Chapter 3

I sat at a booth in the corner of the café, leaning on my arm and distractedly stirring my tea as I reflected on the events of the morning. I was surprised to find that my eyes were wet. I quickly swiped at them.

Come on, Julia, you should be used to this by now. You have to leave every Saturday morning! It's not anything new.

I peered at my bag beside me, which contained things to occupy my time for the morning: my swimsuit if I wanted to return to the beach, the unforsakable iPod, books from college.

If only my mother hadn't borrowed my car!

But I suppose I could walk to the library. It wasn't so far away.

I pushed back the plate of fruit before me and stared out the window again, looking past the blooming May flowers to my own reflection. The glass revealed that I looked upset, my blue eyes stormy, and my brown wavy hair falling forward in an attempt to hide my flushed face. I pushed it behind my shoulders and smiled a little at myself, straightening and trying to regain my usual cheerfulness.

But thoughts and memories clouded my head, and I rubbed my eyes with my fists, trying to push them out of my mind.

When I moved my hands, someone was sliding into the seat in front of me, and I jumped.

Then I brightened at the handsome face and disarming smile before me, sitting up quickly and smiling back.

"Good morning, Julia."

"Goodness, Piero, you scared me! What are you doing here!?"

"I wanted to get some breakfast before going to the recording studio. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Oh, no, please do!"

The waiter came over and greeted him, and after ordering breakfast he leaned forward and smiled at me.

"So what are you up to today, Julia?"

"Not much, actually. My mother borrowed my car, so I can't go anywhere beyond walking distance."

"You walked here? Where do you live?"

I gave him the address, and he raised his eyebrows.

"That's a pretty far walk. Why not go to a closer café?"

I shrugged and avoided his gaze, returning to absentmindedly stirring the tea. He quietly watched me.

His food came and he ate. He tried to make conversation with me, and he cheered me up a little. I spoke with him cheerfully, but it wasn't long before I slipped back into my pensive mood. I continued to speak cheerfully, but I think he could see through the façade. My mind was elsewhere, reflecting, wondering, worrying, and I spoke less and less until he stopped speaking and let me think. Though I unintentionally didn't acknowledge him much after that, I was immensely grateful for his company, and when he smiled at me he made me feel a little less somber.

"Julia."

"Hmmm?"

"Look at me."

Surprised, I sat up and looked into his handsome brown eyes. He wasn't smiling or cheerful anymore, and he regarded me with a rather concerned look.

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You seem a little sad."

"Do I? Oh, I don't mean to."

"No, but I can still see it. Tell me, Julia, what's troubling you? I've been watching you, and you're being very…reflective. You're thinking about something you don't want to be thinking about. What is it?"

My gaze wandered out the window again, and he reached out across the table and gently took my hand in his. I looked down at his strong, gentle hand holding my small, pale one. He rubbed the back of my hand tenderly with his thumb, and I looked up at him and shook my head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't tell you."

"You can tell me."

"It's a bit over your head, Piero."

"Try me."

I shook my head again.

"Leave it alone. I'm okay."

He quietly stared at me, and then released my hand and took out his wallet, dropping enough money on the table for both of our breakfasts.

He stood and reached his hand down to me, and I slung my bag over my shoulder and took it.

He pulled me up and we walked together out of the café, into the bright, warm sunlight.

"Since you don't have your car, I'll drive you home, okay?"

I froze, and he stopping walking and turned to me, studying my face.

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

"I can't go home," I admitted softly.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Why not?"

"I…"

I looked down at my shoes.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on my back, making me look up at him.

"Then where will you go?"

"I don't know yet."

"I can't leave you here."

"Yes you can. I've been coming here every Saturday. At least for a while, then I go to the library or somewhere to pass the time."

"Every Saturday? But why? Why can't you go home?"

I looked apologetically into his eyes and kept my mouth shut.

He sighed and turned to unlock the car door. Then he turned back to me and gently placed a hand on my arm.

"Just get in. We'll talk things over."

He walked around to the other side of the car and got in.

I reluctantly did the same and placed my bag on the floor.

He turned on the air conditioner and then turned to me.

"Why can't you go home?"

He asked firmly, but he looked so concerned for me. He was fretting too much over a girl he only met a week ago. I took the hand he offered me and smiled cheerfully at him.

"Piero, don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine."

"You're avoiding my question."

I smiled softly, but there was no trace of playfulness in his eyes now. My smile faded, and I sighed.

"Because, Piero. Every Friday night and Saturday morning I must get out of the house and keep out for a while. It's just for the best. You needn't worry about it. Just drop me off at the library or something if you don't want to leave me here, and go to your recording session."

He looked disappointed, and he silently watched me.

I looked back at him longingly. I wanted to answer him, I really did. But it would be selfish of me to burden him with the mess that is my home life. It wasn't his problem to worry about. He squeezed my hand.

"I'm sorry, Piero." I said softly.

He nodded.

"Alright, I'll stop asking for now. But I can assure you that I can handle whatever it is, and I'll keep it a secret if that's what you want. I just fear, from what little you're telling me, that it might be more serious than you're letting on."

I smiled, relieved that he was relenting in his questioning. It was better for him not to know. It wasn't his responsibility to fix my problems.

"Thank you, Piero!"

He nodded, and then smiled sweetly at me.

"I have a little time before I have to be at the studio. So what should I do with you, in terms of placement?"

"Bring me to the library."

"But then you'll have to walk home."

"It's not so far."

"Um, four miles?"

I grinned sheepishly, and he laughed. I brightened at the sound.

"No, not the library."

He turned the key and started the engine.

"Where are we going?"

"When do you think you can be back home?"

"Usually I return after lunch."

He nodded, and backed out of the parking lot.

He started to sing something softly, and I settled contentedly into the seat to listen.

I had no idea where we were going, but I didn't ask, trusting him to take me someplace nice. Maybe he was bringing me along to the recording studio?

But he didn't. I was surprised when he took the route to his house and pulled into his own driveway. He turned to smile at me.

"If you can't go home, then you can stay here at mine for a while. I'm sure you can find something to occupy your time. I'll bring you home after the recording session ends."

I stared in astonishment at him, and he grinned and climbed out the car.

I did the same, jogging to catch up with him.

"Piero, you're leaving me alone in your house!? You only met me about a week ago!"

"I'm crazy, I know," he said, digging his keys out of his pocket. He reached out and playfully pinched my cheek. "But who can resist this sweet face!"

I was too surprised at the situation to laugh, and he turned and opened the door for me.

He led me inside and I stood awkwardly in the living room while he went to the piano and slung his Beats headphones around his neck. I looked around me.

"This is too weird, Piero!" I confirmed as he walked past me.

He grinned and quickly kissed my cheek.

"Have fun!" he called as he shut the front door behind him.