silently telling me to sit back down.

But Dad saves the day. "Daniela, he's fine. He's probably going to change shirts or something."

"Uhh... yeah!" I smile and nod, holding my hands in front of me. "That's what I'm doing."

Now Mom's frowning at Dad. "I'm not entirely sure Massimo would appreciate Luca entering without permission."

"Honey, during the week, it's just as much Luca's house as it is theirs."

I look awkwardly to the side, then carefully shuffle away from the table and hurry into the house while Mom's focused on Dad.

I haven't written in my journal in days, and I want to jot down a poem about Berto's eyes before I forget the ideas I came up with. This is also why I try to be quiet while going upstairs—I don't want Alberto to know I'm here and follow me up there.

I know it's silly to feel so close to a journal, and to risk anyone seeing the contents by writing in it a lot, but it's nice to write down my feelings. I want them to exist somewhere other than my mind. If I can't tell someone, I want to at least tell something. I like knowing I have a secure place to keep my feelings.