Contemporary Milan, Italy.
In the dazzling world of Vincitore Academy, Margherita, a half-Korean firebrand from humble beginnings, ignites a clash of wills with the P2, the city's elite quartet of dazzling and entitled boys.
Yet, privilege holds no...
Time moved on and others with it, leaving Margherita behind.
Margherita was not moving on at all, the Saturn pendant heavy with questions around her neck. She should have been thrilled that her life could go back to normal, but the quiet she had craved felt deafening now, empty.
Margherita had no idea she'd miss Re so much. Their relationship—friendship? Feud?—felt unresolved, incomplete, and now would remain so. His stupid pranks and overboard gestures had made her feel seen. Despite all the trouble visibility had brought her, going back to invisibility was not as soothing as she'd hoped.
At the swimming championship in May, she qualified for regionals, and even made finals, the only third-year student to get that far. Her bronze medal did not take her to nationals, but she'd only trained for a little over one year, and by herself. She had potential.
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Besides Mauro, students at Vincitore Academy still ignored her but now with a tacit respect. An athlete of no means and average looks, she'd somehow broken through the impregnable barrier around the P2, befriending and possibly dating two of them, including the king himself.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo had quietly filled the empty spaces left in the wake of Mauro dating Laura. He walked with Margherita at recess, helped her in math, and continued to hang out at the pool. Jealous glares still poked Margherita between the shoulder blades, but she ignored them.
Finally, by June her life started to fit her again. She could see things more clearly now that she had perspective. Initially, her—what? Crush? Attraction?—preoccupation with Vincitore had left her head and feelings so inflated and gigantic that everything else had seemed insignificant by comparison. Now that she was coming down from that strange high, the small details of her routine came back into focus.
"So, you and Tristante..." Mauro dropped, casually, during a bright June recess on the last day of school. They were sitting on the green wooden bench by a path hidden by shrubs.
"Still just friends," she replied. "As it turns out, I'm not attracted to him," she explained, proud that she'd finally learned the difference between liking someone and being physically attracted to them, and that she'd finally been able to admit to herself she'd been attracted to the psycho.
Margherita had been attracted to Re, but did not like him, while she had liked Lorenzo, without being attracted to him. Neither of them was boyfriend material, period.
Mauro relaxed in the sun. His affection for Margherita ran deep, but he no longer pined for her. The flight of fancy that had overlaid a romance above their friendship seemed comical, now. He could never imagine doing to Margherita the things he did with Laura. Gross. Mauro just wished that Margherita could be safe and happy.
Hopefully, one day.
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