Love & Gelato(5)

Nooo, thank you. “Well, I’m pretty tired, so . . .” I edged toward the door.

He took the hint, handing me a cell phone along with a slip of paper. “I wrote down instructions for dialing the States. You have to put in a country code as well as an area code. Let me know if you have any trouble.”

“Thanks.” I put the paper in my pocket.

“Good night, Lina.”

“Good night.”

He turned and walked down the hall, and I opened the door and dragged my suitcase into the room, feeling my shoulders sag with the relief of finally being alone. Well, you’re really here, I thought, just you and your four thousand new friends. There was a lock on the door and I turned it with a satisfying click. Then I slowly turned around, steeling myself for whatever Howard had meant by “really nice.” But then my heart practically stopped, because wow.

The room was perfect. Soft light glowed from this adorable gold lamp on the nightstand, and the bed was antique-looking, with about a thousand decorative pillows. A painted desk and dresser sat on opposite sides of the room, and a large oval mirror hung on the wall next to the door. There were even a bunch of picture frames standing empty on the nightstand and dresser, like they were waiting for me to fill them up.

I stood there staring for a minute. It was just so me. How was it possible that someone who hadn’t even met me had managed to put together my perfect bedroom? Maybe things weren’t going to be so bad—

And then a gust of wind blew into the room, drawing my attention to the large open window. I’d ignored my own rule: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. I walked over and stuck my head out. The headstones gleamed in the moonlight like rows of teeth, and everything was dark and eerily silent. No amount of pretty could make up for a view like that.

I pulled my head back in, then took the slip of paper out of my pocket. Time to start plotting my escape.





Chapter 2




SADIE DANES MAY BE ONE of the worst people on the planet, but she’ll always have a special place in my heart. After all, I owe her my best friend.

It was the beginning of seventh grade. Addie had just moved to Seattle from Los Angeles, and one day after gym class she’d overheard Sadie make a comment about how some of our classmates didn’t actually need bras. Which, be real—we were in seventh grade; only about one percent of us actually needed bras. It’s just that I was particularly less in need of one, and everyone knew she’d meant me. While I’d just ignored her (i.e., stuck my twelve-year-old head in my locker and blinked back tears), Addie had taken it upon herself to clothesline Sadie on her way out of the locker room. She’d stuck up for me that day and then never stopped.

“Go away. It might be Lina.” Addie’s voice sounded distant, like she was holding the phone away from her face. “Hello?” she said into the speaker.

“Addie, it’s me.”

“Lina! IAN, GET AWAY FROM ME.” There was some muffled yelling and then what sounded like a Mexican knife fight going on between her and her brother. Addie had three older brothers, and rather than baby her, it seemed they’d unanimously agreed to treat her as one of the guys. It explained a lot about her personality.

“Sorry,” she said when she was finally back on the phone. “Ian’s an idiot. Someone ran over his phone, and now my parents say I have to share mine. I don’t care what happened. I am not giving his caveman friends my phone number.”

“Oh, come on, they’re not that bad.”

“Stop it. You know they are. This morning I walked in on one of them eating our cereal. He’d poured an entire box into a mixing bowl and was eating it with a soup ladle. I don’t think Ian was even home.”

I smiled and shut my eyes for a moment. If Addie were a superhero, her power would be Ability to Make Your Best Friend Feel Normal. Those first dark weeks after the funeral, she’d been the one to get me out of the house on runs and insist I do things like eat and shower. She was the kind of friend you knew you couldn’t possibly deserve.

“Hold up. Why are we wasting time talking about Ian’s friends? I’m assuming you’ve met Howard.”

I opened my eyes. “You mean my father?”

“I refuse to call him that. We didn’t even know he was your father until like two months ago.”

“Less,” I said.

“Lina, you’re killing me. What’s he like?”

I glanced at my bedroom door. Music was still playing downstairs, but I lowered my voice anyway. “Let’s just say I need to get out of here. Right away.”

“What do you mean? Is he a creep?”

“No. He’s actually kind of okay. And he’s like NBA tall, which is surprising. But that’s not the bad part.” I took in a deep breath. She needed the full dramatic effect. “He’s the caretaker of a cemetery. Which means I have to live in a cemetery.”

“WHAT?”

I was ready for her outburst, holding the phone a good three inches from my ear.

“You have to live in a cemetery? Is he like a gravedigger or something?” She whispered the last part.

“I don’t think they do burials here anymore. All the graves are from World War II.”

“Like that’s any better! Lina, we have to get you out of there. It isn’t fair. First you lose your mom, and then you have to move halfway across the world to live with some guy who suddenly claims to be your father? And he lives in a cemetery? Come on, that’s too much.”