Page 34 of Twice
Nassau
“Miss me?” LaPorta said, reentering the room.
“Everything all right?” Alfie said.
“Yep. Had to pee, that’s all.”
LaPorta had actually been checking with his partners. The results were not promising. The croupier, under questioning, had denied any involvement. And the video of Alfie’s winnings only showed him sitting down at the roulette table and stacking his chips early on those single numbers. A cheat wouldn’t do that. He would more likely wait until late in the roll, lay several bets, or skip a roll to throw off suspicion. Alfie had looked relaxed, casual. Only on the third number did he seem to hesitate, before pushing all his chips on 28 black. Since he’d been building his stack with each success, that was the biggest payout. More than two million dollars. He gathered his winnings, rose from his chair, and cashed out.
LaPorta was certain others were in on it. But the croupier insisted he’d never seen Alfie before. His colleagues from the casino were now being questioned. Meanwhile, LaPorta had only Alfie’s wild notebook story to work with.Keep him talking.Maybe he’ll slip up.
“So where were we?”
“Gianna Rule,” Alfie said.
“Right. Your beneficiary.”
“Excuse me?”
“The bank transfer? The money?”
“Ah. Yes. The money.”
“Ah, yes, the money,” LaPorta mocked. “What’d you think I was talking about?”
The Composition Book
Things my mother said she loved about me:
“The way you get down on the floor to explore the small things.”
I went to college for love. That’s the truth of it. Every step at Boston University, from picking my classes to moving into the dormitories to buying the books to waiting in line at the dining halls, was all in hopes of being with Gianna. Our reunion at the zoo had sparked an attraction I’d never felt before. I needed to see where it went.
Of course, she didn’t know any of this. And with almost twenty thousand undergraduates milling about, finding her took some effort. The student directory had only her photo, no housing information. She wasn’t at the orientation events. I even went to the first meeting of the photography club, hoping she’d show up.
It would have been easier—much easier—if I’d traveled back to that day in Miami and asked Gianna for a phone number, which I’d stupidly neglected to do. But that encounter was one of my favorite memories, and I didn’t want to risk changing any of it.
So I spent mornings hanging outside dormitories and afternoons walking laps in the cafeterias. I even snuck into freshman literature classes to search for her. Some of thoselecture halls were so large that I just walked to the front of the room and shouted, “Excuse me! Is Gianna Rule in here?” Everyone stared, but what did I care? Once I saw she wasn’t, I tapped out and tried another class. I even thumbtacked large notes with my dorm phone number on the community poster boards, under the words:gianna rule: call alfie. Still no luck.
Then one night I went for a swim at the university’s indoor pool. About twenty minutes into it, I noticed a woman doing laps alongside me. I thought I saw her look at me and wave, but it happened so fast that I couldn’t be sure.
I tried to keep up, but she was a much faster swimmer, so I waited until she passed me going the other direction. Sure enough, she waved again. She was Gianna’s size and shape. But because she wore a bathing cap and goggles, I barely got a glimpse of her face. Still, it had to be her. Who else would be signaling me?
I made the turn, flipped around, and anticipated her coming my way. But the lane was suddenly empty.
I rose to the surface, gasping air, and spotted her walking toward the locker rooms. I slapped through several lanes, nearly smashing into a guy doing the backstroke, and yanked myself out of the pool. From behind, her body looked more curvy than I remembered it. Just before I caught up, she pulled her swim cap off to reveal a mop of red hair. Then, whoever this woman was looked at me and shook her head, as if I were pathetic. She disappeared into the women’s locker room.
I turned to go, dripping, totally embarrassed, when I heard a familiar voice.
“I was right. A guy will follow any girl who waves at him.”
I spun to see Gianna, in a green bathing suit and shower togs. The redhead stepped out behind her. They both grinned.
“This is my friend, Laura,” Gianna said. She put her hands on her hips. “So. I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
?
You know that expression “bowled over”? That’s how I constantly felt around Gianna back then. From that moment at the pool onward, every encounter, every brief conversation, left me off-balance. Being able to do things twice may have sharpened my confidence with other people, but around her I felt awkward in how I stood, how I slouched, even where I put my arms. It was as if my body were constantly auditioning. They say the strongest kinds of love make you feel that way, right? Sort of dizzy? I was dizzy around Gianna all the time.
