The Grudge •||• PA17

•||•

Spring 2022, Bologna

High school was supposed to be the easy part of my life. At least, that is what everyone told me. My mother would remind me on the way to races, "Enjoy it while you can, Viviana. These years go by so fast." I never felt like it went fast. For me, it always felt like being trapped between two worlds. Half student, half racing driver, never fully one or the other. Every day was a balancing act between homework, exams, and training sessions that left me exhausted.

That week, the chaos seemed worse than usual. I was now sixteen, the weight of upcoming exams hovered over me while each karting session, each Formula 3 test, mattered more than ever. My notebooks were filled with physics equations and notes on braking points in corners. History assignments competed for space with my calculations of average lap times. Teachers rolled their eyes at my absences and my classmates whispered about how much I got away with, but nobody really knew how heavy the load felt.

Thea noticed everything. She leaned across my desk in the middle of algebra class and whispered, "You are staring out the window again. Thinking about him?"

I flushed and lowered my eyes. "No."

Of course, I was thinking about him. Paul. The week had been filled with subtle glances and small touches that made my chest tighten. His hand brushing mine accidentally or so he said, half-teasing and half-serious remarks that made me dizzy.

"You are terrible at lying," Thea said, smirking. "You have liked him forever. Admit it. You think he does not notice?"

I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on the quadratic equations in front of me, but my mind wandered. Paul being home in Italy for a short break meant a family dinner was planned. Our families had always been close. Dinner at Paul's house had been a tradition for years, one of those evenings where racing and school collided in awkward, cozy ways.

"Just tell him already," Thea whispered as we walked through the cafeteria later that day. She elbowed me gently. "Tonight is your chance. Nineteen and sixteen, yes, but you have liked him forever. If you do not tell him now, when will you?"

"I will tell him when it feels right," I said, biting my lip.

Thea groaned. "And what exactly are you waiting for? A cosmic sign? An angel? Something? Come on, Vivi. It is dinner at his house. You will be alone with him. Perfect moment."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered. "You do not have your brain turning into a drum whenever he smiles."

She laughed, leaning closer. "Yeah, well, your brain already has, apparently."

...

The week dragged on. My attention in class wavered, my focus split between formulas and flashing images of Paul's grin. During biology, I doodled his initials in the margins before scrubbing them out. In chemistry, every reaction seemed to remind me of the sparks I felt whenever he looked at me. Even Thea noticed, giving me pointed looks when she passed by.

"Do you even know what is going on for the history exam?" she asked one afternoon while we walked home.

"Somewhat," I said. "Something about the French Revolution... maybe the Declaration of... um, rights?"

She gave me a playful nudge. "Vivi, focus. You need to pass, not daydream about Paul every second."

I smiled sheepishly. "I know, I know."

"You are hopeless," she said, shaking her head. "But at least you are a hopeless romantic. That counts for something."

...