When in Rome by Amabile Giusti Read Free Book Online

conversations? For us, blood has become water.
    “How’s your love life?” she asks after a while, as we’re stopped at a traffic light. It’s almost sunset. The streets are swarming with cars, and traffic roars like a metal leviathan.
    “It’s great,” I say firmly.
    “I’m going to venture a guess, given your business success, that you’ve managed to snag Johnny Depp.”
    “Even better.”
    “Tell me, tell me. I’m all ears!” She laughs this time, mocking me. We’re almost to my place.
    “I’m engaged to a wonderful guy. Johnny Depp pales in comparison. We’ll be married soon. But your invitation might get lost and not arrive until after the wedding.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Luca,” I say without thinking. Damn it! I shouldn’t have done that . . . Since we were teenagers, Erika has stolen everything from me. If I got a new dress or a new book, Erika had to have it, too. She didn’t have to put up too much of a fuss either, because our mother was always willing to bestow beautiful things on her princess, more so than the pauper. So Erika would get two dresses and a subscription to Top Girl magazine. Later she began to steal boys, if she knew I really liked them. All I had to do was let one little comment escape about how I was vaguely interested in someone, and she’d jump on him, all claws and curves. He’d end up feeding her insatiable appetite. If she knew about Luca, she’d stop at nothing to get her hands on him. And Luca, who can’t say no to any beautiful woman who offers herself to him, would jump at the chance to indulge. No, no, no! Luca is mine!
    I hurry out of the car, clutching the seedling, to avoid further interrogation. Luckily Erika doesn’t understand. She thinks I’m hurrying to avoid being forced to reveal my lie. But even though it’s a lie, and Luca is just a seductive hallucination, a dream that will only come true when pigs fly, it’s also true. It’s true that he exists, it’s true that I love him, and it’s true that I have to protect him from Erika’s clutches.
    I leave without saying good-bye, and for the first time I’m glad I see sarcastic distrust in her eyes. Don’t believe me? Then get out of here! But I still wonder, as I climb the stairs, why? Why are we so different? Why does a bridgeless abyss separate us? We were always together, practically attached at the hip, when we were little. She always followed me around, first crawling, then taking small, hesitant steps. She would draw stories about dragons and wizards, and I’d create puppet shows out of them—she’d laugh and clap her hands.
    Then the spell broke. As we grew older, she became more and more beautiful, and I remained ordinary. That created a real gap between us. Our mother took her under her wing, while Dad and I hung back, as if she and Erika had gotten parts in a movie we’d been cut from because we weren’t good enough. The only things I have left to remind myself of how we used to be are some pictures that I confess I still have in a nightstand drawer. I don’t look at them often, but I need to know they’re there, that those memories are real, and that it wasn’t all a dream. Maybe one day we’ll get back to the way we were.
    I open the front door with a strange feeling of turmoil brewing in my chest. Feeling defeated, I’m almost tempted to call up Erika and ask her, “Remember how we used to be? Tell me what happened and whose fault it was.” But then, when I get inside, I find Luca walking around with a towel around his waist, fresh out of the shower. As usual. When his hair is wet, it almost reaches his shoulders. That chest could have been carved by Michelangelo. He’s half-naked, talking on the phone with God knows who. He smiles at me, and my insides turn to mush.
    There’s no doubt about it. Erika, stay the hell away. I’ve had it with your little games. Don’t even think about putting the shadow of the nail of your little finger on Luca. He may never be