Alberto's POV
I reach down and grab a random pebble by my feet, throwing it in the ocean.
Then I continue walking in circles. Pacing, I guess. I don't know.
My feet are starting to hurt from these rocks. But I barely even notice it. I'm barely noticing much of anything.
I run my palms down my face and groan, not even bothering to be quiet since there's never anyone out here at this hour.
I grab another pebble, toss it, and watch it plop into the water instead of skip over it first. I roll my eyes, grab a flatter pebble this time, and try again. But it still acts dumb and falls right in the water.
I force my attention away from that and press my hands against the sides of my head, shutting my eyes and continuing to walk in circles.
'Idiot, idiot, IDIOT.'
Yeah, there's no doubt that I am.
What was I thinking?!
I don't even know how it happened. I guess I got too confident. After what happened at the bookstore, I thought that maybe I could show the same affection without it seeming weird. I saw all those opportunities, and I just took them without thinking twice.
But what is making my heart pound the most is what happened at the festival. Well, actually, the several things that happened at the festival: dancing with him, touching his nose with mine... not to mention that whole hand-holding thing that he started himself.
I've been pacing at the shore—the one hidden behind our house—for over an hour now. Nothing makes sense. Everything is going through my head at once.
Frustrated, I grab a handful of pebbles and throw them out into the ocean. Then I turn away and hold my hands up against my forehead, pushing my hair back.
"Do you want them to find out? Is that it, Alberto?" I ask myself.
I grab another rock, but this time I have to pick it up with both hands because it's bigger. I hold it behind my shoulder, then toss it with all my strength, yelling out at the same time.
It lands in the water, but not very far—just enough to leave half of it underwater. The hard landing makes the water splash back at me.
I'd used my hands to protect my face from the splash. When I move my hands back down, I turn them over, eyeing the purple scales that formed.
I sigh.
Last year around this time, I did one of the riskiest things ever: I went with Luca to a human town that hated sea monsters. To them, they were considered freaks. And for a very short moment during the race, we were freaks.
But whatever. I mean, I was definitely scared of being hit by a spear or something, but I couldn't have cared less if someone saw me as a freak.
I guess it was because I didn't have much to lose.
I watch the scales disappear, then raise my fist to my chest and look down.
If things were still the same as last year, I wouldn't be so ashamed of being sick.
But now I have a family. Now I have Luca.
And after I found out that I was sick, I was determined to keep it a secret as long as I lived, because I can't lose the things I love the most. I didn't care if being sick had made me happy before. I had something special already, and revealing this secret would tear it all away from me.
This is why the whole Bruno situation... it's backwards now. Now I only shut him up when he reminds me of what I want the most.
Sometimes he'll do it by insulting me. But until now, I'd been unable to listen. It was like I was protecting myself from the truth.
But there's no hiding from the truth anymore.
I shut my eyes tightly and fall to my hands and knees. I feel a lump in my throat; I feel my eyes sting. But it needs to be said. I need to admit it.
I open my eyes just a bit, to where I can only see my hands and the floor of rocks under them.
"I...."
I take a shaky breath. My lungs burn. I ignore it.
"I'm a homosexual... and I'm in love with Luca."
And there it was. The truth was out, to no one else but me.
I bring my elbows to the rocks and let myself droop, burying my face in my hands.
I'll never be normal.
* * *
I lie there for a long time, just thinking about everything. Just wishing I'd never even seen that stupid commercial. I remember the exact words they said, and how they talked about homosexuals like they were the worst things on Earth. The people in the commercial couldn't look more disgusted.
Is that how they'll treat me? My family? Luca's family? Luca?
Will they kick me out of the family? Will Luca stop talking to me?
I finally sit back up. I stare at my hands—which have rock marks on them—before pressing them against my forehead again and groaning.
This doesn't make any sense. If being a homosexual is so wrong, and Luca is the most perfect person ever, then why was he being so loving to me yesterday? Why was he resting his head on my shoulder and holding my hand and blushing so hard when I kissed his hand? (Which, by the way, felt like I was kissing the softest butterfly wing in the world.)
Does he like me too?
My heart leaps... for a split second. Then I shut that thought out right away, knowing I'll never be that lucky. Luca is normal. He's a normal kid who likes girls and has no interest in boys. He even has a crush on an ugly girl from the just-as-ugly school he went to. If he liked me, he would have told me instead of just being lovey and sweet. He wouldn't do all that and still not confess to me.
He likes me as a best friend and nothing more.
I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. I frown out at the ocean.
Why is my gut telling me something different?
Suddenly I'm angry. I'm so angry that I almost fall over when I stand up too fast. Instead of grabbing pebbles and throwing them, I just kick them as far as I can into the water.
"I'm so sick of being sick!"
I say that way louder than I mean to. I look behind me, and after I confirm there's no one else out here, I turn back and make my hands into fists.
Why me?
Why, even after knowing how wrong it is, was I still pushing my limits? I don't know what came over me when I kissed his hand. And when I got so brave during our dance.
Was it because it didn't feel wrong at the time?
Because just seeing him last night—his pretty face, his big smile, his soft hair bounce as I spun him, his beautiful eyes look into mine as if I was his favorite person in the world—made me feel more "right" than I ever have in my whole life?
That's how he's always made me feel. Even when I first met him, he made me feel safe and loved. And when I spent time with him, I was so happy. He made me forget about all the pain I had. About all the bad things that happened to me. Even after just one day with Luca, I felt like I was so much more than a useless teenager whose dad abandoned him forever.
And I do love Giulia. She's the best. I couldn't ask for a better sister. But last summer, she almost took all that away from me. I know she didn't mean it; she was nice to both of us. But when Luca started becoming closer to her, I got really jealous of the attention he gave her. I thought I was going to lose him—the one thing that made me happy anymore.
I've always been a jealous person. But not like that. Not like I was with him.
And I couldn't figure out why.
But after Luca left for Genova, I had plenty of time to think about everything. Even while being around others, and doing things I love, and hanging out with the coolest dad in the world... I still could never get Luca off my mind. I loved thinking about him, of course, but I was getting frustrated.
Then, about two weeks after the train left, things started to piece together. I was delivering fish and enjoying the sunny weather (... and thinking of Luca), when suddenly, everything made sense. I finally realized what was going on.
I had fallen in love with Luca.
It couldn't be anything else, because that one sentence answered all of my questions. And up until the night I saw the commercial, I embraced the love more than I ever have with anything.
I miss that feeling: being able to love him so much without being ashamed of it.
And even if I'm ashamed of it now, I still can't stop wondering what would happen if Luca did love me back. Just the possibility almost makes me want to risk it all and tell him exactly how I feel.
But what if he doesn't share the same feelings? Then I wouldn't just lose everything else—I'd lose him too. And I just can't take that chance.
I think about the things Hippie told me yesterday. How all of it would help so much if I liked a girl. But with me liking a boy, I can't follow any of his advice. I can't let my heart guide me if it's leading me into a death trap.
But he also said that my feelings will eat away at me if I don't do anything about them. If I just keep them bottled up in my stupid sick body, I'll probably explode.
So how can I let these feelings out when I'm not allowed to act on them?
I push my hands against my head for about the thirtieth time tonight, and try to think of something—anything—that will help me through this mess.
I shut my eyes and breathe in deeply, but quickly. Then exhale. Then I keep doing that over and over again.
Until suddenly, I'm reminded of something.
I slowly open my eyes and move my hands from my head. I stare out in front of me. The calm waves are a little easier to hear now.
The journal.
How did I not think of it earlier?
All he ever does is write in that stupid thing. I've seen him blush like a hundred times while writing in it. And he's always protecting it. There's no way that nothing in there will give me answers.
But then again, I don't want to snoop. Normally I wouldn't care about doing something like that, but Luca is my best friend, and he trusts me. I can't just look through his stuff. He would get so mad at me, and he probably wouldn't want to share a room with me anymore.
But no matter how much I try to push the idea away, I can't get rid of it.
I sigh angrily. "No, that's not an option," I tell myself, holding my hands out in front of me. "I'm not looking through it."
But if I don't, how will I ever get over this? That journal, snooping or not, is my only chance of finding anything out. If I don't come up with some sort of plan, I'll spend the rest of the summer keeping these feelings bottled up. I just need one real answer, then I can start figuring out what I can do with my sickness.
One way or another, I need to know what he's writing down.
After a few more minutes of standing there, thinking everything over, I finally have the energy to turn around and walk home.
I have two days until Luca comes back. By then, I'll have a plan.