What Kills Me Read Free Page B

me,
sat on the roof, and slid off into his arms. We stood in the street
facing each other, his hands on my waist. I felt my face flush but
I could not break from his gaze. My mind went blank.
    “So how about what you owe me?” he
said.
    “What?”
    “Gelato. Let’s go get one.”
    He grabbed the rose from the roof of
the van and presented it to me. I put the bloom to my nose and
covered my mouth to hide a wide smile. I had done it. Ryka would be
so proud.
    “Encouraging me to break curfew and
jump out of windows? You’re trouble.”
    “I promise, no more jumping out of
windows,” he said.
    “Good. I’m never doing that
again.”
    We stopped at a café for a strawberry
gelato and continued walking. I juggled the rose, my spoon, and my
cup of gelato while maneuvering around pedestrians and on-coming
Vespas. I felt unbalanced on the bumpy stone streets. Paolo never
appeared distracted. He examined my face, ignoring his melting
dessert.
    “What?” I said.
    “What?”
    “Why do you keep looking at me like
that? What are you thinking?”
    “I think you are beautiful,” he
said.
    “Oh,” I said. I didn’t know what else
to say. I brushed my hair behind my ear. But I had done so with the
hand holding my spoon, dripping pink globs into my hair.
    “Oh, crap.”
    “Don’t move,” he said. I froze as he
stepped close to me and ran his fingers into my hair. “Your hair
smells like strawberries now.”
    “That was my plan.”
    “Mmm.”
    Feeling shy, I inched away. “So, how
long have you lived in Rome?”
    “For an eternity, it
seems.”
    “You were born here?”
    He nodded.
    “Your English is amazing. Have you
ever been anywhere else?”
    “I’ve been everywhere
else.”
    We crossed the street and Paolo pulled
on my elbow to keep me from walking into a passing
bicycle.
    “Seriously?”
    “I like to travel.”
    “Yeah, but how did you get to travel
so much?”
    He paused. “My father, he is a
diplomat.”
    “So what are your favorite
cities?”
    “Tokyo is amazing. Very clean. I have
friends in Udaipur in India. The most beautiful lakes that you’ve
ever seen.”
    “I have this dream of
traveling the world and taking pictures for National Geographic magazine.”
    “Why don’t you?”
    I grinned. “Maybe one day. My parents
want me to study something practical first—you know, get a
degree.”
    As we walked by a store with stained
glass windows, the shopkeeper came out and said something in
Italian. Paolo stopped on the street corner to talk to him. I
leaned over the stall in front of the shop and examined the
necklaces and bracelets littering the table. I picked up a silver
pendant in the shape of a coin; the image of a butterfly was etched
on its surface.
    “Do you like it?” Paolo
asked.
    “It’s pretty.”
    Paolo slipped his fingers through the
chain, pulling it from me. He undid the clasp.
    “Wait,” I said.
    “Please,” he said, putting the chain
around my neck.
    The pendant was cool against my chest.
I pressed it against my skin to warm it up. Paolo reached into his
pocket and pulled out some money.
    “No, please, I can’t accept
this.”
    He handed the bills to the shopkeeper.
“Zee, you are a guest in my city. Let me treat you. As a thank you
for the gelato.”
    “The gelato was a thank you for
helping me yesterday.”
    “Please. This is my
pleasure.”
    “Thank you,” I said. We crossed the
street. “A rose, a necklace? Way to set the bar, Paolo.”
    “I just want you to like
me.”
    “Is this what it takes to get a girl
to like you?”
    “You tell me.”
    It was working. The prospect of a
summer of romance with him thrilled me.
    “It’s not necessary. But it is
appreciated,” I said.
    Down an empty street, he set his
uneaten gelato in a plant pot and sauntered up to a walled
property. A blanket of ivy covered the stone wall and the gated
entrance. He gripped the iron bars and motioned with a nod for me
to join him. Inside the yard, two street lamps illuminated a