I wake up with the sun in my eyes.
If anything, it exacerbates my headache. I flip over to my stomach and cover my face with my pillow to block it out. I don't have the energy to stand up and close the curtains.Last night's events race through my mind, and the force of my disgust is enough to make me sit up and get out of bed. I draw the curtains before entering the bathroom. I take a long warm shower, but it does nothing to soothe me. I'm still thinking about Luca Ferrante and the bottle of champagne with an anger that is unknown to me. I've never felt this angry before. I'm shocked by his impertinence.But there's something else deep down that I can't identify, and this unidentified emotion is adding another layer of depth to this poisonous cocktail of emotions inside me.Could it be fear?I don't answer the question as I close the taps and get out of the shower. Once I'm in my room, I take two ibuprofen and get dressed. It's past eleven o'clock, which means I've missed breakfast. Good. I didn't want to sit beside mom and hear her make plans for the future, a future where she is the mother-in-law of Luca Ferrante. Just thinking of his name makes me sick to my stomach. I don't know why his gesture hit me so hard, but it has. Maybe when my head is clearer, I'll be able to explain to myself why I'm so furious.My hair is dried and I've simply pinned it to the back of my head with a claw. I get dressed in beige pants and a light white blouse paired with my favorite sandals and make my way downstairs. I can smell seafood in the kitchen, and it makes my mouth water. I greet Constance warmly and ask her if there are any leftovers from breakfast."No," she answers. "But I can make you something else.""I'll just have some plain yogurt and granola," I tell her. I offer to make it myself, but she refuses. Constance has been working for our family for years. I was seven when she was employed. There's enough intimacy between us that I can ask her what she thinks of the Ferrante family, and that's what I do."They're proud," she answers after a moment's pause. "But I can't say that they're particularly unpleasant. Luca is a handsome man, wouldn't you say? Not too bad for an arranged marriage.""Don't say that," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. The painkillers haven't kicked in yet.She laughs heartily. "Well, you never know what will happen. He might marry Mary instead. She's demure, and a proper lady. He'll only choose you if he's willingly looking for trouble. So, I think you're safe."I gasp. It's a genuine, horrified gasp. "You think I'm trouble? What does it even mean to be a proper lady? What's proper? I'm not a lady?"She slides the bowl toward me and raises a hand. She looks amused. "Forget I said anything."I narrow my eyes at the back of her head before grabbing the bowl and heading toward the dining room. "You sound like mom!"Constance ignores me.I'm glad to see that the table is back where it's supposed to be. I sit in my usual place and finish my breakfast. The house is quiet, but there's nothing unusual about this. Dad works all day, mom is always out of the house doing something, and Mary, well, she's mostly to herself. She likes to read and study, and since she's almost graduating, she's been busier than usual. It took her two years to figure out what she wanted to do, but she's truly passionate about what she's doing now. I don't envy her, but I do wish that I could find something that I wouldn't mind spending my time on. I do understand that I can't spend the rest of my life in my parent's house, not because I think it's inappropriate, but because staying here means living under the same roof as my mother, and that's not something I want.Mary warned me about this. She told me to pick something or I would regret it in the long run. I haven't started regretting it yet, but it sure would be great to be graduating this year. Mary hopes to become financially independent so she won't have to depend on mom and dad for money. Well, that was before this whole marriage thing came about. If she marries Luca Ferrante, she won't even need her degree, but that thought makes me wonder. How do we know if the rumors are true? Maybe they are as 'broke' as we are. Some things are simply too good to be true. This has to be one of those things.Thinking about Mary makes me want to see her, so I decide to do just that. I make my way upstairs after dropping my empty bowl in the kitchen and knock on her door."It's me," I say."Come on in."She's sprawled on her bed with books all around her. Her glasses are mounted high on her head. She smiles at me warmly and pats an empty spot on her bed for me to sit down."How are you feeling?" she asks, searching my face. "I heard when you came home last night. It was pretty late, wasn't it?"I blush. "Yeah.""Did you have fun?"I nod again. "I did.""Is mom downstairs?""No, I think she went out. She's probably celebrating with Yvette and the others. I bet she's so proud of herself after yesterday."Mary nods. Color creeps into her cheeks. It's not the first time that I notice that she blushes whenever the Ferrantes are mentioned. Well, the last time, they weren't mentioned. She was looking at Luca with a red face. I have to get to the bottom of this. I have to know what she thinks. Before, we were in the same boat. We were both appalled by the idea.Somehow, I don't think that that's the case now."How do you feel about all of this?" I ask carefully while watching her intently. "You know, after we met them and all."The red deepens. "I don't think they're so bad."I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn't. She's acting like she's engrossed in the passage in front of her, but her eyes are out of focus. I ask, "Is that all you have to say?"She looks up at me. "I don't understand what else there is to say, Laura. What do you think about them?""I think they're disgustingly proud," I state. My voice is too loud, so I attempt to calm myself down. "I guess that, in many ways, that is exactly what I was expecting."She frowns. "That's unfair.""Is it?" I ask angrily. "You saw how they acted when I mentioned that I wasn't in school. Why would that matter so much to anyone else? What pissed me off is that a degree isn't important where we're from. Why study when we're fucking killing and committing crimes for money?""Calm down," she says gently.I stand up and pace the bedroom. I'm far from calm now. She says to me, "Laura, it's either we find them agreeable or we cry about it for the rest of our lives. That man might still choose one of us."I turn to her sharply. I'm glad we're touching on the subject. "And what about him? What did you think of him?"Mary blushes again, and I know what she'll say before she utters a word. "He's alright," she replies, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I mean, he was nothing like I imagined. We imagined, I mean.""How so?" I ask. I don't know why I want to know so badly. I just do.She shrugs. "Well, he's well-mannered and calm. He has a kind look in his eyes. I mean, it feels like everything we heard about him was a lie. You remember how horrified we were when we overheard dad telling mom that he's killed countless people."I gulp. I had forgotten that momentarily. I lower my head. I can't say that I disagree with her. I felt the same thing over lunch, but after last night, something changed a little. "Yeah.""And he's handsome," she says, stretching her legs. "That's a bonus, isn't it?"I look at Mary and don't answer her. What happened last night is on the tip of my tongue. I wonder what she'll think of his behavior then. Will she find it perfectly normal? Will she knock some sense into me? Still, I can't do it. I can't say it."Oh, Laura," she says, rising from her bed. She walks toward me and grabs my shoulders gently. "It's going to be alright.""I know," I say, although I don't."Mom says that she thinks he'll choose me," she says confidently. "You know, since I'm the oldest and all." And is about to get a degree. She doesn't have to mention it. I know. "That is if he chooses us at all. So, don't worry. You're perfectly safe. It'll be my burden to carry."I look into her eyes and wish to tell her that I don't want her to carry such a burden, but the expression on her face stops me. She doesn't look like she'll be carrying any burden. She's quite content about all of this.Mary wants to marry Luca Ferrante.For some reason, this makes me sadder than everything else that has happened so far.It's been a slow day, and I haven't been this irritated in a while. My conversation with Mary has ruined my mood entirely. I should be relieved that she's genuinely excited about this but something about this whole affair reeks to me. I have a bad feeling about all of this and I can't explain why. I just do. Mary and I didn't speak for the remainder of the day. It's not that I'm upset about her answer—I should actually be relieved about this. It's that I know that her words are a projection of our mother, and so she might not be genuine about this. It's no secret that mom wants her to marry that guy, and what Mary is doing is bringing mom's wish to life with her acceptance. It's sad and there's nothing that I can do about it. It just is. I wanted to leave earlier to have lunch with Victoria and Brett, but Constance told me that mom wanted us all together when she arrived, and so this ruined my plans. I'm beyond irritated at this point, and it feels like the world is conspiring aga
I hate that despite my unwillingness to attend this wedding, I'm ready on time. Not being ready on time would start another argument with my mom, but as much as I would like to argue with her, it's better to keep things the way they are. I know how she can get when she doesn't have her way, and I don't want that at the moment. I want to attend this damned wedding and see the end of this awful day. I check my reflection in the mirror. I'm fairly satisfied with it. There were more beautiful dresses in my closet, but since she wants me to wear this one, I will. I don't care how I look. It's not that it's a bad dress; it's too plain for a wedding. Weddings are glamorous affairs for people like us, and most of the time, the women wear designer dresses. Mom bought this dress at a store I've never even heard of. I don't know what she's thinking, but I won't challenge her. Again, I couldn't care less. After accessorizing, I make my way downstairs. Mom is there with her arms folded, and sh
Our eyes meet occasionally, and I can't seem to understand why he keeps looking at me. Mom and Mary joined me as soon as dad arrived a few minutes ago. Mom scolds him for being late, but he makes no reply. We glance at each other, and his exhaustion becomes mine. She keeps going on and on about how bad he made the family look, and he simply bows his head in greeting to anyone we know who walks by. Mom stops momentarily and forces a smile but as soon as they're out of earshot, she continues with her pointless speech. I feel Mary glance at me but I'm still mad at her for reasons I can't comprehend myself, not fully. Maybe I began fearing her duplicity for the first time ever. I've never seen her friendliness with mom as a threat, not until today. There's a lot I've said to her about the way I feel about mom, and if she reported everything back, well...Deep down, I know I'm being unreasonable. I know Mary. I know she isn't like that. But the fear won't leave my bones and I don't know h
I'm shocked to see him standing in front of me. What does he want? He's holding a glass of champagne. It's full, and he twists it around in his hand without spilling his drink. I'm distracted by the sloshing golden liquid for a few beats, and then I look back at his face. His eyes are searching mine keenly, and I'm torn between ignoring him and demanding to know what he wants from me. I decide to go with the latter. "May I help you with anything?" I ask sarcastically. His mouth quirks. "Not unless you're serving canapés."I grit my teeth. I shouldn't have said anything. I take a sip of champagne and unwillingly remember the bottle of champagne from last night. God, I can't believe that was just last night. It feels like ages ago. He glances at the glass in my hand meaningfully but says nothing. I can tell that he's thinking about the same thing as I. I tilt my head back and drink the last of the champagne. The silence between us is beyond awkward. I don't know why he felt the n
I wake up to a knock on my bedroom door. I look around the room. I slept through the night. I didn't think I would. I came home fuming because I was in no mood to meet up with my friends. Mom had managed to ruin my whole week with her words and attitude concerning Luca Ferrante. Sometimes I close my eyes and can't believe that actually happened. To be frank, I'm not surprised, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm less hurt by what she said and did. It was no surprise to me that she meant to arrange a marriage between Mary and Luca, but telling me to stay away from him was taking it a step too far, even for her standards. The dress. The speech. It's all messing with my head. I don't remember feeling this angry with something she did, and so the best thing that I can do is keep my distance from her. If she tries to tell me something else regarding the issue this morning, my response won't be pleasing to her. There's the knock again. It interrupts my train of thought. I had forg
There's a card inside which has been rolled up and tied with yet another piece of red ribbon. I'm frightened now and I can't explain why. This isn't an ordinary gift. I don't know anyone who would send me this. Luca Ferrante springs to mind and it makes me even more terrified. This can't be from him. Surely, it can't. I pick up the rolled-up card and slide the ribbon off. The card has been typed, and as soon as my eyes skim it, I realize what this is about. It's an invitation to a masquerade party. My name is on the invite, and it says I can bring a friend along. There's no name on the invitation or anywhere in the box, so I don't know who sent me this. I tell myself that at least it wasn't Luca Ferrante. But if not him, then who?I read the invitation again. A masquerade tomorrow evening? I'm not interested. I don't trust it simply because I don't know who invited me. I can’t go to a party when I don’t know who’s throwing it. That’s asking for unnecessary trouble. I close the box
"How does this look?" Victoria asks. "Does it look better with my hair up or down?"Brett sighs. "Just do whatever. Jesus.""Up," I tell her. "You've got a long and elegant neck. Show it off. There's no reason why you should keep your hair long."She starts pinning her hair up and I stare at my reflection for the twentieth time. I'm all dressed up, and my fear is that we'll show up to this masquerade looking utterly ridiculous. Victoria assured me that it's a formal event, but she's throwing this party without knowing if people will abide to the rules. People normally don't. It's quite possible that we'll see people dressed in cowboy suits. "I feel like I'm going to a wedding," Brett comments. He then turns to wink at me. "Maybe yours with the Italian stallion."I glare at him. "I didn't find that funny.""It wasn't meant to be funny.""Like this?" Victoria asks, turning so we have a view of the back of her head. I nod and tell her it looks perfect. Brett says nothing at all, just go
I don't figure out what it is either. Not anytime soon. "I need a break," I say to Brett. "I need a bathroom break."He doesn't hear me. Neither does Victoria. I give up trying to make them listen to me and find my own way to the bathroom. It's not hard to find. It's in the room across from the one we were in. I walk down a long and narrow corridor to get there, and on my way there I see a couple making out in the dark. They don't stop when they hear me approach. I'm more weirded out by the fact that they were making out with masks on than them not stopping when I neared them. The bathroom is cool and clean. It's also empty. I lock myself in one of the stalls and empty my bladder. I'm glad I stayed. I'm having a good time despite my hesitance earlier. The door to the bathroom opens and two or more women shuffle inside. One of them is crying hysterically, and I feel so out of place that I hold my breath so I don't interrupt what's happening. "I can't believe him!" one of them is s