Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
POV: Brooklyn "A certain darkness is needed to see the stars." Summer #3
"Shit!" I yelled as I was pulled out of my dream with a splash of water to the face.
I grabbed my coat and started to dab the water from my now-drenched T-shirt, not noticing the deadly silence until I literally heard a pin drop.
My dad, like always, was the first to say something.
"All of this crying and whining," Papa sighed, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"When will you ever stop and actually do something with your problems for once, huh?" "Or is that a little too hard for you?"
"Anthony," my mom started, turning in her seat to look at me with eyes full of pity. I hated her pity more than anything because the "superhero mom and badass lawyer" display is nothing but a mask. My mom didn't even know my favorite color, but I guess that didn't matter because she was "too busy building a life for you that I never had". It was the same excuse every single time I asked why she couldn't make it to my middle school graduation or my art award ceremony. At one point, I just stopped looking for her in the crowd.
Why would I set myself up for inevitable disappointment?
I closed my eyes and tried to search for an explanation, but nothing could explain what just happened. I can't risk telling anyone, even my sister, the real reason I'm going back to Italy after leaving so early last year. There is still unfinished business there, and even though I loathe my father, I thank him for teaching me to never leave a deal half-done. Personal or not.
I walk out of the car.
The buzz of the airport calms my system immediately, knowing that everyone is too busy in their world to notice the stricken girl entering. We all had one goal: to get out of here, and as selfish as it seems, they don't have time to worry about others, and neither do I.
Well, that's what I thought before I noticed people staring at me strangely as I walked towards the rows of very uncomfortable seats. My family was slightly famous, but only in the business world; it didn't matter to people outside the circle. I sometimes got attention, but never this much.
No one has ever taken pictures, whispered in their neighbor's ear, or rudely pointed.
I all of a sudden knew how animals felt at the zoo, with people picking and prowling at them. Like I was the butt of some joke that everyone knew was coming, I just wanted them to stop, but there was no escaping this cage.
I felt uncomfortable in my own skin and hated it.
Ultimately, I took a detour towards the small gift shop in the corner with overpriced coffee and last-minute gifts. My bag was slightly underpacked, and I looked around for important things I might have missed. I've never been this disorganized, but I've never been on the edge of running away and living in a jungle either. The thought brought a smile to my lips. Maybe I should trade my ticket for a one-way one to Peru?
