Again, But Better(28)

* * *



Back at the flat, Babe and I retire to the kitchen to work on our laptops. When I pull up Safari, it opens to Facebook where I have twenty-three new notifications—probably people liking my Rome pictures.

I smile, opening them, but my insides shrivel when I see who the majority are from: Leo, Alfie, Anthony, Angelo. Not just likes, comments. I race down to the first one and open it in a new window. It’s the picture of Pilot and me in the Pantheon. They all liked it.

Leo Primaveri Who’s this?

Alfie Primaveri Breaking News: Shane’s with a dude.

Anthony Primaveri No. Fucking. Way.

Leo Primaveri Do you actually speak to each other?

Alfie Primaveri Can’t wait for the wedding.





I’m gonna throw up.

Babe’s voice. “Shane? Are you okay?”

Pilot’s tagged in this photo. I’m gonna die. My mouse scrambles up: Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. I speed back to the notifications and open another. There’s a post on my wall from Leo and Alfie’s mom, my aunt Marie.

Marie Primaveri

Miss you, sweetie! It looks like you’re having a great time. Leo tells me you have a boyfriend out there. I hope it’s the cutie in the pictures!




The computer’s pulled away from my face. “Shane, seriously, you’ve been muttering no repeatedly for, like, a solid sixty seconds.”

I pull it back. “Sorry, family thing,” I mumble. I pick it up and run out of the kitchen. I hear my chair fall, but there’s no time to stop. This is dire.

I slam into a seat at our bedroom table and delete the post. Another new notification pops up from Leo. He’s online. He posted on my wall.

Leo Primaveri

You deleted our comments about your new boyfriend? I’m hurt.




Delete.

Another new notification on my wall.

Leo Primaveri

You keep deleting my posts about your boyfriend. What’s his name—Pilot?




Delete. Angry tears sting my eyes. Why is Leo leading this parade? I sit back up, opening a private thread in Facebook Chat.

Shane

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Leo

Relax, cuz, just having fun.




“Ahhh!” I scream at the screen. It’s one thing to do this when we’re at a family party—I swallow at the lump in my throat and type.

Shane

GET THE HELL OFF MY PROFILE, ASSHOLE.

Leo

Whoa, calm down, you don’t curse.

Shane

I THINK I JUST DID.

Shane

ONE MORE COMMENT AND I’LL BLOCK YOU.




A new notification pops up. Another post on my wall for the world to see.

Leo Primaveri

BITCH.




A tear sears down my cheek. Delete. I storm through Facebook. Leo: Block. Alfie: Block. Angelo: Block. Anthony: Block.

I return to the kitchen ten minutes later. Babe’s still here. She looks up from her laptop as I settle back into the chair across from her. She must have picked it up for me.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, pushing a dark curl behind her ears. She’s wearing adorable gold Mickey-shaped studs.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I took care of it,” I breathe. Babe rises from her seat, comes behind my chair, and wraps me in an awkward hug.

“I don’t think he saw,” she says quietly.

She saw. My face burns.

Babe sits back down and tells me that her older brother is constantly making fun of her obsession with Disney. She tries to make me feel better. “Pilot’s been in class. We don’t have smartphones here; he probably didn’t see.”

She’s right. She’s probably right.

I throw myself into proofreading the “That Time I Lost My Passport” blog post about Rome. Babe lingers with me. I’m pretty sure she’s just waiting for Pilot to get back, so she can ask him about Paris. Now, there’s the added bonus of finding out if he saw the stuff on Facebook. He finally strides in at 4:00 p.m., a few minutes after I publish the Rome piece.





12. Has He Heard?



“Hey!” Pilot greets us. Normal inflection. Good sign.

We hey back casually. At least I try to. I think my eyes are a little too wide to really pull it off. He’s carrying a store-bought frozen dinner that he pops out of its cardboard box and throws into the microwave before dropping into the seat at the head of the table. Babe and I are seated on either side of him.

“So how’s it going?” Babe asks tentatively.

“Good, good! I got my internship confirmed this morning so that was good,” he answers normally.

“Me too!” I interject.

“Nice!” he adds with a grin/head-bob combo. He’s wearing a red-and-black plaid shirt with a black T-shirt layered underneath. I nod, relaxing slightly.

Babe smiles at me like see, we’re fine before turning back to him. “I’m trying to plan a trip to Paris for this weekend! You want to come?”

Pilot glances at me and then back at Babe. “Uh, yeah, I’m down. Who else is going?”

“Shane and me and my friend Chad—so far!” The room’s slowly filling with the delicious smell of Italian food as the microwave defrosts Pilot’s meal.