Page 88 of Better Than Gelato
He still hasn’t said anything, so I lift up the bakery bag. “And if you need a croissant, I brought some.” I hand him the bag, and he takes it from me and sets it on the step beside him.
Then, excruciatingly slowly, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. This is not a make-up kiss like in the movies, exciting and passionate. This is soft and sad. This is trying to find our way forward again, and hoping it works. This is ‘I love you, but I’m hurting.’ Finally, we draw apart.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Jake nods his head. “I love you too,” he says.
I want to say sorry again, but I resist the urge. “Do you want to take a walk?” I say. I feel like we’re the most us when we’re walking.
We hold hands and eat croissants and cross the street toward Parco Sempione.We don’t talk for a while. He keeps looking at me, and I try to guess what he sees.
I ask how things are going in the lab, and he tells me about some of their research results. Still inconclusive, but promising.
“When do you hear back from the photography department?” he asks. For a little while, I’d forgotten about the program. Now it comes rushing back.
“I heard back already.”
“You did? That’s amazing!”
He scoops me into his arms and squeezes me tight. It feels good being in his arms again, but he lets go when I shake my head.
“I uh, I didn’t get in.” It sucks saying the words out loud. And I feel even morepathetic when my eyes fill up with tears. They run down my cheeks in fat droplets.
“Oh, Juliet.”
When Jake got accepted to med school I felt so proud of him. I wonder if he wishes his girlfriend wasn’t such a loser.
“Did they…say why? Or explain anything?”
I shake my head again. “It’s very competitive,” I mumble.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I know how long you’ve wanted this.”
“I’m glad I know. I submitted my best work, and I don’t have what it takes. That’s good information to have, so I don't waste any more time on this dream.”
I’m going for mature and gracious, but the last word comes out as a sob, ruining everything.
Jake doesn’t say anything, just pulls me into his arms and holds me for a long time.
ChapterTwenty-Three
I’ve been trying my best not to mope, I know I should be grateful I get to go back to college at all. My brain keeps making lists of possible career options, and my heart keeps pointing out how terrible all those options are. It’s exhausting. An action movie is exactly what I need to forget about real life.
I meet up with Jake, Paolo, and Diego at a movie theater downtown. Carmen and Valentina are busy tonight, so it’s just me and the boys. We watch the latest Marvel movie, and it feels like all the other Marvel movies, but it’s funny and full of action and takes my mind off of things.
Afterward, we walk toward a pizza place we like, and I drop back to walk with Diego. He’s usually leaping around throwing punches after these movies, but tonight he’s especially quiet.
“When you’re a famous movie star,” I say, “do you want to be more like Star-Lord or Thor?”
Diego doesn’t respond. I look over at him, and his medium-brown skin looks as pale as mine.
“Diego, are you okay?”
He nods his head but then stumbles on a cobblestone. I reach out to grab his arm, and it’s slick with sweat.
“Diego—”
Before I can say anything else, he collapses at my feet, his head hitting the sidewalk with a stomach-dropping thwack.
