Love & Gelato(27)

“I’m Valentina.”

“Livi.”

“Marcello.”

Half of them reached out to pat me. Did they think I was a hologram?

I stumbled backward. “Nice to . . . meet you all.”

“Guys, quit mouth-breathing on her!” Ren shoved a couple of people back. “You’re acting like you never meet anyone new.”

“We don’t,” a boy with braces said.

They started raining questions.

“How long have you been here?”

“Are you going to AISF in the fall?

“Why didn’t you start school last year?”

“Was that really tall man your dad?”

I took another step back. “Um . . . which one do you want me to answer first?”

They all laughed.

“Where do you live? In Florence?” It was a redheaded girl on my left working on a big wad of gum. She sounded like she was from New Jersey or somewhere.

“My house is kind of near Ren’s.”

“It’s in the American Cemetery,” Ren clarified.

I shot him a look. Way to make me the weirdo.

He patted my arm. “Don’t worry. Everyone here lives in weird places.”

They all started chiming in.

“My family is renting a medieval castle in Chianti.”

“We live in a farmhouse.”

“William lives at the American Consulate. Remember when his sister ran over that foreign dignitary’s foot with a Razor scooter?”

An Italian boy with shoulder-length hair stepped forward. “Ragazzi, she will think we are very strange. Sorry for all the questions.”

“It’s fine,” I said.

“No, we’re weird. We don’t meet new people all that often. We’re totally sick of each other,” a Hispanic-looking girl on my left said.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around me and I was lifted off my feet. “Hey!”

“Marco! Down, boy!” Ren yelled.

“Heel!” Gum Chewer said.

Was Marco a Rottweiler? I wriggled away and turned to see a muscly guy with short black hair.

“Ren, introduce me. Now,” he bellowed.

“Lina, this is Marco. Now forget you ever met him. Trust me, you’ll be better off.”

He grinned. “You’re really here! I knew you would come. I knew it all along.”

“Wait a minute. Are you my biology partner?”

“Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air, then put his arms around me again and gave me another one of his specialty python hugs.

“Can’t. Breathe,” I gasped.

“Let her go,” Ren commanded.

Marco loosened his grip, shaking his head sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m normally not like this.”

“Yes, you are,” the dark-haired girl said.

“No, it’s this beer.” He held his can out to me. “I don’t know who brought it, but it’s disgusting. It tastes kind of like a urinal, you know?”

“Not really.”

“That’s okay. I’d offer you a drink, but I just told you it tastes like piss. By the way, you’re really cute. Like way cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“. . . Thanks?”

“Hey! Margo! Who’s your papa?” He turned and loped away.

“Wow,” I said.

Ren shook his head. “Sorry about that. I wish I could say it’s because he’s drunk, but he’s actually worse when he’s sober.”

“Much, much worse,” a short boy with glasses chimed in.

“There you are.” A cool voice cut through the noise, and I turned and came face-to-face with an exquisitely pretty girl. She was tall and slim with big blue eyes and hair so blond it was almost white. She was looking straight through me.

“Hi, Mimi. Welcome back.” Ren’s voice was suddenly like three octaves lower.

“I was worried you weren’t going to make it tonight,” she said in an accented voice. Swedish? Norwegian? Someplace where everyone has good skin and silky, well-behaved hair?

“Everyone says you haven’t been around much.”

“I’m here now.”

“Good. I missed you.” She lifted her chin at me, her eyes still fixed on Ren. “Who’s this?”

“Carolina. She just moved here.”

“Hi. I go by Lina.”

She slid her eyes at me for about a millimeter of a second, then leaned in to Ren and whispered something.

“Si, certo.” He glanced at me. “Just . . . later. Give me a few minutes.”

She walked away, and it was like the whole group exhaled.

“Ice queen,” someone whispered.

“She’s really gorgeous,” I said to Ren.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He grinned like someone had just offered him a lifetime supply of pink Starbursts. I’d definitely misread that moment at the gingerbread house when he’d held my hand. If Mimi was what he was used to, then forget it.

“Hey, come on. I want to show you something.”

“Okay. So . . . see you around?” I said to the rest of the people.

“Ciao, ciao,” one of them said.

Ren was already halfway across the room.