Claire & I

Chapter Nine: Milan, Italy

 Milan, Italy had the same humidity as France. We landed mid-day because Dr. Helminstein wanted a checkup due to my burning sensation earlier. Everything seemed to be fine for the most part, so we continued our journey into Italy. Dr. Helminstein made me take a painkiller before leaving the plane, and I would need to use them throughout the day.

Once we had thrown our bags into the hotel, we were off to lunch. "Where's the spaghetti and meatballs?" Claire asked as we read off the menu. "Actually, they don't put meatballs in their spaghetti. They're two different courses," I informed. She gave me a confused look. "How do you even know that?" she asked. I shrugged, "I googled different rules and traditions. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right?"

She sighed, "Fine. How about Alfredo?" "They don't know what that is either," I told her. Claire sighed again, indicating that she was getting annoyed with me. Our waiter came to us. "Have you figured out what you want?" he asked. "Yes, I'd like to have the ravioli with butter and sage and fillet on the house," my father stated, "And I wouldn't mind some Coke."

"Coke?" the waiter asked, looking puzzled. "Dad!" I exclaimed, "You can't have Coke with ravioli and fillet!" "But-" my father protested, but I cut him off. "He will have some wine to go with that, my good sir," I told the waiter.

He nodded, looking to my mother who then ordered the vegetable soup. She would be sharing the wine I ordered for my father. "I will have the ravioli my father ordered and some barbequed chicken breast, but I will have water to go with that," I said.

The waiter placed it down on his paper. Everyone waited for Claire. She stared down at her menu. "I'll have the...penne pasta and roast veal with water?" she said, her voice making it sound like a question.

"It will be out shortly," the waiter replied, leaving. I sighed in relief. "What would you guys do without me?" I asked.

***

While I was tearing through my chicken breast, my mother addressed me. "Our tour of the Istituto Marangoni is at 3:30 p.m. The tour should take two to three hours, so it will be around 6 or 7 by the time we find a place to eat," my mother informed.

We all acknowledged what she had said. By the time we were done with our lunch and stuffed completely, it was 3:00 p.m.

"I'm here! I'm here!" I yelled at the receptionists as we came through the doors of the Istituto Marangoni. She looked up from her computer, surprised by my action.

"And who are you?" she asked, her voice slightly sharp. "I'm Keira Gregor. I'm here for a tour," I informed. She typed on her computer, but she still gave me a bewildered glance. "I'm here because of my wish. I'm a cancer patient," I stated flatly.

She smiled as though she understood. The receptionists pressed on her ear piece before speaking, "I have a Ms. Gregor here for her 3:30 tour."

She let go of the ear piece to talk to me, "Ms. Toscano will be down in a few minutes. Please take a seat."

***

"Hello, my name is Barbara Toscano," Ms. Toscano greeted, shaking my hand. "Keira Gregor," I introduced. Barbara had short, orange hair that was curly. She also had red glasses that allowed her brown eyes to see. Ms. Toscano also wore black business attire. I made sure I looked as decent as possible with a blue blouse and black heels I bought from Harrods.

"Istituto Marangoni is a school where the passion for fashion unites distant cultures, different ideas, and young people from all over the world," Ms. Toscano told us as we followed her down various hallways. "You are fascinated in fashion, correct?" she asked me. I nodded, "I have so many catalogs."

Ms. Toscano smiled. "That is good as I am the Director of fashion here," she informed. I smiled, holding in my squeal.

I looked to Claire. My parents were off somewhere as they didn't want to 'bother' me, but I knew they just wanted an excuse to not walk around and talk about fashion. Claire stayed with me, but she wasn't paying attention as she was talking to someone on the phone behind us. Who it was, I didn't know. I looked back to Ms. Toscano

"Istituto Marangoni was born here in Milan, Italy," she went on, giving us additional information about the fashion school. "Would you like to see a class?" she asked. "Would I?!" I said, my voice excited. I was about to agree when Claire intervened. "I'm sorry, but we must decline," she said.

"What?!" I asked. "Yes, unfortunately, Keira and I must get to her parents. They would like to meet up for, ugh, dinner," Claire clarified. "Oh, I see," Ms. Toscano said. She turned to me, "I wish you the best, Ms. Gregor."

"Yes, yes, we must be going," Claire stated, practically dragging me out of the college. When we were outside, I yanked Claire off of me. "What the hell, Claire?!" I questioned. "I'm sorry, but we have to go back home right now," she told me.

I had never seen Claire this way. She was distraught and almost frightened. "What?" I asked, not comprehending, "Why do we have to go back home?"

Who was she talking to, I thought. She grunted in frustration. "We just have to go back to the hospital!" Claire demanded. I folded my arms. "We're not going home until my trip is over," I declared.

Claire grunted in anger again. "Keira, you out of all people must understand!" she yelled at me. "Understand what?" I asked. She was making me nervous. Claire murmured to herself, throwing her hands about as though she was fighting herself.

I placed my hand on her shoulder. "Take it easy," I told her. Claire stopped for a heartbeat to listen to me. "Now, take a deep breath," I instructed. She did as I told. I outstretched my hand, my index finger towards Claire. "Blow out the candle," I stated. Claire let the air escape her lungs onto my index finger as though it was a candle.

When she was calmed, I backed up slightly to give her space. "Better?" I asked. Claire nodded. "Now, let's call my parents. I think you need to sit down," I told her.

***

We had dinner at a new hotspot in town. The place was called, "Random Fandom", and most of the items on the menu were references to fan bases such as The Hunger Games and even Avatar: The Last Airbender. Out of the assortment of items, we ordered an appetizer titled, "What the Doctor Ordered" respectively to the fandom Doctor Who. Small plates came out and onto the table with a variety of different foods such as banana crisps and celery sticks. Not once did I ask Claire about what was so important, nor did she push me about leaving.  

Afterwards, Claire and I stayed in the hotel and watched a movie until Claire fell asleep. I looked down at her as she slept.

Was what happened earlier a side effect from withdraw? I had never been addicted, and I was never around addicts, so I was utterly confused on the subject. I just knew that Claire was obsessed. Still, it was strange as I had bottle after bottle of drugs in my bag. If Claire really wanted one or two, there was nothing stopping her. Did she prefer one drug to the other, and I happened to be low on the one she liked? Or was it more?

I remembered the slip second in which Claire didn't say anything when I asked her how she felt about the trip. Was that the reason? I then remembered how bored she looked while in London. Did she really think this trip was a great opportunity? In France, she seemed to enjoy herself with what happened at The Louvre. I recalled when she picked me up when my leg started to fail on me. It was like she had done it before.

All of these questions and more pestered me. However, I decided not to wake her and interrogate as that wouldn't help. Slowly, I exited her bed and slid into mine. Those questions would be asked another day, I thought. Let's just focus on my wish.