《Summers in rome.》 Chapter 1; The Beach Two more weeks. I exhale and stare at the sky while I wait for my bus. Two more weeks and then you can be out of here. Two more weeks and school¡¯s out FOREVER. I glance up as I hear the bus brakes squeal to a stop in front of me and the four other students at my bus stop. The bus is, as per usual, a jungle gym. Stepping over feet and bags, avoiding the gum, food, and mysterious liquids, turning up my music volume to block out the loud students that sound like the monkey section of the zoo. I sit down in the back, as per usual, and pull out my notebook and pencil. I write furiously for the next fifteen minutes on the bumpy ride to school. My fantasy book won¡¯t be like anyone else¡¯s. This will be a true tragedy, the beautiful main character dying before their (forced) fiance has the chance to tell them he truly loves them. Three minutes before I get to school I shove my book into my pocket and tuck my pencil behind my ear, where i gets held in place by my long curly hair. Leaning back into the plasticey seat, I sigh and turn my music to full volume, Luminary by Joel Sunny blasting through my head, leading me into the fantasy world of my creation. Shouldering my backpack, I step out of the bus and into the doors of the hellhole the government calls ¡®School.¡¯ * * * * * I walk home from my bus stop, exhaustion creeping through each of my limbs. My little one-room flat is heaven compared to that massive building crowded with people. I have enough time for a thirty minute nap before I have to get ready for work. My alarm screams me awake and I jump, falling off of my cot and hitting my head on the desk I, so intelligently, placed next to it. I throw on my shirt and glasses, quickly wetting my hair and style it in a way that looks slightly appealing, a basic messy man-bun, and grab my headphones. I grab my messenger bag and run out the door, praying I get to the bus on time. I¡¯d rather not have to get my Mo-ped out of the apartment and down the stairs. ¡°Afternoon, boss.¡± I smile at the boy, Atticus. My age, homeschooled, who works at the bakery with his mother, father, and sister. ¡°Afternoon, Felix.¡± He glances at me. His green eyes feel like they can see right through my soul. ¡°I¡¯m not late, am I?¡± I shoot a look at the clock, seeing it ten minutes before my shift starts. ¡°Oh, thank the stars.¡± I mutter. I put my bag down on the table in the breakroom and grab my apron from the hooks that line the wall next to the door. ¡°Good Afternoon, Mr. Bonfils.¡± I announce my presence to the squat little man that stands by the cash register. ¡°Good afternoon, Felix. You¡¯re helping Atty in the kitchen today.¡± He smiles at me and waves me through the door behind him. ¡°Sounds perfect!¡± I reappear next to Atticus, who is dutifully stirring some kind of batter. A list of pastries we need to restock on hangs on the massive fridge. Top of the list, Almond Croissants, is already crossed off, so that¡¯s what Atticus must be working on. I move down the list, finding Cornish Pasties next on the paper. Pulling out my ingredients, I set up my baking station next to the other boy¡¯s and get to work. I wash the rest of the dough off of my hands. We left the rest of the dough to rise and hung up our aprons, then going to the courtyard behind the bakery with Mrs. Bonfils¡¯ homemade mango popsicles. I suck on the popsicle happily, feeling the hot sun beating down on my dark hair. ¡°You¡¯re lucky, you know? I¡¯d kill to have blonde hair like you. You don¡¯t get hot as easily.¡± Atticus smirks at me. ¡°Ah, I see. You want to be a basic blondie with blue eyes. No, you¡¯d fit the ¡®dumb blonde¡¯ stereotype too easily.¡± His banter dies down and his smirk slips into a smile. ¡°Besides, your black hair is pretty. It makes your eyes stand out, along with your freckles.¡± I smile at him, too. ¡°Well, thank you, but in summer it¡¯s murderous to have hair like this. Long, thick, black hair makes me overheat even when I¡¯m wearing a tanktop.¡± He laughs, then turns to face me. ¡°How about we go down to the beach tonight? My friends are throwing a bonfire at sunset, you should come hang out with us!¡± ¡°Oh man, I¡¯d love to, but you know I¡¯m not good with crowds.¡± I explain while gazing at the grass in embarrassment. He laughs again. ¡°No worries, Lix! There¡¯ll only be four other people there.¡± He teases, ¡°No need to worry about your big crowds.¡± ¡°Oh, good. Okay, I¡¯ll go then.¡± I reply with a little grin. I trail him back inside so we can finish up our work. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. * * * * * ¡°Mama, Pappa, We¡¯re gonna go down to the beach!¡± Atticus calls up the stairs to his parents. ¡°Alright, hun.¡± Mrs. Bonfils answered. ¡°Be back before three, and if you get drunk call us to come pick you up.¡± ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am!¡± He responds, a charming smile on his face as he turns to me. ¡°You ready to go?¡± I nod, my hands flicking back and forth nervously. He puts a hand on my shoulder to help me calm down. ¡°Hey, chill out felix. They¡¯ll love you.¡± We start walking through the twisted streets of Rome. ¡°This¡¯ll be your first time at the beach since you got top surgery, right?¡± ¡°Yep. I¡¯m fully healed now, so I don¡¯t need to worry about getting salt water into the incisions though.¡± I reply with a smile. ¡°Oh, good I was worried about that. Say, do you want me to tell the others that you¡¯re non-binary?¡± He questions. ¡°Oh, um, Sure? I guess it¡¯ll be better if they know my pronouns.¡± ¡°sweet.¡± He pulls out his phone and sends a text, which I can assume is telling his friends about my pronouns. ¡°Hey, um.¡± He turns to me with a quizzing look. ¡°Thanks for being so calm about, you know, my gender, and sexuality, and stuff.¡± ¡°Of course. It¡¯s not my place to judge you, man.¡± He smiles at me gently. ¡°Plus, I¡¯m queer anyways. Most of my friends are, too.¡± ¡°Oh! Oh, um, cool. I didn¡¯t know that.¡± He peeks at me for a moment. ¡°Yeah, not many people do.¡± ¡°And your parents, they¡¯re okay with it?¡± ¡°Yeah, as long as I¡¯m safe and happy, they say.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± I feel jealousy burning under my skin. ¡°That must be nice.¡± Atticus smiles at me and speeds up, gaining speed until he reaches a full sprint by the time he reaches the sand. I run after him, but his stamina is amazing, and I¡¯m out of breath by the time I reach the edge of the beach. Atticus is waving his arm and charging towards another small group of teenagers further down the beach clustered around a small fire. A girl smiles at him and waves. One guy stands up and starts running towards Atticus until they get close enough to tackle each other and wrestle each other into the sand. Another guy and an extremely androgynous person start walking towards me, as i¡¯ve now recovered my breath and have started walking towards the fire as well. ¡°Hey,¡± the guy calls to me. ¡°You must be Felix, Atticus¡¯ friend. I¡¯m Cyrus, This is julius, the girl is Lucia, and The meathead with Atticus is Matteo.¡± I smile awkwardly at them, ¡°Nice to meet you guys.¡± Cyrus smiles at me brightly. ¡°Come put your stuff down by the fire. We have some Processo, Limoncello, and even some Negroni if you want any. We also have some cigarettes from America, Carbello or something.¡± I smile again, less nervous now. ¡°I won¡¯t say no to a quick smoke.¡± I walk with them to the fire and put my messenger bag into an empty chair. Lucia passes me a cup of Limoncello. ¡°Welcome, you gotta be Felix.¡± She smiles and looks me up and down. ¡°Damn, I can see why Atticus likes you, you¡¯re a cute one.¡± My face goes hot and I stare at the glass in my hands. ¡°Th-thank you?¡± ¡°Bah,¡± she chuckles, ¡°don¡¯t be shy, the love of my life is already mine.¡± She cups the hip of Julius and kisses their cheek gently. They turn tomato red and look away. ¡°Babe!¡± Cyrus shouts towards the wrestling boys, ¡°You¡¯re going to fall into the ocean!¡± Matteo¡¯s head pops out of the squirming bodies and smiles cheekily at Cyrus, then kicks Atticus into the sea and runs back to the fire, a sopping wet Atticus chasing after him. He grabs Cyrus¡¯ waist and ducks behind him, squealing and laughing as Atticus skids to a stop in front of them. Atticus walks over to him, pouting, and hugs him around his waist. ¡°Lixyyyyy.¡± He whines, ¡°They¡¯re being mean to meee.¡± I feel my face flush again and I pat his back. ¡°There, there, you¡¯ll emotionally recover some day.¡± Lucia raises her eyebrow and gives me a quizzing look. Cyrus speaks exactly what she¡¯s thinking. ¡°Are you two.. Dating?¡± chapter 2, the incident Atticus pulls away from me with a face the shade of neon pink. ¡°No!¡± I nod, pulling a face of disgust despite my dissapointment at his reaction. ¡°We¡¯re just coworkers and friends.¡± I butt in. Julius shoots me a look. They must have noticed how crestfallen I was when Atticus reacted to the question. I give them a slight shake of my head. ¡°Alright!¡± Matteo claps his hands once. ¡°Who¡¯s ready for some swimming!¡± Every jumps at that, stripping of shirts and changing into bathing suits, except for Lucia, who was already in her bikini top and swim trunks. I¡¯m the last in the water, still standing by the fire in my trunks and flat chested bikini top. Even with the top, you can see my top surgery scars. Atticus shoots a look back at me, smiles, and yells, ¡°No one here will judge you, scaredy cat. You¡¯ll be okay!!¡± I nod, pulling off my tanktop to reveal the hawaiin pattern on the swim suit I¡¯m wearing. Atticus turns slightly pink and dives under the waves, and I jump right in after him. We splash around a while, laughing and dumping Lucia off of her floaty repeatedly. Matteo and Cyrus sneak off for a while, and once I ask if I should go looking for them Julius just says, ¡°Let them snog in peace, they¡¯re just getting drunk off their asses.¡± Atticus laughs at that, snorting and hugging his chest. I smile awkwardly, glad they saved me from encountering that. ¡°¦«¦Ï¦É¦Ð?¦Í, ¦Ã?¦Ì¦Ç¦Ò¦Å ¦Ì¦Å, ¦Ô¦Ð¦Ï¦È?¦Ó¦Ø. ¦Å¦Ô¦Ö¦Á¦Ñ¦É¦Ò¦Ó? ¦Ð¦Ï¦Ô ¦Ì¦Å ¦Ò?¦Ò¦Á¦Ó¦Å ¦Á¦Ð? ¦Á¦Ô¦Ó?.¡± Atticus stares at me in shock. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± ¡°Was what?¡± ¡°Which language was that?¡± ¡°Oh. It was just greek.¡± Julius and Lucia both start laughing. ¡°Wait,¡± Lucia wipes a tear from her eye, ¡°You speak Greek, but you live in Rome?¡± ¡°Um,¡± I look at her quizzically,¡±Yes? I¡¯m from Greece, I thought you knew that.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Atticus looks at me strangely, his face red from the cold. He splashes back under the water and knocks over Lucia¡¯s floaty again. Julius laughs, but quickly quiets down when a sopping, fuming Lucia reappears and tackles Atticus into the water. I genuinely laugh when Atticus resurfaces. Atticus is the town fuck-boy, notoriously good-looking and proper, despite his ¡°bad boy¡± reputation, yet he emerges from the water with his wavy sun-bleached hair flopped in front of his eyes, coughing and spluttering, a long tendril of seaweed somehow wrapped around his shoulders and dangling down his arm like a strange string of pearls. Atticus glares at me slightly, yet in a joking way. ¡°Well,¡± he mutters, ¡°Glad someone gets amusement from my humiliation.¡± His grumpy expression brings another smile to my lips. Eventually the other two boys reappear, Cyrus¡¯s face flushed and his neck scattered with small reddish bruises. Lovely. Lucia rolls her eyes, running her hand over her bleached buzz-cut. Julius looks away, then back towards the group. ¡°Hey, Let¡¯s go back to the beach and all get drunk off our asses.¡± Everyone cheers and we splash back to the fire. Atticus catches my eye and flashes me a quick smile, then calls, ¡°Me and Felix call the Vodka! They¡¯ve never gotten drunk!¡± I laugh, but looking back it was the best alcohol I''ve had in my life. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. * * * * * I woke up that morning in an unfamiliar room, with no clothes on, sprawled against a warm body. I didn¡¯t know who it was, but the breeze coming through the window urged me to curl into them, which I did. A headache throbbed between my ears, and recollection started coming to me. The drinking contest, The truth or dare kiss, a drunken stumble to Atticus¡¯s house, a make-out session until we couldn;t hold back anymore. Oh god. Oh dear fucking god. I look up at Atticus, my face going bright red, my thoughts racing. Suddenly nauseous, I run to the bathroom connected to his bedroom and gagged, throwing on a pair of shorts before I reached it. Atticus sits up, his hair a mess and hickeys on his neck and chest. He suddenly groans and grips his head, then looks around. Once his eyes see me, they widen. ¡°Oh my god.¡± He runs over. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry! Was I too rough? I tried to clean you up after but I¡¯m never really good at aftercare, but you seemed to like the bubble bath. You¡¯re really cuddly when you¡¯re drunk, you know? Oh my god wait, you have gotten any form of lower body surgeries. Did I get you pregnant?! Is this morning sickness?! I¡¯m so sorry, I¡¯ll help take care of the kid-¡± I slap a hand across his mouth. ¡°1, Too early in the morning for a ramble, 2, I have a throbbing hangover quiet down, 3, I am not pregnant, I am hungover. Now will you calm down?¡± He nods nervously. ¡°Good.¡± I exhale. ¡°Now explain what happened last night.¡± * * * * * Mr. Bonfils spits his coffee halfway across the room. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Oh, good.¡± Mrs. Bonfils smiles at me, ¡°Now it''s completely a family business.¡± Atticus stares at his lap at the table, while I hide my face in my hands. His mother had walked in right when he mentioned the part where we had sex and immediately ran out of the room. I blush a bit at that and Atticus looks up in horror. ¡°Mom!¡± she gives him a look then adds, ¡°At least, i certainly hope you¡¯re dating after that.¡± He peers at me and takes a breath. ¡°Well, I dunno.¡± He switches his gaze back to his mother and then to me again. ¡°Are we dating?¡± He looks puzzled. I shrug. ¡°If you want to, I''ve liked you for a while.¡± I slip the words into the sentence subtly. His face goes neon and he focuses on his plate again. ¡°I like you too.¡± he mumbled. I smile and turn to Mrs. Bonfils again. ¡°Well, apparently we are dating.¡± I say with a cheeky smile. She gawks at us while Mr. Bonfils guffaws and doubles over, laughing at the currently uncomfortable scene. ¡°Well,¡± She announces flustered. ¡°I suppose its too late to tell you to wait until marriage.¡± Mr. Bonfils laughs so hard he snorts his coffee. Chapter 3, Now What? I climb into the passenger seat next to Atticus in the small car. He smiles and pulls out of the parking lot of my flat, blasting ¡°Bella Ciao¡± on his way down the empty road, screaming his lungs out to the lyrics. I just sit and smile, humming along. ¡°So,¡± I interrupt his singing when it switches to some David Bowie song, Magic Dance, I think?. ¡°Where are we going?¡± He glances away from the road for a minute in my direction. ¡°You¡¯ll see!¡± He grins. I smile back, but I can feel how strained it is. I hate these types of disruptions in my schedule. Despite my reservations about the unexpected detour, I choose to go along with Atticus''s spontaneous adventure. As we drive further away from my comfort zone, I can''t help but wonder what surprises await us at our destination. The car zooms down the winding road, the wind rushing through my hair, and the music blaring in the background. Atticus''s infectious energy fills the car, and I can''t help but be swept up in his enthusiasm, tapping my fingers and bobbing my head. His joy is contagious, even if it clashes with my need for structure and routine. As the scenery changes from familiar city streets to sprawling countryside, my curiosity gets the better of me. I can''t resist asking again, "Seriously, where are we going?" Atticus chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Patience, my Dear. All will be revealed soon enough." I take a deep breath, trying to let go of my need for control. Atticus has always been the spontaneous one, pushing me to step outside my comfort zone. As the car rounds a bend, a breathtaking landscape unfolds before us. A hidden gem that I would have never discovered on my own. Atticus pulls over, and we step out of the car to take in the beauty surrounding us. The air is crisp and filled with the scent of wildflowers. The rolling hills stretch out as far as the eye can see, dotted with vibrant patches of green and colorful wildflowers. The sky above is a brilliant shade of blue, with fluffy white clouds lazily drifting by. I can''t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder as I take in the picturesque scene. Atticus grins at me, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I knew you''d love it," he says, his voice filled with triumph. I can''t help but smile back at him, the cheeky prat. At that moment, I give in. I grab the back of his head and pull him in to a quick kiss, smiling even wider when he pulls away with a neon red face. We spend the afternoon exploring the hidden trails that wind through the hills, immersing ourselves in the natural beauty around us. We stumble upon a secluded waterfall, its cascading waters creating a soothing melody. We dip our toes in the cool pool at its base, feeling the refreshing embrace of nature. As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, we find a quiet spot to sit and eat the picnic I packed the day before. Pasta salads have always been my specialty, and I had enough money to get some bottled teas. Cheap, I know, But honestly still so good. He smiles and laughs as I savor the taste of the pasta. Glaring at him jokingly, I dip my hand into the water by our feet and flick a scoop of water towards him, splashing him and soaking his shirt. He gapes and me for a moment, then grins evilly. ¡°Oh fuck!¡± I duck out of the way continuously as he tries over and over again to splash me. Eventually, I assume he¡¯s given up. He stops and wraps me in a hug. I laugh at his easy defeat, hugging him back, until I feel his arms stiffen into a human cage. ¡°Hey!¡± I squirm around as he picks me up. ¡°Put me down, you fucking toe-licker!¡± He laughs loudly, warm breath hitting my ear, as he walks towards the water. ¡°No.¡± He says, and promptly drops me into the lake. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.