IV Confrontation
Angelo Tallerico.
The whispers still followed me around where I went but people were still too terrified after my show down with that maggot on the field to actually say it to my face. I had added a new name to my list of others- crazy.
The Crazy Michelangelo with a baseball bat who wanted to kill Carson McQueen. That one actually made me smile a little.
I walked into English Literature and could feel their gossip hungry eyes assessing me. Gossip being the delicacy it was in Atlantic Central High, the whispers intensified as I sat down in my usual seat by the window. On hearing my name at least five times I stood up to face the class and asked loud enough for everyone to hear, "Do you idiots have something to say to me?” The class went silent. "No?" I challenged, "then I'd better not hear my name again because that's like calling One- Eight-Hundred -Collect- An- Ass- Whipping! And no, that’s not a toll free call, Compadre!"
The class was silent enough for me to hear their breathing. "Now that's a little better," I said and sat down again. The whispers died down to a hum and I closed my eyes just wishing for some - any- kind of relief.
I heard the teacher come in and call the class to order.
"Mr. Tallerico?'
My eyes snapped open at once. Mrs. Stavros, our plump Literature Teacher was peering at me through her half moon spectacles. "Vice Principal. Dreyfuss would like to see you."
I felt the blood draining from my face. So the authorities had heard the rumors. Great. Just terrific. A succession of 'oohs" and 'So Busted!' sounded through the class. Ignoring them and their mean smirks, I got up from my seat and made for the Administrative Floor. Miss. Gaines, the secretary gave me a sympathetic smile and told me, "You can go in."
I paused in front of the door. The sign on it read, Vice Principal And Head of Student Affairs
Mrs. Patricia J. Dreyfuss.
Exhaling, I knocked thrice.
"Come in," she said from inside. I opened the door and stepped into the room.
Vice Principal Dreyfuss sat at her mahogany desk looking over a file.
"You wanted to see me, Vice Principal Dreyfuss?" I said.
She looked up and smiled warmly. "Yes, Mr. Tallerico. Come in and have a seat."
I saw the name on the blue file and gulped. Mrs. Dreyfuss closed my smile and faced me.
"My, you've grown taller. When was the last time you were in here?"
I looked around her office that was neat and decorated with pictures of her kids, "Um... you had a red velvet couch and Malcolm's high chair was in the corner."
She smiled, "Nothing gets by you, right?" and I shrugged. "I've been looking over your records Angelo and I'm impressed. From the day you stepped into this school you've maintained an admirable 5.0 GPA and you've never gotten a mark below an A. Perfect attendance record for 2 years straight, all your teachers say you're a joy to teach and you've never given them a single speck of trouble, you've won almost every prize of repute in the school, impeccable character...."
Her praise made me a tad uncomfortable. Good grades had never been an option in my life. I knew where I wanted to go. Yale or Wellesley. College tuition wasn't cheap and no matter how many shifts my mother worked she couldn't afford to send me to Ivy League.
"...you're also quite involved in extracurricular activities," Mrs. Dreyfuss went on, "Our school hasn't lost a single Scholastic Decathlon since you joined the club, you excelled at the Pascal Mathematics Olympiad, you're a gold medalist in the Junior Engineers and Technicians Competition... you lead our Mighty Eagles to a stunning victory with a three goals out of four ..." she paused to look at me in awe, "Angelo Tallerico, is there anything you can't do?”
"I don’t know. I guess flunk out."
"I can go as far as to say you are probably the best student this school has ever seen since its establishment twenty one years ago. You have a really bright future ahead of you. What colleges do you have in mind?"
"Yale, Columbia or Dartmouth."
"Ivy League," she nodded in approval, "I graduated from Vassar myself. That’s very nice. You're a very bright boy, Angelo and I don't doubt that you're going to make everyone proud."
"Thank you, Signora. Dreyfuss," I said, slowly feeling at ease.
"I'll not beat around the bush, Angelo," she turned businesslike; "I assume you know why you're being called in?"
"I'm afraid to confirm it," I mumbled.
"Unfortunately, I have heard talk about you and controlled substances and none of it flattering at all," she said grimly. "But of course most of it is gossip and I don't listen to that but word gets around Angelo. The teachers discuss these things and rumors like this could soil that impeccable image that you've worked so hard for."
"Mrs. Dreyfuss, I swear on my mother that I have never touched any Percocet, amphetamines or Adderalls or even steroids. I don't even take Tylenol or Advil for headaches and believe me I've been getting a lot of those lately. I'll take a drug test right now if you ask," I said.
"Angelo," she said calmly, "Calm down. I believe you."
I frowned, "You do?"
She nodded, "Yes. First there is your established character of honesty and truthfulness and you have never been in any trouble plus you are one of our best students. But I feel I have to warn you, this little situation will not be easy. I've begun my own investigations and I'm trying to contain it."
"Why is that?" I enquired.
"Well should word of this get to the Board of Directors I'm afraid your scholarship could be terminated."
My head began to pound and I nearly fainted. My scholarship?
"Terminated?" I asked in horror and she nodded gravely.
"I'm afraid that Atlantic Hall Academy cannot be associated with drugs. If your name was remotely linked to it, then you would be cut from our program among other things."
"Dio." I whispered raking a hand through my head, "This cannot be happening." I looked at Mrs. Dreyfuss, "Please Mrs. Dreyfuss, I cannot lose my scholarship. I'll die if I do. I'm doing everything I can to qualify for Yale. My mother is working double shifts to put food on the table, my grandfather's arthritis is acting up and I've got two baby siblings in grade school. I have to graduate from college to help out in my family and that can't happen if my scholarship is revoked. My scholarship is the key to everything. I cannot lose my scholarship." I paused at a loss for words and Mrs. Dreyfuss looked at me in sympathy.
"Don't worry, Angelo. I can promise you I will do everything in my power to protect you," she assured me, "I just have a word of advice."
"I'm listening." It was all I could do.
"I suggest you abstain from any illegal activities and cut off any unsavory characters that could damage your reputation and in the long run cost you your future."
"Si, Signora," I swallowed. "I swear to you I will do that. Anything else?"
"Keep up the good work in your studies as well," she added.
"Thank you Mrs. Dreyfuss," I said gratefully, "You don't know what this means to me."It felt good to know that someone believed in me enough to stand up and back me up. I was living in a system where everyone believed that poor Sicilians on the wrong side of town were thugs and drug dealers.
She smiled warmly at me. "I am a fair woman, Angelo and I won't condemn you unheard. I believe you need some support and I am ready to give it to you."
I was about to reply when my phone rang loudly.
Dreyfuss smiled and nodded, "Go ahead, Angelo. It sounds important."
I thanked her and answered my mother. "Si, Mamma?"
My mother promptly informed me that she couldn't get off from work and she needed me to pick up my younger siblings from school because it was a half day so their school had closed early and she also needed me to do some grocery shopping. Sighing I said I would try and hung up. Principal Dreyfuss was understanding and excused me from the rest of the day.
I thanked her once again before leaving her office. I stopped at Mama's bakery to pick up her old Ford.
"Oh, ringraziamo, mio amare," she told me when I stopped by.
"Lo bene," I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. My mother was the only person in this world who could read me like a book. The two of us were very close and I didn't know what I would do if she were gone. She had sacrificed a lot for her children and, short of words, she was our hero.
Today, she saw my face and touched my cheek, making me look at her. "Hey, what's that face for?" she asked me in Italian.
"What face?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"That face," she insisted.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it, I'm fine."
"Don't you dare lie to me about anything, Michelangelo. If anything is bothering my baby, I will-"
"I know, mama," I cut her off, and gave a smile, "you're Wonder Woman, and ti amo, I'm just dealing with some stuff and school."
She frowned harder. "Anything I can help you with? Do you want me to come down to your school and talk with your principal?"
I shook my head. "its fine, Mamma. I can handle it."
She leaned forward to peck me on the lips. "Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve such an amazing son."
"Mamma," I complained, but I was smiling. "You said something about some trouble with the twins at school?" I asked.
"Yes,” she sighed. “Mother McFarland called and said she wanted a PTA meeting to talk about Giulian. He was sent to the office."
"Again?" I frowned heavily. "That's the second time this month. Do you know what happened?"
"No," she shook her head, "but please find out and talk to him, ok? He looks up to you."
"I will." I kissed my mother again, "see you at dinner." before driving over to the school, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables and other items then I drove over to my old elementary school, Our Lady, Queen of Peace Catholic School.
Open Day was almost over and only a few parents remained. I first checked out my sister Arianna's class. I found her chatting animatedly with two little girls.
"Ciao, amore," I called.
She smiled and skipped over to me where I lifted her up for a kiss despite her age.
"Where's mom?" she asked.
"What, you're not happy that your big brother came to your school?" I asked in a faux hurt voice. "That really hurts, baby girl."
"Angelo," she rolled her eyes, looking very much like our mother when she did that.
"She's working and can't get off. But hey, what's this?" I tugged at the bright gold and green sash on her grey pinafore.
Her sweet face lit up and her honey eyes twinkled. "I was voted Class Host for today's Open Day! I got to give a speech and I told about all our class awards! Oh, Angelo, you should have seen me!" By now she was bouncing up and down with excitement.
"Now I'm really sorry for myself that I missed your big Oprah moment, but maybe you could do it all over again tonight. I'll get a camera and everything."
Her teacher, a slender nun dressed in school colors, grey and green walked in.
"Sister. Mason," I greeted and went to shake her. "The class looks wonderful," I said, admiring the class projects that were on display.
"Thank you, Mr. Tallerico, and did you also know Arianna was our Class Host?"
"Grade Five Peace is one lucky class."
"Angelo," Arianna was tugging my hand toward the class projects, "come see my art work."
I looked at her papier mâche model of a kitten, her science project- Mount Vesuvius, and the class pet, a fat hamster they called Sugarpop. Next, I had to inspect her books and papers, which were not new to me since I inspected their school work.
Sister Mason confirmed what I already knew, Arianna was the best little girl in her class. I thanked her again and proceeded to get my brother.
Giulian had been put in my old class, Grade Five Grace. He was the only child left. I paused in the doorway to study him. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, he wound his green tie around his wrist and was concentrating solely on his drawing. World War III might have taken place and he wouldn't have been stirred. I walked over and tugged on his braid before peering into the notepad.
"That's some dragon," I remarked, impressed at the fire breathing creature perched upon a burning tower. "Where's the heroic prince?"
"There isn't any," Giulian answered simply, using a red color pencil to bring out the red hot flames in the picture. "The dragon chained him up, tortured the guy and then flayed
him alive."
I raised an eyebrow. "Harsh. Any reason why you're depicting a particularly gruesome tale people might find disturbing?"
The dragon’s fangs were dripping with blood and gore now. He shrugged. "I like it." Giulian closed his notepad and stuffed it into his bag. His teacher, a young seminary student came in.
"Mr. Tallerico," he nodded to me.
"How are you doing, Brother Joseph?" I replied shaking his hand.
"Good, but I would like to talk about your brother Giulian. He's been sent to the principal's office twice and his attitude is getting... worse."
I frowned. "Worse how? I talked to him about controlling himself the last time. What's the problem now?"
"He's talked back to the other teachers on numerous occasions and he questions authority constantly. He doesn't pay attention in class either. Mother Phillipa was hoping to speak to your mother today but I can see she isn’t here.”
I apologized again and went out where Arianna and Giulian where having a hushed animation. They were quiet when they noticed me.
“You want to tell me what this is all about?” I asked Giulian, wanting him to give his side of the story first. I wasn’t going to let whatever his wrong doings were slide, but I also wasn’t going to condemn him ahead. While Mamma was out working, the twins were my responsibility. They were just ten years old but they were growing up in a neighborhood filled with all drunks, drug addicts, thugs and loose women. I was going to make sure that they had a bright future hence, I kept them occupied for as long as I could with extra- curricular school lessons in music, art and the like. We were trying to get them a scholarship into a private middle school with a chance of a renowned high school which would open doors for college. Mamma was determined that the kids would have a better life than she did and that we would all leave this dump one day.
Arianna got that and she worked hard to always make us proud, Giulian did his part to but his rebellious streak and need to challenge authority in any and all forms made it a little hard. Not that I was condemning my brother, I just needed him to learn the prudence in backing down and turning his back on certain situations.
As predicted, his stubborn streak showed first. He looked away at the floor but said nothing and I didn’t want to have to pry it out of him. Arianna looked between us. I sat down and patted my knee, motioning her to come closer.
She came to me and I set her in my lap. “How about you, do you know what went on at school today?”
“I do,” she said smoothly, “but I can't say.”
“Can't or won’t, Ari?”
She thought it over before saying solemnly, “Can't.”
“Well, you know what Nonno always says. The bird that can sing and won’t sing must be made to sing.”
Her eyes widened, “I made a promise to Giulian, Angelo. A twin promise.”
“You promised not to tell Mama?” I asked and she nodded, “not even Nonno?” she nodded as well. “And not Angelo?’ this time, she was a little reluctant. I wasn’t going to make force her break her word either. “Arianna, if Giulian told you a secret and you swore a promise of secrecy I wouldn’t want you telling anyone at all. Not even me. But if Giulian did something wrong and he made you keep it a secret, would that be right?”
Arianna bit her lip uncertainly.
“You know what? Leave it. I’ll just hear it from Mother Phillippa.” I stood and prepared to walk away when Giulian called me back.
“Ok! Ok! I’ll tell.” I stopped but didn’t turn around until he came to stand by my side. “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, Angelo. I swear I wasn’t.”
“So what happened?”
“I drew some…pictures.”
This was not what I expected at all. “Pictures? What kind of pictures?”
“Um… fantasy ones. Like with dragons and stuff. Mother Phillippa saw me doing them during lunch and seized them.”
The pictures in question were another one of Giulian’s fantasy creations, they were amazing and so vivid, complete with every detail imaginable. Giulian might have had ADHD, but what he lacked, he more than made up for it with his pencil and paint brushes. This picture however, seemed a bit advanced for a child of ten, the dragon had his helpless victim whose gown was in shred with only tatters ti cover her modesty, chained to a rock in a compromising situation.
“And then what happened?” I asked.
“I said that she was being unfair to me and she had to give it back because I didn’t want her taking it. Then she called me a rude child who didn’t have regard for his elders.”
I sensed the direction his tale was taking and asked. “Did you say anything else to her?”
He nodded again. “I did, but I said it in Italian. I called her a stuck up, tight assed bitch who got off on bringing little kids down. I think she got the idea ‘cause she told me I was an uncouth and ungrateful child who needed to be taught a lesson.”
“Giuliano Leoluca Tallerico!” I exclaimed, watching him in amazement.
He folded his arms across his chest and stuck his chin out at me defiantly. “It’s not like it’s not true. I could’ve done a lot worse, you know. I could have called her a little whore who needed a f-” I placed my hand over his mouth before he could utter the word. I was not a prude and I wasn’t stuck up, but I knew that engaging in the same talk as trash did made you trash as well.
“Where do you get off using foul language like that, buono Signore?” I demanded angrily. “I’d call you an uncouth young man as well if I ever heard you talk like that.”
“Everyone at school talks that way as well,” Arianna said to me, ever loyal to her twin brother. You’d never believe they were the same children who tried to start World War Three at the dinner table over a drumstick.
I turned to face her. “So what if everyone at school talks that way, Arianna? Is your name Everyone or Everybody? Is it?’
She shook he head. “No.”
“That’s because you’re not just anybody. You’re a Tallerico, and the Tallericos are special.”
“Horse- crap” Giulian muttered
“You give me that disrespect again, Giuliano Tallerico and I’m going to really give you a reason to curse at people. Profanity is a mortal vice, he that uses it is no gentleman.” His gold eyes stared up at me, wet and confused. I was reminded yet again that he was still only a child. My baby brother and sister. I enveloped him in a bear hug and kissed his forehead.
“I was so mad, Angelo,” he said into my chest. “I was mad and I wasn’t thinking about what I said until it came out. I’d never call anyone that.”
“I know,” I murmured. “You’re like a little bull, but even then, you’ve got to learn respect Giulian. Mamma and Nonno taught us that.”
“They also taught us not to allow people disrespect us,” Arianna piped up, her little face in an indignant scowls. We all had Tallerico fire and pride in our blood. I pulled her into my embrace as well.
“You think people don’t disrespect me as well?” I said, remembering Madison Shepherd with her smile that could kill a man, and as well, Carson McQueen.
Arianna’s widened. “Who’d want to disrespect you Angelo? You never disrespect others and you’re so handsome.”
I smiled wryly. “You think that would count for something with others, but unfortunately, it doesn’t. people disrespect and hurt me as well too.”
“And you let them get away with it?” Arianna wanted to know.
“Sometimes, it’s the easier path. Harsh words and anger never solved anything for anyone.”
“Aren’t you afraid people are gonna think you’re a coward?” Giulian sniffed disdainfully.
“Do you think I’m a coward, Giulian?” I asked.
“Hell no!”
“What about you, Arianna? Do you think I’m a coward.” Arianna shook her head. “Well then if the most important people in the world to me know that, and I know it as well, then what’ve I got to lose?” I tipped his face to meet mine. “Respect and honor, Giuliano. That’s what the Tallericos are made of. Respect and honor.”
“Respect and honor,” he repeated after me.
I took his hand and led him to Mother Phillippa’s office. “You’re going to say, ‘Mother Phillippa, I’m sorry for my disrespect. Please forgive me.’ And you’re going to mean it. Mamma’s not raising rude children in her home and I sure as God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit am not going to allow you to shame the family.”
Giulian nodded, quite contrite. I could see his struggle, but we had all been taught to regard our elders especially when they were trying to steer us away from the destructive path of our foolish youth, as our beloved grandfather, Leoluca Tallerico would put it.
Mother Phillippa droned on and on about Our Lady Queen of Peace being a Christian institution that was trying to bring up goodly and God- fearing children in a society filled with vices of the devil. I noticed after a while, she seemed to use the words ‘fornication’ and ‘carnally-minded’ more regularly than was normal until I decided to tune them out. She painted as bleak a picture of my little brother as she could but she felt however obliged to state that it was Giulian’s refusal to hand over his drawing that had started the whole fiasco.
I called Giulian into the office and he gave his apology just as I had instructed.
“There, that’s how it should be,” Mother Phillippa said with a triumphant smirk. “The child must learn his place. It still however, does not excuse his impertinence.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, coolly. “We’ll talk to him at home.”
“If you do him right, you’ll spank him hard.”
I could feel my face redden with annoyance. I did not appreciate anyone telling us how to raise Giulian and Arianna and I would not stand for anyone raising a hand and striking them in anger, no matter what they had done. When her sermon was done, I promised to have a word with Giulian about his supposed ‘bad habits’ and left before her incensed office could nauseate me some more.
Giuliano and Arianna were ten year old twins and my half siblings. Their father was a Puerto Rican alcoholic who barged into mine and my mother’s lives when I was five years old. Enrique Vazquez was a nice enough man, during the first few months they had been together, that is. He had been good to my mother in the beginning, but then his true colors came out and he turned out to be a Godforsaken bastard with a nasty alcoholic and cocaine that wouldn't quit. His favorite hobbies second to getting hopelessly drunk and high on crack were terrorizing my mother and spewing his hatred onto me. One day, he disappeared and was never seen again. Good riddance to bad rubbish, in my opinion. We didn’t need him in our lives so we moved on and made our lives worthwhile without him. The twins hadn't seen their father in five years. Mama never complained though.
I loved Giulian and Arianna but today, their bickering and exuberance grated on my nerves. When we reached our home, Giulian ran out of the car and into the house, forgetting his bag and books.
"Take Giulian’s things in, per cortesia, Arianna?" I told my sister.
"Let him come out and get 'em himself," Arianna said coolly.
"It wouldn't hurt if you -"
"I'm not her slave" Arianna snapped, eyes flashing again, "besides, he was just bragging back at school about how boys are so much stronger than girls. So let Piccolo Signor Meraviglioso," which translated into ‘Little Mister Wonderful’, "carry his own bag pack!"
"Do it now, Arianna," I said in a tone that left no space for arguing, "I'm not in the mood for your own peculiar brand of Tallerico sass.”"
Arianna muttered something in Italian about doing as she pleased but took in her brother’s things.
Some days it was a God-given mercy I didn’t kill those children. Arianna has a bit of a fiery temper that was best left alone, not that Giulian didn’t try enough times. I had seen her knee a playground bully where the sun didn’t shine all because he pushed her out of her turn to get ice cream. Secretly, I had been proud because I taught her that move, but still she was a nice kid and the darling of the whole family. Giulian had his own temper to match and he paired it with this Usher Raymond and Michael Jackson thing he had going on. I smiled as I wondered what the nuns at Our Lady, Queen of Peace thought about their severe stubborn streaks and unwillingness to take anything lying down.
Once they both had showers, I made them some chicken noodle soup and promised them my special penne arriabita for dinner. I noticed Giulian had a scowl on his face and constantly averting his eyes. Finally I gripped his chin and forced him to look at me. Right there on the left side of his face was a purple bruise. I hadn’t seen it earlier at school because his hair had hid it.
"Giulian, what's this?" I sighed.
He jerked free and mumbled, "Nothin'."
"I told you, I don't want you fighting," I said sternly, "what was the matter today?"
"Mike Wilson called our Mamma names!" he cried, his lower lip trembling, "He said Mama was a dull little whore with no brains and no class and that's why I'm so stupid. And so I told him not to call my Mama names and I hit him!"
"Giuliano Leoluca Tallerico!" I said firmly, "You are not stupid. You hear me?"
Giulian sniffed, "He said it's why I can't read well."
I sighed again. Giuliano had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder when he three then he was found to be dyslexic two months later. He had to be put in a Special Education class and tried really hard to catch up with the other kids. I knew he sometimes felt inferior to his sister Arianna who was at the top of her class. I sat down and lifted him onto my knee. He had started crying softly and I wiped the tears away.
"Don't cry, Tesoro," I said softly. "Michael Wilson is always going to be a jerk but you can be the better guy. So what if you have dyslexia? You're doing great. You read the whole Chronicles of Narnia books this summer didn't you? And you did it all by yourself too. You read through all my Jules Verne books and now you’re taking on Charles Dickens. You’re a great boy." He smiled and wiped his tears away. "Giuliano Tallerico you are the coolest ten -year old I know,” I went on, “I mean nobody can bust a move like you and your drawings should be in a New York gallery so people can see how beautiful they are," I said truthfully, "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise ok?" he nodded and I tugged at his braid, "You don't hit nothing but books Tallerico, understand? Hitting a moron doesn't make you a man; it just makes you another moron."
He considered this then nodded.
"You know what?" he asked me.
"What?"
"Nothing," he grinned, "I'm just glad you're my brother Michelangelo."
I tousled his hair affectionately. After lunch, the twins ate and I dropped them at my grandfather's place before heading to my shift at the Kitchen.
I threw myself into my work thinking about what Mrs. Dreyfuss had said earlier on. Even though she had assured me, I was still very worried. I had a really late shift and ended up being the last person to leave. Calogero asked me to lock up and I continued with my studying. A light drizzle started, eventually escalating into a full blown storm. Stuck inside the restaurant, I looked around for something to amuse myself with and spotted the upright piano against the wall by the bars. It belonged to Carmelo but he didn't play anymore. We also had one like it back at home. Mama had made sure we all learnt and instructed us herself. I walked over and sat on the bench, running my fingers slowly over the ivory keys. I had tried teaching Giulian but he had been more interested in learning the moonwalk. I began to play one of my favorites; it was an old Italian ballad and was soon lost in my music.
Frantic knocking startled me out of my reverie. I looked up and saw a figure outside the restaurant in the rain peering in anxiously.
"We're closed!" I shouted but the figure remained and knocked again, harder this time.
Frowning, I went to check what it was. I was greeted with the sight of a soaking wet Madison Shepherd shivering in the rain. I wanted so badly to be furious with this girl but she looked so pitiful and frightened that I opened the door.
"Madison," I said with genuine concern, "what are you doing here?"
"Angelo! Please help me!" she sobbed and began crying.
Worried, I took hold of her shoulders, "Madison, what's happened? Tell me, tesoreria."
She began blubbering, "He came out of nowhere.... I didn't see him.... I hit him and ..."
"Calm down," I told her firmly, “Just breathe, ok. Now, tell me what it is, il mio piccolo."
She took my hand and dragged me to her car out in the rain. She popped the trunk open and there lay a sopping wet tabby cat. I blinked in surprise; sure my eyes were deceiving me. She reached for it and it hissed angrily at her. She put her hand over her mouth and began sobbing anew. The cat started mewling so I picked it up and carried it into the restaurant. I stroked the cat and it gradually quieted down.
"Is he gonna be ok?" Madison asked from behind me. I busied myself gathering supplies from the kitchen. I found a towel and dried the cat off then placed it on the radiator so it could get warm. I checked around its body and found no broken bones or scratches.
"He's going to be fine," I said simply, "no broken bones or cuts. He's just a little shook up." The cat pressed its nose into my palm and I chuckled, "and hungry too." I rummaged around the kitchen, found some cream and poured it into a bowl before setting it in front of our little friend. It proceeded to lap it up hungrily. I glanced at Madison and saw she was as pale as a sheet
"He's alright," I assured her, "and he's actually more terrified than you are."
"That's debatable," she answered softly.
"You can pet him," I told her, "nice and slow." The cat finished its meal and yawned,
Madison ran a hand over its silky fur making it purr contentedly.
"See?" I crooned, "No blood, no foul. I’m pretty sure he’s forgiven you." I looked at her hand and spotted three angry scratches undoubtedly from the cat. "Madison," I said quickly taking her hand. She looked embarrassed and tried to cover it up but I said firmly, "No, bella. Let me take care of it for you." I found the first aid kit and wet some cotton wool then dabbed the cuts as gently as I could but she still winced. I said, "I'm sorry. But there's no help for it. There." I placed a tiny kiss on the area, "That should make it better, si?"
I wrapped the hand in warm bandages. I looked at her eyes, blue eyes that made me think of sunny days, and then my gaze travelled to her soft, pink lips. Her cheeks bloomed with color and she lowered her lashes, shivering softly. I frowned in disapproval. "You're soaking wet, Madison. You'll get pneumonia, you know."
I pulled off my white button down shirt, grateful I wore a black tank underneath. I handed it to her, "You should get out of those wet clothes."
She mumbled thanks and ducked into the kitchen to change. I stroked the pet some more and said, "Maybe you won't go jay-walking next time, huh?" it yawned lazily and I turned my head in time to see Madison with her back turned to me, peel off the wet top to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, flawless fair skin and a red lacy bra. My pulse began to go mad and I swallowed then turned my head away instantly.
The cat mewed accusingly.
"What?" I asked it defensively. "I didn't see anything."
Madison came out wearing my shirt. "Feel better?" I asked and she nodded.
"Uh huh, thanks Angelo." she came and sat on the stool beside me. "You know you're really good with him. Do you have a cat at home?"
"I have a way with animals," I said ruefully. I decided that if I was going to play the Good Samaritan, I might as well play it well and to the end."Have you had dinner yet? I could fix you up something real quick?"
"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile. I went into the kitchen and found the fixings for some fried chicken. In less than twenty minutes it was done. I set a plate in her front and poured her some apple cider.
"Thank you," she said and her eyes filled.
"Don't begin it again," I said softly and I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at me in surprise as I used my thumb to wipe away a tear that slipped from her eye. "Come on, Madison. I think you do a good deal of crying more than is good for you." She smiled and I felt something stirring inside me. Something that had been buried a long time and frankly, was unwelcome. I nodded to her food. "Come on. Eat up."
She took a bite and her brows shot up in surprise. "Angelo this is wonderful."
I lifted a shoulder, "Mamma didn't raise no fool." She smiled and promptly finished it up. I
took the plates back in to the kitchen. When I came out, she smiled again at me. I caught my breath as that unwelcome sensation fluttered in the pit of my stomach again.
"Thank you," she said.
"Don't think on it," I said coolly. I sat down facing away from her. I was suddenly angry. Angry at Madison for all the trouble she had put me in, angry at the humiliation I had suffered because of she and Carson and furious with myself for succumbing to her touch once again. Furious for feeling this way about a girl I had no right over.
The silence in the room screamed like a harpy at me.
Finally she spoke, "Angelo.... about, you know... Carson -"
"Don't say it Madison!"'I cut her off sharply. Unable to keep it in anymore, I stood and faced her angrily. "You know, I don't know what upsets me more Madison- the fact that you and Carson turned me into the laughing-stock of the whole school or the fact that you simply cannot just leave well enough alone."
Her eyes filled at my harsh words, "I didn't mean it, Angelo."
"You didn't mean it? Then why in the name of Holy Sicily did you do it?” I shouted angrily. "You realize you're not just messing with me? Suddenly, I find out that because of your little stunt and Carson's lies, I could lose my scholarship," I curled my lip in disgust. "But you wouldn't know anything about that because in your case Daddy could just pick up the tab. Well not with me, Madison Shepherd, because now you're not just screwing with my scholarship, you’re screwing with my life!"
By now Madison was sobbing. "I'm so sorry, Angelo," was all she could say but even that couldn't pacify me, it just served to enraged me the more.
"Oh you're sorry? That's helps!" I spat harshly. "Sorry doesn't get me back my reputation now does it, Madison?" When the tears continued to fall I said rather coldly, "I suggest you save your tears Madison for an occasion that truly deserves them.”
She wiped her eyes, "Angelo I really am sorry and I know you have every right to be furious with me but -”
I raised a hand to stop her apologizing because I didn't need it. Shaking my head I said, "What's done is done, Madison. All that's left now is damage control." The tears didn't stop coming then, and I muttered under my breath, now guilty for them. “I’m sorry I raised my voice. Please don’t cry.”
She pressed her lips grimly then tried again, "Maybe I can make it up to you."
"I sincerely doubt that," I scoffed.
"When did you get so cynical?" she muttered to herself.
I thought on it. "I'm not cynical," I said at last, "And if I am, I believe I have earned the right." I raised my hand and touched her cheek. “Va bene, piccolo amare. It’s fine now. I let it go and I buried the matter.” When her lip trembled, I cupped her neck and forced her head to my shoulder where I petted her the way I would Arianna. Why was her hair so soft and silky? Why did her skin tease me with the scent of vanilla and lavender and why did I want to press a kiss to it? I needed to get a hold of the situation but something warned me that it I let it go on much longer, I would lose control of something much more valuable.
The storm had quieted down and she said, "I think I should go now."
"Yes, you should," I agreed quietly. I released her, sorry to lose the feel of her in my arms.
She picked up the sleeping cat and hesitated for a minute. "Um... Thanks Angelo."
I nodded wordlessly. She left the restaurant, got into her car and drove away. I watched her car leave and squeezed my eyes shut. Her vanilla and peaches scent still lingered in the restaurant and on my skin.
"When did you get so cynical?" she had asked. I gave a bitter laugh.
I became cynical right when you looked me in the eye and told me you picked that snake Carson McQueen.
I scowled; I was behaving like some love-sick teenager, a stupid love-sick teenager. So what if Madison had picked Carson over me? There was no point in feeling ill-used. She and I now belonged on different sides of the boundary.