I break away from my brother and run to Italy's phone. The phone rings twice before I hear a person pick up.
"Where is he?" I fume.
"Not even a hello? Really Germany, I'm disappointed." I hear the American mock.
"Hello," I say sarcastically. "Now where the hell did you put my Italy."
"Your Italy? I thought I'd have a little fun with your plaything." I can almost see the jeering smile of the American.
"Where. The. Hell. Is. He." I grit my teeth in frustration.
"Vacation." America yawns.
"Where?"
"I thought I was doing you a favor, the idiot is so irritating and you work so hard, I figured you could use the break."
"I hate you."
"Flattery gets you no where, sweetie."
"What do you want?" I sigh.
"Ah! Now there's the question I was looking for!" I can almost picture the American's smug smile.
"Then what the hell do you want?"
"You."
My blood turns to ice.
"Meet me at that little restaurant where you and your little boyfriend had your first date. Six o'clock. Sharp. Don't be late. And come alone."
I hear a click and silence.