Dark Heart (Dark Heart 1)

He looks blank.

“It’s at my friend Isa’s. We can go if you want, or not if you don’t want to.”

“Do you want to?”

“Sure. It sounds fun.”

It’s April 12, which means tonight is prom. I’m officially going alone, with Dani’s driver, Fil, picking me up. I’ll meet Luca at the dance. There’s an afterparty at Isa Arnoldi’s home that’s supposed to last till 3 a.m. My parents won’t let me spend the night with Dani, not after what happened the night of Luca’s game. Like six months ago.

So Mercer will pick me up from Isa’s house at 2:50.

Luca scoots closer to me. He cups his palms over my shoulders, runs his hands slowly down my arms. His fingers encircle my wrists as he leans in closer.

“Missed you yesterday…”

“I missed you more.” Our mingling breath smells minty from the gum I brought to our calc study sesh. I brush his lips with mine…a little feather kiss. Luca can’t hold back, and pretty soon I’m on his lap with his arm locked around my back, his free hand threaded in my hair, tugging as his mouth ravishes mine.

We kiss until my lips feel bruised and swollen. Then he tucks me against his chest—the place I most love to be. I hug him hard in return.

“Is everything okay at your house?” I murmur. He missed school yesterday, and his only explanation was that he had “something to deal with.”

“Yeah,” he says now. “Better today.”

I can feel him take a long breath, though, as if he’s tired. I hug him more tightly.

“Your family’s lucky to have you, you know.”

He sucks another big breath back and leans away.

“What’s wrong?” I murmur.

He lets go of me, putting space between us.

“Nothing.” It’s a rough whisper. He gives me a strained smile.

“You don’t feel that way…like they’re lucky?”

He laughs. I know him well enough by now to hear how forced it sounds.

“Seriously though. How can you not see this?”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t see it,” he says, sounding defensive.

“But you can’t. I can tell it makes you feel weird when I say it.”

“What, that they’re lucky to have me?” His face hardens. “They’re not lucky. And how do they have me? I come here for school. I want to go to college somewhere, and I would if I could.”

“Do you really plan to not go?”

He shuts his eyes, then opens them again and looks down at the bench. “I could do a two-year school.” His jaw ticks.

“Luca. Robert Malone told me that you’re ahead of him, and he’s been top of our class since freshman year.”

He blinks, blank-faced. “Yeah, so what.” He swallows, and I can see how hard he’s fighting to keep feelings off his face.

“So you deserve to have a life. A really above-average life.”

“People who do two-year school only ever have average lives?”

“Of course not—that’s not what I’m saying at all, you know it’s not. But Robert said you got a scholarship to Columbia.” My voice cracks on the words I’m not supposed to say.

Luca’s eyes narrow. “He told you that?”

“He told me his guidance counselor told him. Or like…implied that it was you. He…said you got a full ride, Luca.” I’m surprised at the tears that fill my eyes when I say it aloud. I’m even more surprised by Luca’s face, which softens instantly.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He’s moving closer to me, touching my hair, then pulling me up against him. “Don’t be sad, la mia rosa. I’m sorry, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you.” He sighs, a soft sound, and drops his face down to my shoulder. I can feel his warm breath on my throat. Then he lifts his head back up and looks into my eyes. “I love you, la mia rosa.”

“I love you il mio cuore.”

His eyes shut.

I called him ‘my heart.’ “I looked that up on our computer so I could say something back to you.”

My cheeks burn. He kisses my lips gently.

“We’ll figure something out,” I hear him whisper. My heart’s racing, and I’m warm all over. In that moment, I believe we will.Chapter FourteenEliseIt’s going to be a good night. I can tell as soon as I get home from school. Dad is home from work already, set up in his office drinking gin and tonic. When I poke my head into the room to say hi, he gives me a big smile.

“Are you ready for your special night?”

I nod, and he surprises me by standing up and walking around his desk to hug me.

“Safety first,” he tells me. “Don’t drink from a Solo cup.” He quirks one of his dark brows, and I laugh even as I pray that topic doesn’t come up.

A few weeks after my grounding ended, Dad said sorry. He even said that maybe he had been “too much a lawyer and not enough father” that night he found me at the party.