the Grey - Chapter III - Chiara pt.2
If you’re new here, you may want to start from the beginning.
Chiara. The first time I saw her. I watched her from behind, sitting on a distant bench. She hadn’t seen me, I was sure of it. Her unusual figure stood out vividly against the mundane mosaic of a summer like any other. A puzzle piece out of place. A conspicuous point that captured my attention despite my will. I hated it. How could she, how dare she command so much of my focus? She had always seemed strange to me. Out of place. Strange in a different way.
At 17, it’s simple. There are two kinds of girls: those who think they’re women, and those who are just girls. You can tell by the way they move, by the way they touch their hair. I know this. Yes, I’m an expert. I know girls from the outside better than anyone. I told Gabriele when he started seeing Lucia: Watch out, man, that one’s a loose cannon; she’s not to be trusted. He didn’t take it well at the time, snapped back at me, maybe because I was too blunt. But two weeks later, she was dancing with someone else, and we, the usual five, were drinking rum in the practice room, trying to forget. He never admitted I was right. But I was.
If you open yourself to risk, it will bite you back. Willingly or not, those are the rules of the world. You can’t trust anyone. You only have yourself. You must protect yourself.
My fingers move quickly; today I am precise. It comes out well. Full-bodied sound from the speakers, a punch to the gut that gives me pleasure.
Chiara. Again, Chiara. Chiara didn’t conform to known standards; she didn’t have familiar mannerisms or hollow laughter, no canned jokes. That strange sensation, the unease of exploring a new corner of my mind. I didn’t want to go there, but it called to me, drew me in. And I lingered. Lost, my head bowed, elbows on my knees. The sun dimmed, the heat receded, and a shadow of coolness fell over me. I lifted my head. The face of this new girl loomed above me. Beautiful, yes, she was. I couldn’t deny it. The harmony of her face exploded in a gentle smile.
“Hi!” And with my best poker face, I stared at her silently. She tilted her head and said, “Hi, I’m Chiara. What’s your name?” As I was still processing what was happening. Me, there, lost in my thoughts, in my special place. What do you want from me? And yet, I wanted her. I wanted her attention. A girl approaching me like that, without a dumb question to ask or homework to copy. I said, “Luca.” My voice came out flat, monotone. And she said, “They told me you’re the only one I don’t know yet, so I came.” Oh, really? The only one? Don’t make stupid jokes. Don’t make stupid jokes. Don’t make stupid jokes.
“Eh?” The only syllable I managed to utter. Great, bravo. Hand me an eraser so I can wipe myself off this earth. How the hell do you manage to come off as an idiot in less than two lines? Idiot. And then she sat next to me.
“They said you play music.”
Okay, here’s your chance. Go for it. “Yeah, the bass.”
What? That’s it? Say something, for God’s sake. Tell her you’re a musical genius! Impress her!
“Oh, really? That’s cool. I play the piano, but I’d love to learn the violin or any string instrument. You know, my dad plays double bass in a jazz band.”
Oh God, saved at the last second. You almost bragged to someone who actually knows music… Wait a minute, knows music? Hey, this is new. I leaned back, studying her. Looking back now, it’s almost as if her edges glowed. What are you? The rabbit hole opened before me. I didn’t want to go in. I was scared, but she was irresistible. I wanted to know her. I wanted to see how far this could go. What was down there?
A voice repeated incessantly in my head: Don’t do it. Don’t do it. It was fear. Fear of being broken by this. But it faded, growing distant. I heard it but chose not to listen.
It vanished.
We talked all afternoon and into the evening. And then all night, until it was black as pitch. A moonless night. We got home around three or so. That first day, one long, endless conversation. What did we talk about? Everything, I think. Or maybe more. I fell, gently, into the rabbit hole. Wrapped in thoughts of her, shining brightly in my mind. A volcano erupting with energy and life, she stung with her words, answered provocations, kept the rhythm of the conversation, broke it with humor, teased, wandered. Every laugh refreshed me like a midday shower under the sun. She surprised me with variations, disoriented me. Never, never had I spoken like this, never found someone to improvise words with, to compose something unexpected together.
I spoke. I spoke so much, more than ever before. And she listened, understood. I told her about school, the band, the girls, the silences, and the discomforts, and she reciprocated, telling me about her school, her struggles, her joys, her life. Ideas, love, who are you, what do you do, why do you do it? Anything. Truly anything, without stopping. But a misstep, a chord out of place. That’s where the magic lived, branching from the base melody. Counterpoints followed each other, one holding the rhythm while the other wove embellishments, switching roles. A dream, a second self mirroring you just an arm’s length away. But it wasn’t quite that. No, it was something deeper, unknown. A new phrase, a word you didn’t expect. I discovered it and kept discovering it. A dive into deep waters. The night was dark. The stars so bright. Oh God, the clock. The sand was cold.
In front of her house, just before going in, she said, “You know, I’ve never talked this much about so many things in one go, and with just one person.” And I said, “I don’t think I’ve ever said this many words in my life. I mean, from my very first word until now.” She laughed. Oh, how easy it had become to make her laugh. I was proud. Happy with who I was. No, happy with what I had found. For once, I didn’t feel out of place in my own life.
I felt the urge to touch her. I wanted to remember this night. I wanted a keepsake.
I moved closer without meaning to, instinct taking over. Her eyes widened, meeting mine, and a slight movement toward me confirmed: Yes, I want this too. The moment of truth. Everything could crumble. I was on the threshold. Should I take the leap? I could fall. She could push me away. But now I had no choice. Let’s go. Let’s go. Whatever happens, happens. My lips brushed hers, her scent filling my nose, my heart galloping. I was the happiest person in the world. Her hands on my neck. Mine on her waist. How long did we stay like that? It felt like a second. It could have been hours. The sweetest hours of my life.
She looked at me one last time, her doe eyes tender. A slight nod. Her lips barely parted, then she disappeared behind the white gate. The metallic clang echoed in my ears. My knees trembled. I ran off into the darkest night, chasing my heart, and found it pounding against a white wall bathed in the light of a lone streetlamp. I pressed my hands against it, then my head, and let it stay there for a while. And let it laugh.
She stepped down from her tiptoes, disheartened, turning her gaze away from the gate and toward the others. From the corner of her eye, she saw Carlo, lost in thought.
Perhaps she wanted to say something, to ease the tension, to joke, but she couldn’t accept such harsh words of judgment. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t understand Luca at all. Luca had kept him at a distance, like everyone else, for a lifetime. To protect himself.
She was the only one who had entered his heart, for the first time in his life. He had told her so. He was sincere; she could feel it. The world assailed his heart, always ready to wound him, to make him suffer. And he built a high wall to defend it. No one could see inside. An impenetrable curtain of ice. A curtain she had pierced, finding within it a warm and generous heart. Still tender, kind, and defenseless. She had settled into it, basking in its warmth.
She wanted to keep it safe, away from the world, all for herself, a special place. Over time, they would share that warmth, breaking down the illusory barriers together. Yes, she believed in it. The magic of that summer was no dream. It didn’t matter what others said, it was just background noise. What mattered was what she felt in her heart, whether alone or when she was with him.
She heard her name called and turned to see two boys on a scooter waving at her with wide gestures. She recognized them, they had met the night before at the bar. She had mentioned which section of the park her house was in. Apparently, they had come hoping to get her phone number. She offered a polite smile and raised her arm to return the greeting. Watching them prop the scooter on its kickstand, she sighed in exasperation and approached cautiously, smiling faintly.
She realized she couldn’t recall their names. She focused, trying to remember, retracing moments from the previous night. She dug deep into her mind, step by step, letting the surrounding distractions fade away.
Then, suddenly, she felt it.
It had been in the air for some time, unnoticed until now, when it became strikingly clear. A deep, low sound with a steady rhythm, underscoring a familiar harmony. Just a few more notes to close the progression and return to the tonic, and she recognized it.
Her face lit up with genuine joy. She veered quickly away from the path leading to the boys on the scooter, heading toward the farthest bench. Climbing onto the seat, then onto the backrest, she held onto the lamppost beside it. Rising on her tiptoes again, she looked toward Luca’s house.
That was the bassline from The Nurse Who Loved Me, the song he had dedicated to her the day they got together. He was playing it for her! He was playing their song! That had to be it!
Her heart filled with joy, beating faster as her smile widened. Warmth spread through her, dissolving tension rapidly. Her fears, her doubts, Carlo’s words, they all slipped away. A reaffirmation of her certainty. She wouldn’t waver. Everything spoke of them, of the love that was blossoming. She could feel it solidifying in her bones, in her thoughts, binding her to a new nucleus she would call Us. She would nurture it forever.
She saw Luca’s silhouette approach the edge of the roof, ten, maybe fifteen meters high. His bare chest gleamed, the bass strap slung diagonally across his body. The pink hues of the twilight framed him like a gentle aura.
She began to jump and wave her arms to catch his attention. Then, cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted his name, a long, jubilant call followed by a tender howl of affection. Pure happiness.
She shouted so loudly that everyone turned to look. Some were startled, others surprised. For a moment, the entire life of the square froze, all eyes on the singular image of a girl, her uncontainable joy bursting forth as she jumped and screamed on the bench. Just an instant. Then the spell broke, and everyone returned to their activities, murmuring and commenting.
Luca heard her call. He lifted his head and saw her. He smiled, nodded in time with the rhythm. His fingers slid effortlessly across the fretboard. When he could, he extended his left hand toward her, pointing as if to say, This is for you.
Then, with his head and shoulders tilted slightly forward, his gaze dropped as he brought his hand back to the bass’s neck for the bridge leading into the solo.
She was filled with pride. He was with her, his presence diffused through the air, as everyone unwittingly became spectators to a performance meant only for her. She felt at the center of it all, the center of his heart.
She watched as Luca stepped back from the parapet and disappeared from view. She sat down, softly singing along to the harmony, following the sweet notes to their end. The performance continued for a few minutes more, repeating the chorus an octave higher before ending gently.
The sound faded slowly, echoing off the walls of the houses surrounding the square. She let it wash over her until it vanished completely. Then she rose from the bench and threw herself into the lively chatter of the group on the bench opposite, brimming with happiness.
Copyright © The MaDMan, 2000. All rights reserved.
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Here is some honest feedback. You created a lot of expectations that Chiara was different. But when the dialogue started, there wasn't really anything special. That put me off.