“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetie I just want you to be happy.”
“Then let me go back to college. Adrian is not here anymore, Columbia is all that I have right now.” I feel a soft tear in my eye. I try my hardest to hold in, without much success. My mom pulls me close to her, she whispers in my ear,
“Darling, he will be back, I know it.” I sigh and I glance at her.
“I hope that you are right.”
The car comes to a stop at the doors of Columbia. The driver quickly gets out and opens the door. I step out into the snow and I look around at my familiar surroundings. The driver takes my bags from the trunk of the car and holds them tightly in his grasp. My mom gets out the car and looks irritated by the view.
“Are you sure about this?” She says in an accepting voice.
“Yes, I am positive.” I say trying to convince to her. She watches as I walk away with the driver who still carries my bags. I enter the massive college and I reminded of a time when I entered with Adrian. Everyone stared and I was privileged to be with him. I quickly get him out of my mind; I do not want to cry again. I walk as fast as I can down the hallways of Columbia. I see familiar faces as I pass by. Everyone is staring, and I do not know why. I walk further along and I am almost at my room. I hear someone call my name, I turn around and I see Marco.
“Alanna, hey, how are you?” He says in a slow tone. He looks different; his hair is longer and much curlier than before. He also looks as if he has lost some weight. His usual bulging muscles are nowhere in sight and his clothes are different too. He has on a simple black t-shirt and pair of grey sweats. I glance at him, wondering what is wrong.
“I am fine, how are you?” I say.
“Okay…” He says in a soothing tone.
“What is wrong?”
“I don’t know what mean, I am fine,” he says trying to persuade me.
“That doesn’t wash with me, what’s up?” I insist. He runs his long tanned fingers through his hair; he looks at the driver who is standing ever so close to us. He takes me by the arm and leads me over next to the lockers. He takes a deep breath,
“You are right, I am not okay.” I do not say anything in response I just glance at him.
“My family is ruined.”
“How, what happened?” He, again, runs his finger through his hair; he places his finger gently onto the bridge of his large nose. I can tell this is going to take a while and that he feels distressed.
“Marco, maybe it is better if we discuss this in my room.” He smiles,
“Yes, thanks Alanna.” I lead the way to my room, with Marco and the driver following behind me. When we arrive at the door, Marco takes my bags from the driver and I thank him and send him on his way, as I do not want to keep my mom waiting all day. I push open the door and in I walk. My room looks the same, the same pink bed sheets, and the same smell of Chanel no5 that always fills the room. I walk over to my bed and instruct Marco to put my bags down next to the dressing table. He does, and then he sits on Sophie’s bed. He looks highly stressed and I feel that he desperate to talk.
“Okay, tell me what is wrong.” He takes a very deep breath as he begins to explain why he is so emotional.
“My parents are getting a divorce.” He finally says.
“What - they seemed like the perfect couple, what happened?”
“My mother happened.” I wonder what she did, so I ask him.
“What did she do?”
“When we were in Italy over the New Year,” he says and I am immediately reminded of the night when he had asked me to go away with him. I shake those thoughts from my mind and I focus back to Marco.
“Go on.”
“She met up with her former boyfriend and I guess she stared things up with him again. She has left my father and has now moved to Italy to be with that bastard.” I gasp, I am finding this difficult to take in. I am not sure what I can say to him.
“I am sorry, I had no idea.” He walks over to me and takes my hand.
“I don’t expect you to care, after everything you have been through. However, you are the only person I have told about this.” I am amazed by his confession and I am very aware that he is holding my hand. I do not want to offend him by pulling back but I do not want to feel close to him, in this way. He is just a guy that I know and, not well enough ,to feel comfortable with him holding me. I try to ignore his big clammy hand and focus on his face.
“I won’t tell anybody and, I do care, after what I went through it really puts things into perspective. You have to feel lucky for the things you have in life. I know you feel annoyed right now, but she is your mom. You love her, and she loves you.” He lets go of my hand and runs it again through his hair.