Paige
“What do we do first?” I ask.
It feels like my acceptance transported us to some alternate dimension so we can play this game.
“We talk the way we would if we’d met each other here.”
A little smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. “You do know you’d most probably have more of a chance meeting me in a library than here, right?”
“Yes, but in this game, we meet here, and we start with a drink.”
I glance at the wine in my hands.
“Take a sip of your wine. Tell me if you like it,” he instructs.
I’m not a big wine drinker. Probably because I’m used to the cheap stuff you get on discount at the convenience store. I take a sip and can tell straight away that this is the good stuff reserved for the rich. It’s sweet and exotic with a mellow chill to it that I like.
“Wow,” I muse.
“You like it?”
“Yes.” I glance at the bottle. It’s a Malvasia and there’s a little illustration of a vineyard on the label.
“It’s one of my favorites. It’s Italian. From Northeastern Sicily.”
“Sicily?” It sounds so exotic. I’m lucky enough to say I’ve been to the Caribbean. Dad took me and Mom on a cruise for the summer when I was twelve. That was when he got his first promotion at the precinct.
“Yes. That’s where I’m from. Born and nearly raised.”
“Really?”
“Yes, my mother loved living there, but my father had his heart set on living here, like my uncles and my grandparents.”
I smile at that and study him. “I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. I just imagine it to be nice there.”
He gives me an embracing stare. “It is. There are all sorts of things to do.” He sits forward. “Your turn. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Is that your way of asking me again what I’m doing here?”
“No, it’s a question with no hidden agenda.”
“Well, I… don’t exactly have anything as interesting as you. I’ve lived in Chicago all my life, and I got a scholarship to Raventhorne.” Telling people I got a scholarship is usually so exciting. Or at least it was. I should be honored too that the university kept the placement open for me while I was taking care of Mom, but the fact that she’s sick again and I have to face that I’m not doing so well here isn’t cause for celebration.
“You can dance,” he points out with a dazzling smile. “I saw you.”
“Yeah. I can dance.”
“Looked like you had some skills there.”
“I can dance to… anything.” It’s true. First Mom started me off with ballet when I was five, then I did contemporary and some other popular styles of dances. Then the summer I turned ten I snuck into the cinema with my cousin to watch Dirty Dancing and Strictly Ballroom. After that everything changed.
“Anything?”
“I did it when I was little. Then I discovered I wanted to be a lawyer and that became my everything.” I take another sip of my wine.
“Interesting. Okay… my turn, but I want you to ask the questions.”
Questions for him?I have a ton.