Unlovable

.3.

I was hungry and worried at the same time.

"The name sounds familiar," I wondered lowly. I could not recall hearing this name but it felt familiar which was strange. I shrugged off the thought, not worrying about something which was least of my concern.

My first concern was that Vincenzo was coming here.
My second concern was that Lorenzo was attacked.

They both were strong reasons to worry me.

My mind pondered on why was Lorenzo attacked at first place. As much as I had seen, he was a strong man, and the definition of man started with him, no pun intended. He had well connections with all countries and the underworld. Well, I was not afraid of it. If this happened to me an year before I met Vincenzo, I would have freaked out, left the town, left the country etc. However now, it felt strangely good to accept it.

"Huh? You might be confusing it with Adrian from science department," Jess hummed.

I nodded my head in return. Might be.

"Hey, um it's time for me and Lily to go for our next class," Crystal smiled at Jess and age nodded.

Both of us got up. I started thinking on eBay should I do when Vincenzo gets here. Surely I was angry and pissed with him, but I had no actions or no words to do and speak when we encounter each other.

"What are you thinking about girl?" Crystal asked as we both walked through the corridors, walking towards our next class. Harvard had such a huge campus that it took almost ten minutes to travel from classes.

"You know," I grimaced, playing with my fingers, "it's complicated."

I debated internally if I should trust her or not.

"You can tell me bout it," she offered with an encouraging look.

I started thinking if she was another woman who crushed on Vincenzo. After all he was no less than a celebrity. People kissed the land he walked upon and it would be foolish to give away Vincenzo's identity. However I really wanted to discuss my unsolved debates with someone. Crystal was the closest to me ever since I came here.

"It is.." I struggled to put words in my mouth, "relationship problems."

She laughed lightly, "Well here I was thinking you are single as fück."

I shook my head, hiding the lightest blush on my rosy cheeks. It was almost embarrassing to turn red every time I think of Vincenzo, even when I was confused and angry about our present scenarios.

We entered our class, and we were greeted by another professor of our English department. She was a kind woman in her seventies, and was a learned poet and author of many books. She offered everyone a kind smile.

"Good morning class," she began, her voice stern and subtle at the same time, "Welcome to your next romance lecture, but before beginning today's romanticism, I have an information to deliver."

All of us looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"As informed earlier in your newsletters," she continued, "Profressir Salvatore will not be joining us tomorrow. He shall be gracing us with his presence by next week."

"She is speaking like Shakespeare's granny did," someone whispered behind me and I couldn't stop a smile from emerging.

Sometimes Vincenzo spoke like that and it felt like each words he uttered was costing him a penny. It seemed unnatural for him to speak English, and his original Italian accent was reflected a lot of times in the conversations we shared. I couldn't help but smile at those priceless memories.