17| Tregua?

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17| Tregua?

FOR dessert, I tried to ignore Nic's words looming over my mind

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FOR dessert, I tried to ignore Nic's words looming over my mind. I tried to be all there when dessert came and Ava asked me once again what the hell we were eating.

"Is it a brownie?" she asked, looking at the incredibly brownie-like dessert in front of her.

I scoffed. "Is it a brownie? Ava, we are at an authentic Italian restaurant, and you really think Gio is going to serve us a brownie?"

"Okay, sheesh, just tell me what it is then," she said, smiling. "And don't leave out any history implanted in your brain."

I grinned. "This is a torta barozzi, or a black cake. It was renamed after a famous architect, Jacopo Barozzi, in 1907. It's almonds, peanuts, coffee, and dark chocolate, created in a village called Vignola at the end of the 19th century by Eugenio Gollini, a pastry chef. The recipe used to be a secret until it became well known in the region and everyone began to replicate it. Gio, as he says, replicated it perfectly."

"How do you remember all of that history? I've never been able to care about most things involved in history," Ava said.

I shrugged. "Gio has told me a lot and I do research when I'm bored," I told her. "What Matteo is having is a classic budino di riso. It's commonly eaten as a snack or for breakfast, but it's also a dessert. It's a custard-tart hybrid with rice pudding and lemon zest."

"You sound like a chef."

"Unfortunately, I'm no chef. Simple a history and random facts junkie, I suppose."

Ava took her fork and scooped herself a bite. "Do I need to try this before I die, too?"

I smirked. "There are a lot of things you should try before you die. And I can show you every single one."

"Smooth," Matteo drawled from across the table.

Dessert was finished up in less than 15 minutes and afterwards, I hugged my family goodbye. My mom squeezed me as tightly as she could and so did my dad, and then Nic hugged me gently and sincerely. It felt better knowing that he wasn't angry at me, he just wanted me to be careful. It was still weird hearing about his secret friendship with Will Cunningham and all of the things he hadn't told me, but it was good. And I knew that I needed clarity.

So after saying goodbye to my parents and Gio, promising I would be back soon enough, Maverick, Matteo, Ava, and I left the restaurant and started walking slowly (we were all, I suspect, filled up with delicious Italian food) down the streets.

"I am in need of a siesta," Matteo said, yawning. He stumbled a little and ran into Maverick, who steadied Matteo with his hands on his shoulders.

"I think Matteo needs a long and good sleep," Maverick said. "Should we head back?"

"Hmm," Matteo hummed, nodding.

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