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...
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POV: Brooklyn "And like the moon, we must go through phases of emptiness to feel full again." Summer #3
Ricardo called me in not long after I had somewhat finished eating lunch. Supposedly, the café was very packed, and they were short on staff. I was little reluctant since hangover and work didn't mix, but once I found out that Ava was going to be there, I hurriedly put my old uniform on.
There is so much we need to catch up on, starting with the girl I saw post on her Instagram story a couple months ago. I know I've been a bad friend not only to Ava but to the other girls, so while one of Val's drivers takes me to work, I mentally plan a night with them at my apartment.
"Here"
Thanking the driver, I got out of the car and walked into the café, smiling instantly when I saw Ava behind the cash register.
"AHHH!" She ran from behind the register, ignoring the customer, to give me the biggest hug ever. She may not be very good with her job or the customers, but Ricardo keeps her around because she brings this light of positivity that people can't help but gravitate to, and for that I envy her.
I was once that girl—the type of girl at school who was filled with positivity and friends with everyone. I feel that girl still there sometimes, in the little things, like when I add brightness to my paintings, lightly smile to myself at a faraway memory, or feel my body sway to soft music.
I know she's there; I just have to find her.
"You're killing me Aves," I gasped from the tight grip she has on me.
"Sorry, not sorry," she shrugs and returns to the now annoyed customer. I cringe, thinking it's time to clock in and take the register now.
The day went by in a blur; Ricardo was not playing with the full house, and even though there were two other workers there, we were still running around to meet the demands of tourists.
The café was one of the most popular ones in Italy, and the tourists soaked up every detail of it, enjoying the mint green and light pink theme. The outside was covered in leaves that made the shop pop. It was one of the first places I visited when I first stepped into Italy, and I'm still astonished by its cuteness.
Sighing, I put up one of the last chairs after mopping up the whole place. It was 10 p.m., and I was surprisingly anxious to go home. When I presented Ava with the idea of a girl's night at my house like old times, she squealed so loudly that some customers covered their ears.
"OMG, imagine the fun we will have like old times; you remember truth or dare?" She was practically going to explode with happiness and break my arm from how hard she was holding it.
I lightly reminisce on the memories, I really did miss my girls, we were freaking delusional and borderline insane.
After finally locking up, we took the bus to take us back to my apartment, having a very serious conversation.
"Water is not wet," I yelled, not caring who heard me on the bus. Ava and I have been arguing about this for years. She somehow still thinks water is wet.
"YES, IT IS!" she yelled back, throwing up her arms in exasperation.
The ride continued like that before we were dropped off at our stop, throwing apologetic glances towards the driver and other riders who were unfortunate enough to ride with us.
When an old man reading a newspaper looked up and winked at us, we both cringed and hurried to get off, laughing as we lightly skipped across the street, imitating the voice of an old man trying pick-up lines on girls.
It got so bad that at one point we both had to stop because we were drunk from laughing so hard, clutching our stomach, and stumbling down the street like we were high, and we were.
We were high off this feeling of having a best friend again, the person who can both cry or laugh hard with and it was nice, you know, this new feeling.
