Resisting Home, Defying Fate

But there’s no point in holding back this particular piece of information. He’ll find out eventually.

“I got into Harvard,” I announce.

Anyway, I’m wondering why he’s the first person I tell. I got the news three hours ago. I was shopping in town when I decided to check it out and nearly screamed in a department store. I'm sure the employees thought I was crazy. I got in my car and drove to my closest home, which turned out to be the De Lucas' house.

This isn't my real home, but it's damn close. Plus, it's the only house with a bar that isn't locked. My dad didn't trust me with alcohol in his house, but here I knew I'd have easy access. I wanted to come here and tell my brother, but when I couldn't find him, I decided to celebrate with this whiskey.

Roman reacted exactly as I expected. He gives me nothing. Not a hint of my happiness. I would even accept irritation, but his face is smooth and clear, devoid of emotion. His Adam's apple jiggles as he takes another sip.

"What do you want? A birthday present?"

"Like I expected a birthday present from the devil," I smirk.

He smirks.

"You finally got what you wanted. You were just itching to tuck your tail between your legs and run away from home."

My stomach clenches.

"I'm not running."

"Don't lie to me, Elena. You're terrible at it," he says. "And you're running. It's bad enough your mother left, now you're trying to leave your brother and father behind too."

Something tightens in my chest. My fists clench. One thing about Roman De Luca: he’s a good judge of character, and he’s great at saying just the right thing so they don’t hurt him. I hate him. Sometimes I hate him so much.

“You’ll never understand what it’s like to be me,” I say quietly.

“Oh, please, spare me your chatter about wanting space and freedom. Your family is here to protect you. That’s all they’ve done since you were born. If you can’t see that, you don’t deserve them.”

“I’m not talking to you about that.”

“Yeah, let’s not,” he says, taking another sip of whiskey.

“You’re a terrible person.”

At least he's consistent. I just knew he'd find a way to ruin what made me happy.

He waves at me.

"Believe me, little wolf, I know. Harvard is a big deal, though. It's nice to see you use that big brain of yours," he says, nodding curtly.

I'm not stupid enough to think he's praising me.

"Don't be stupid, Elena. Boston is only a four-hour drive."

"Believe me, I know." That's the only reason I was allowed to apply.

"Okay. I hope you like it. Do whatever you want while you're in college. We both know you'll come back. You'll be a good little Italian girl and you'll come home.”

"Go away, Roman."

He just smiles. I decide I've spent enough time in his presence. After one last look, I jump off the counter. Unfortunately, I forgot that I was still slightly drunk. Roman moves quickly, reaching out and catching me before I hit the floor face-first.

His arms wrap around my waist. When those deep blue eyes meet mine, there's only one emotion shining brightly.

Pure, unadulterated hatred.

What have I ever done to you, Roman?

We both freeze, our eyes locked on each other. I am acutely aware of his touch on my waist. I can't remember the last time he willingly touched me.

The scent of his cologne surrounds me, musky and slightly citrusy. Roman's gaze slid over my lips, and for a second, I had the absurd thought that he would kiss me.

He lets go of me abruptly, and I fall backwards, my back hitting the countertop. My jaw clenches. I don't thank him for saving me from falling, and he doesn't say a word either.

I'm about to leave, but I think about it and turn around to say one more thing.

"Take care of weirdos two and three for me." He doesn't look at me, but I know he's listening. I continue. "As much as it pains me to admit it, you're probably the most responsible of all of us. Don't let my brother get STDs and make sure Mike doesn't get killed."

Roman smiles, amused.

"And why the hell should I do that for you?"

"Not for me, do it for your best friends. Do it for your family."

His eyes flicker over my face.

“As much as it pains me to admit it,” he says, echoing my words. “You’re part of my family, too. Don’t let anything happen to you, Elena. If it does, I’ll burn Boston to the ground.”

I nod knowingly before walking away. I know this is the last time I’ll talk to him before I leave for college. But he’s wrong: he said I’d come home like a good little Italian girl. But I don’t have any plans.

Even after I graduate, I won’t go back to New York. I’ll get a job and be happy and content. I will do everything not to fit into the framework that was laid out for me. After all, I would not be Elena Legan if I did not resist.

***