I tense on the spot, my spine turning as rigid as a board. “I already told you. I was homesick.”

Josh touches my knee, making me look at him. “Chiara, I know we’ve just met, but you can trust me, okay? If someone did something to you that you didn’t want them to, you can tell me. I won’t judge, but I’ll kick his ass.”

Dio Santo. I think Josh suspects someone sexually assaulted me. Well, someone did kiss me, but it was something I more than welcomed, even if later I regretted my weakness.

I cover his hand with mine and smile feebly.

“Thanks, Josh. I do appreciate your concern. Don’t worry. It wasn’t anything like that.”

Relief washes over his face. I think this time he believes me. Good. I couldn’t have him worrying like that.

“Do you have a boyfriend back home?” he asks.

Uh-oh. Dangerous territory. It never bodes well when a guy asks if you have a boyfriend. I don’t owe Alistair anything, so there’s nothing keeping me from finding a new guy, but Josh is one of the good ones. I can’t string him along while I’m pining for someone else.

“Yes and no. It’s complicated.”

“Oh.”

I hear the disappointment in Josh’s voice, which makes me feel bad for my half-truth.

Trust me, Josh. You want to stay far away from this train wreck here.

“I met him in Tuscany last July. It was supposed to be a summer fling, you know, but it evolved into something more.”

“Ah, I see. Now you’re here and he’s back in Italy, I assume?”

I almost reveal part of the truth that Alistair lives in LA. But Josh is too smart, and he would be able to connect the dots in no time. So I lie.

“Yes.”

“Well, that sucks. But long-distance relationships can work.”

“He’s married,” I blurt and then lower my gaze, cursing my big mouth. “I mean, he’s separated, but he’s still officially married. I feel betrayed in a sense, and also dirty. I’m not a home-wrecker.”

Josh doesn’t say anything for a long time, and when I look up, I catch him staring out in the distance.

“Josh, are you still here with me?”

He shakes his head and looks at me. “Yes, of course. I was just thinking about what you said. I don’t think you should feel that way. You didn’t know he was married at the time, and he’s separated. A piece of paper linking him and his wife doesn’t really mean much. The most important connection”—he points at my heart—“is what should matter. Do you love him?”

Wow. That was deep shit from an eighteen-year-old dude. I know I’m in love with Alistair, but do I love him? Those two feelings are not necessarily the same thing. How can you love someone you don’t know?

“My legs turn into jelly, and I get butterflies in my stomach when I think about him. I think I’m in love with him, which is super crazy. We only spent a weekend together.”

“No, not crazy at all. I believe true love happens like that, suddenly, devastatingly.”

I pay close attention to Josh. “You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

“Not my personal experience. My parents. Their story is not so different than yours. They met when they were in Spain on a month-long trip to learn the language. They said it was love at first sight. The funny thing is they lived their entire lives only a few blocks from each other. They even went to the same high school. But they had to travel across the ocean to find each other and fall in love.”

“That’s a beautiful story, Josh. You should turn it into a movie.”

“Maybe I will. Although, I have no desire to make sappy movies a la Nicholas Sparks.”

“Shut up. I love The Notebook.”

He chuckles. “Sure. You love Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.”

“Whatever. It was a beautiful love story. How about you? Any special lady in your life?”

Josh frowns and looks away. “Nope. I don’t have time for relationships. I want to focus on turning my passion into a career, because nothing can take that away from me.”

I mull over his words, thinking inevitably about Alistair. My sadness returns, but also anger.

“You’re right. Fuck love. Like Tina Turner said, it’s a secondhand emotion, anyway.”

21

Alistair

I’m the stupidest motherfucker on the planet. I kissed Chiara, and in my office to boot. Anyone could have walked in, ending my teaching career in a minute and also giving Nadine everything she needs to get what she wants. We’re separated, but her lawyer would no doubt twist it around since Chiara is my student. Nadine is not beyond blackmailing me.

I should be more concerned about that, but all I can think about is how Chiara crumbled in my office. I wasn’t imagining things. There was more to her reaction than simple ego bruising.

Damn it. I thought she was only after a distraction in Italy. That made sense when she bailed without saying goodbye. I won’t lie and say it didn’t upset me, but I chalked it up as hurt male pride. What if Italy was more than just careless fun for both of us?

No, I can’t entertain those thoughts. I have to cut all strings before things get more complicated. It’s obvious I can’t be trusted to be alone with her, so I have to get her out of my system for good.

I need to get laid.

I text Enzo and ask what his plans are for the weekend. He’s the social butterfly in my tight group of friends and the wingman I need. He replies thirty minutes later saying he’s going to a party at the Hills on Friday. I groan. That means a party filled with wannabe celebrities, not exactly my scene anymore. But it’s either that or take cold showers every time I picture Chiara naked under me. I reply that I’m game, and then I get ready to tackle another task I had been procrastinating: reading and grading Chiara and Josh’s paper.

I’m afraid it won’t be good and I’ll be forced to give her a low grade. She’ll think I’m retaliating if that’s the case. Fuck. What a mess.

I get to it, because the work won’t get done with me just staring at the screen. As I begin to read, the tension slowly leaves my body. They selected three well-written screenplays and their analysis is good. They could have dove deeper in some areas, but overall, it’s a solid B-plus.

As I upload the document with my notes and post the final grade online, I instinctively know Chiara won’t be happy about it. I checked her transcripts from Italy. She was at the top of her class.

I can’t help the feeling of pride that spreads across my chest. It goes beyond what a teacher should feel toward a pupil. All educators want their students to do well, but my desire to see Chiara succeed goes further than that.

Irritated with the conflicting emotions bouncing inside my head, I put on the meditation track Caio recommended a few months ago. I was skeptical at first, but after a few tries, I realized that listening to it for a few minutes does help me focus afterward.

I don’t achieve a Zen state of mind this time because I’m interrupted by Forrester, DuBose’s principal. He knocks on my door and pushes it open before I even have the chance to reply. His mop of gray hair appears through the crack, probably to make sure I’m alone before he opens the door all the way and walks in.

“Hi, Alistair, do you have a minute?”

I pull my earphones off and watch my friend warily. It’s not like him to make unannounced appearances. The fact that if he had come by twenty minutes earlier, he would have caught me with Chiara twists my guts into knots.