In case you've got a parental streak, you needn't worry – I didn't come home that night very late. No, in fact I came home quite early. Okay, it was early the next morning (somewhere around two am I believe) but what did you expect? It was my first date!

Giacomo insisted on accompanying me home, which didn't particularly increase my speed on the way back. You can't really walk very fast while you're pressing yourself as close as possible against somebody else and try to get him to kiss you. Really, try it. It doesn't work. Giacomo was upset by my slow pace. Even though it was in the small hours of the morning, he seemed to feel a compulsive need to have me home early, as if that would make my sneaking out to see a derelict for a date less outrageous. When I tried to stop for a quick kiss for the third time, he had enough and threatened to carry me the rest of the way home. To which I replied that would be fine with me since that way, I would be conveniently closer to my aim. He grumbled something Italian and started to pull me along instead of carrying me.

I had hoped Giacomo would accompany me to my room, or at least to the window. But no. He wouldn't go within a hundred yards of my house. As soon as it was in sight he stopped, wishing me good night, and no amount of begging on my part could make him come one step closer.

“This is stupid,” I grumbled. “Why won't you come?”

“Angela.” He said my name. Nothing more.

“What?”

“Angela, don't you see? I feel guilty enough as it is. I couldn't...” He broke off.

“Guilty?” As I stared up at him, my eyes were angry, hurt, demanding. “Why guilty? Is it such a terrible thing, wanting to see me? Are you ashamed of me?”

“No!” His hands were suddenly cupping my face. “No, that's not what I meant, of course not! It's just... I can't justify doing this. You're so young... so innocent in the ways of the world. I feel guilty because it seems so easy for someone like me to make a young girl to be attracted.”

“You didn't make me do anything. I want this!”

“That's exactly why I feel guilty,” he whispered. “You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't have to go through the things you're going through. You shouldn't have to keep secrets from the ones you love. I feel terrible enough for taking you from your home in the middle of the night. I simply can't come near your home. It would feel wrong, terribly wrong. The guilt increases with every step, the thought of your parents... if they knew – what would they say?”

I could imagine what they would say. It was colorful, and probably worse than his worst imaginings. Instead of telling him that, I put my arms around his waist.

“It doesn't matter what they would say.”

“But it does!” Giacomo's voice was almost a snarl.

“No. It only matters what I think.”

“And what do you think?”

I think that I never want to let go of you. And I think that that's stupid, because you're a stranger to me, and tell me to my face that you won't let me into your life and into your secrets. And I think that I probably can't help it, anyway, because I've never felt the way about anyone I do about you. And, oh yes, I also happen to think that you are the hottest guy in whole wide world, but that's just a bonus.

“I think that I would like you to come to my house with me,” I said and saw him shaking his head. But before he could say anything I continued: “But I know that probably won't happen, so I think that I deserve a goodby kiss.”

A smile crept onto his full lips.

“You deserve everything good in the world.”

“Thanks. I'll settle for a kiss.”

Exasperated, he shook his head.

“Angela, you really should get going. It's late.”

“No it isn't. Not anymore.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not when I don't want to.”

“Angela...”

“There's no point in arguing. You might as well do it, or I'll stand here until dawn. Or,” I said, inspiration hitting me, “you could deliver on your threat and carry me the rest of the way. That would be fine.”

He rolled his eyes and then bent down towards me, which was fine too.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

When I finally was in my room again, I looked around. The posters on the wall, the messy desk with exercise books strewn about, the bookshelves which mostly held CDs with dancing music, the heaps of plush toys – all of that suddenly seemed strangely alien. I admit that the plush toys – presents from my parents, probably in the hope that I would turn out to be just as cuddly – had always seemed as if they belonged on a different planet. Or perhaps in a different galaxy. But all the rest... this stuff symbolized all my life had been up to this point. Now my life held something new. Something my parents could never know of. Something wonderful. Something slightly frightening.

Slowly, I sat down on the bed and started to contemplate my future. It was something I had never really done – apart from wondering in which subjects I would get the worst grades. Everything else had always been decided for me, by my parents, my teachers, and other stupid people who thought that being more than five feet tall gave them some sort of special rights. I hadn't liked it. But I hadn't really expected it to change for some years.

Now, everything had changed.

I let myself fall back onto my bed. Staring at the slanted ceiling above me, I thought about boys and girls, and the one boy that had changed everything for me. In spite of his tall, imposing figure and adult appearance, I couldn't help thinking of him in that way. To me he was a boy. The boy who sometimes seemed so young and forlorn I wished I could shield him from all the evil of the world. The boy that was without home and hope in the dark. The boy who had touched my heart.

He was no normal boy, I knew that. Just as I wasn't a normal girl anymore. Normal girls met their guys at school, and started with a date at the cinema. Normal girls told their parents about the people they were dating. Normal girls... I struggled to think it: Normal girls knew the people they were dating, knew their past, their family, their lives. Knew who they really were.

Yes, one thing was for sure: I was not normal. Giacomo would or could not come out of the shadows. Could I demand for him to do so? Demand that he tell me his secrets? But what if... what if... the thought was almost too painful to think: what if he wouldn't? What if instead, he would leave?

With my right hand I clutched my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. 'It's all right,' I chanted to myself. 'He's not leaving. He's not going anywhere. He's not leaving. He's not going anywhere.'

It took me a few seconds before I realized that my left hand had gripped one of the plush toys for comfort. My lips twitched a tiny little bit as I pulled the toy up to my face and stared at it. It stared back at me with vacant black button eyes.

“He's not leaving!” I said out loud. Was I talking to myself now, or to the toy? In any case, it didn't answer. “He isn't going anywhere! You saw that look in his eyes just before he kissed you, right? That has to mean something!?”

Except that I couldn't know. Perhaps he would leave. Perhaps whatever had been in his past was more important to him than I was. Important? What was I thinking anyway? The guy had just known me for a few weeks! We had kissed once or twice, but that was it, really. Why should I expect that this meant much to him, just because it had meant the world, the universe and everything else in several parallel dimensions to me? I couldn't expect it. I couldn't know – because I didn't really know Giacomo. He was a mystery to me and would remain so. I would be lying to myself if I had denied that this made him even more alluring and sexy than he already was. He was a mystery – one that I wanted to unravel. I wanted to see into the darkest corners of his soul, because I wanted him, darkness and all.

However, he would not let me in; I was sure of that. Could I live with that? Could I look into his eyes while I kissed him, not knowing who was staring back at me?

The answer came in a blink, slightly sad and foreboding, but also unrelentingly determined: “Of course I can – if it means I can be with him!”

Somehow I got the impression that this time, the plushie seemed to agree with me. And I knew why:

Because somewhere deep down, I did know him. I knew him to be the strongest, kindest, most compassionate boy I had ever come across in my life. I knew him to be able to make my heart race with a touch and make my spirit sing with a single smile. I knew him to be Giacomo, my Giacomo. And I knew that I wanted him – wanted him forever.

Did that end the fear? No. It only meant I had to face it, come what may. Whatever may.

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Hi!
I wanted to depict some of Angela's inner feelings this time :) How did I do? :)

Cheers

Rob