Page 9 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

I was never the same.

Growing up, I learned more about how dangerous thoughts can be. I began to understand what could have been goingthrough her mind that night. But no matter how much I tried to understand, I could never forgive.

Some children are lucky enough to have both parents and a happy childhood, while others grow up scared, carrying scars that follow them for the rest of their lives. Scars that can turn them into monsters that no one knows how to heal. Monsters who are never born, but, in my case, a monster that was created from pain.

From that day on, losing, to me, meant only one thing:people leaving by their own choice, choosing not to come back.And I was simply too cold to care.

1. Fuck

3

BLUE

Idon’t remember when I fell asleep last night, but I remember Gianni promising he’d be home by sunrise. I sat up, my sleepy eyes staring at the clock as it ticked past six in the morning. I told myself there was still time for him to come home, but deep down I knew this would be one of those mornings when I’d have to lie to our mother again.

I exhaled and stood. My gaze drifted to the window I’d left open for him. A seagull swooped in and landed on the windowsill, lifting its head and spreading its wings toward me. I grabbed a pillow and swung it through the air, trying to scare the poor bird away. It only shuffled farther along the frame. I tossed the pillow back onto the bed and stepped closer to the window.

For a moment, I forgot the seagull was even there. My mother was already walking down the street on her way to work. My chest loosened a little. I had until two in the afternoon to find Gianni, but the feeling that something was wrong kept pulsing at the back of my mind.

Just as I turned toward the door, the seagull took flight from the windowsill. Sailors celebrate them. They know that when they see one, home, or at least land, isn’t far away.

For me, they come before a storm.

And something deep, deep down inside me told me it was coming.

In my head, I already had a plan. First, I’d call that asshole Oliver and ask where my brother was. If Gianni wasn’t with him, I’d search the town myself.

Dragging my bare feet across the floor, I made my way downstairs. It reminded me of the nights Gianni and I would sneak out and climb over the fence to steal our neighbor’s figs. The old man never complained. He had no family of his own and seemed happy to share them, but our mother saw it differently. In her eyes, we weren’t children. We weremonelli, proof that she hadn’t raised us properly. She always worried more about what the neighbors might think than whether her own children were happy. Part of me knew she didn’t know any better, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. If anything, it made it worse.

I let out a slow breath as I stepped off the last stair and onto the kitchen floor. We only had a landline, a yellowing phone that had hung on the wall since the nineties and barely worked. I’d always wanted one of those flip phones so I could call my friend Annie, who lived in Greece with her parents. But every time I managed to save enough money, it ended up going towards the rent instead. I never questioned where it all disappeared until the day Gianni told me our mother was spending most of it on cigarettes.

I pressed my finger against the thick plastic buttons and dialed the number I’d known by heart since childhood.

The phone barely rang twice before someone answered.

“1Buongiorno, Villa Sinclair.”

“Buongiorno,” I said. “It’s Gabby. Is Oliver there?”

“2Un momento, per favore.”

The line went quiet for a moment before she called out, “Mr. Sinclair, Miss De Luca is on the phone.”

I kept forgetting that even though Oliver and I didn’t speak anymore, the staff still knew who I was.

“Hi.”

His voice came out rough.

He’s hungover as usual.

“Hi. Is my brother there?” I asked without wasting a second.

There had been a time when I would have asked how he was, then worried, then lectured him. Now I don’t care.

I just wanted to know where my brother was.

“No,” he barely said, “he… we talked for two minutes last night before he just left.”