“It’s not worth it,” he says. He stands, abruptly, pulls on his jeans, and storms out. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”
So I hold my pillow tightly, listening to the shouts from the busy street outside, and beg for sleep to come.
THIRTY-TWO
When we step on the bus from Florence to Siena, there are only two pairs of side-by-side seats together. Ajay grabs one, and Pierce forces himself in the second.
I look back to Dani. “I guess we’ll take the other one.”
We put our stuffed backpacks up above our seats, and sit. I’m still on edge from last night—a lack of sleep and two double shots of espresso from an Italian espresso bar will do that for you.
Pierce hasn’t said much, and I wonder if I should go apologize.
“Issues?” Dani says. When I turn, I see she was looking at me eye Pierce and Ajay’s seats. She’s smiling.
“I guess you could say that,” I say. “It’s becoming clear I have no idea what happens in relationships.”
She pauses. It’s a thoughtful pause. Or it’s a worrisome pause.
“Pierce doesn’t either. Fuck, me and Ajay are going on three months, and I still have no idea what’s going on.”
It makes me laugh. I savor that moment, because it’s been far too long since I’ve smiled.
The bus takes off toward Siena, and the view changes drastically once we leave Florence. Winding hills and ancient villas with clay-tiled roofs flank us, the greenery doubles, and it all feels calmer. People go about their days here, their normal lives, not knowing how freaking amazing it is to live in a place like this.
“Can you imagine being, like, a farmer here?” I say. “You come out, check on your crops, and take this stunning view for granted every day.”
“I get that. Malta is a little bit of Italy, a weirder kind of Italy. It’s like a few of the rejects came to the island and started building houses on top of each other. You have the beautiful, resort-level buildings and areas devolving into slums, but the views are amazing.”
“Do you miss it there?”
“Yes and no. I don’t think I can get a job back home, so I hope to get one here. And Malta’s so overpopulated it’s probably for the best.”
I smile. “I’d like to go to Malta. Do you speak Italian there?”
“Most people in the city speak English; everyone else speaks Maltese. It’s a mix of Italian and Arabic. It’s cute.”
I pick the hints of Arabic from her voice, the lilt in her speech, the shhhh hiding in every consonant.
“How’s your composing going?” I ask. “Still working on a few pieces?”
“Haven’t had much time, but I think I’ve got one piece I’m happy with.” She pauses. “That reminds me—let’s busk in the town center in Siena. Pierce doesn’t want to, and Ajay didn’t bring his electric piano.”
“I can’t imagine why he didn’t bring a piano on the plane.” I laugh. “But, um, sure.”
After feeling a little left out back when Dani played on the streets of Cardiff, I decided to bring my oboe. The thought of playing in front of so many people again, in a new city, is terrifying. But I’m ready to push myself out of my comfort zone. Not because anyone’s making me, but because I want to.
“We can just alternate our memorized pieces. Whatever you’ve been working on for auditions should be fine. I’m going to have Ajay record mine, so he can do yours too if you’re still working on a portfolio.”
“Why doesn’t Pierce want to?”
“We used to do it a lot earlier in the summer.” She shakes her head. “But I don’t know, Marty. He’s the master of self-sabotage.”
THIRTY-THREE
Siena has the beauty of Florence, the hills of Kentucky, and the square footage of a two-bedroom apartment. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it’s small. Within an hour, we’ve done a citywide tour de gelato, and I’ve already got my postcard. There’s not much else to do here but explore and walk around, so we do those things.
We walk along the Fortezza Medicea, a fort dating back to the 1500s. It’s old, not Cardiff Castle old, but it’ll do. The structure is a large rectangle of clay brick, elevated up a zillion stairs.
“Bored,” Ajay says.
“I’m with you,” Pierce says.
I walk out, toward the center of the plaza. “You can’t really feel the history here, compared to the rest of the town, but it’s a beautiful space. And look at all of these people jogging.”