PART TWENTY-SEVEN | NEW YORK FOR GOOD

Hush. Don't tell anyone about my favorite ice cream flavor, okay?

"Tara-Jane."

The ice cream is still dripping on my hand. It feels sticky and cold. The cone is not in a proper shape anymore, it gets mushy and far from appealing. His eyes catch the melted ice cream on my hand. I notice a slight frown on his forehead, maybe he is aware that the flavor I pick is not as usual.

Jeremy is here, in my kitchen at Modena. Standing on the door frame, I have the liberty to observe my surroundings. He is wearing shorts that I never saw before, with a green shirt. A perfect combination in my cream-colored kitchen wall. A backpack is placed next to the barstool where he sits. His skin looks a bit pale, maybe because he always works in the room during the summer, or it is me and my friends who get a darker skin. My judgment is biased.

Saint joins me, standing in front of the kitchen door. His hand touches me, placing it on my shoulder. "Why are you running?" Saint asks. Sweats are formed on his forehead. That is not my fault if he is so persistent to chase me. I glance at Jeremy. His eyes are already shifting to Saint's hand on me.

I free myself from Saint's hand. Sauntering to the counter and dropping the tote bag full of vegetables and fruits. Then without any hesitation, I throw the ice cream in the bin and wash my hands. Jeremy doesn't comment on my behavior of wasting food, considering that he loves food so much.

Miko helps me t0 organize the vegetables in the refrigerator. Julia, on the other hand, senses an awkwardness engulfing the room. She clears her throat and says, "Saint, this is Jeremy, TJ's boyfriend. Jeremy, this is Saint, Candice's bandmate."

Jeremy rises from the chair and extends his hand for a handshake. He smiles and says, "Nice to meet you, Saint." Hearing his voice again makes my heart burst with joy.

"Nice to meet you too, Jeremy. I heard a lot about you," Saint says. "Quitting the team?" His eyes travel down to Jeremy's right ankle. I frown at his gesture. But it doesn't surprise me anymore.

"Yeah," Jeremy says.

"Such a waste, man," Saint replies, indifferent. "What do you do now?"

Jeremy shoves his hand to his shorts pocket. "Working part-time," Jeremy says. "Studying for the final exam."

Saint laughs. "Interesting," he says to no one in particular.

"You need to talk to him," Miko whispers to me.

I glance at her. This must be her idea to bring Jeremy here. Miko walks out of the kitchen, leaving me with a bag full of fruits. She glances at Julia for a while before reaching the door. Then Julia clears her throat, announcing she needs fresh air. "Come with me, Saint," she says, dragging Saint out from the kitchen. He whines, but Julia's hand already pulls him to the exit.

I continue to arrange the fruits in a bowl while Jeremy walks closer to me. My heart thumps crazily. The thump gets louder to every step he takes. He leans his back to the counter next to me and says, "Hey."

I glance at him for a split second. Then back to the fruits.

"I met your mother," he says. "At the supermarket."

"Yeah?" I say, without looking at him.

"She seemed lost," he says. "She wanted me to take her to the cemetery."

I place the last apple in the bowl. Staring at the pyramid of fruits, I say, "Thank you for taking care of her. I miss the old Mom."

"I missed you," he says after a long pause.

The words may be short and simple, but it soothes me. Warmer than the summer air. Something that I want to hear from him for a long time. Convincing me that he feels the same way.

"Do you miss me?" Jeremy asks.

"Isn't that obvious?" I say to the fruits in front of me.

Jeremy lets a deep chuckle, amused by my answer. He leans in to plant a kiss on my bare shoulder. "You just have to say it," he mumbles to my skin.

I couldn't help but smile. "I missed you, Jer," I say finally. The burden on my chest is lifted all of sudden. "You're not coming here just to see me, right?"

"No, of course not," he says with a mischievous smile on his face. "I am just starting my travel plan earlier. Italy seems a good choice."

He grabs an apple from the peak of the pyramid I made and walks to the sink, turning on the water. "How about your work?" I ask.

He shrugs then brings the apple to his mouth. A crunching sound is made when he bites it. "I ask for a break," he says while munching the fruit delicately. I enjoy watching him eat. How his jaw clenches and relaxes repetitively. The dimple on his left cheek is appearing and vanishing back and forth.

I outstretch my hand to his face, placing my thumb and forefinger on his cheeks. I squeeze it lightly and sweep my lips on the depression of his cheek. "Welcome to Italy," I say.

Jeremy grins cheekily. "Grazie," he says.

I laugh at his attempt to speak Italian. "That's nice," I say.

He chuckles. "I am curious about somethin'," he says. "Is that red or orange?"

I frown. "What?"

"Your bikini color. You sent me pictures weeks ago," he says. "The lighting was not so clear."

I let out a little laugh. "Red. It's red," I say.

"No way. I thought it was orange," he says, his hands dramatically touching his chest. "Let's prove it now. Wear it."

I laugh. "That's just your excuse to see me in a bikini, isn't it?" I say, smacking his stomach. He ducks away and grabs my hand.

"Busted," he says with a grin on his face, kissing my knuckles.

*

The sky above is hovering over us. It is blue with a bit of a stroke of white. The ancient Roman building around us is made with painstaking attention to detail, mesmerizing. We have been strolling around the Zattere in Venice. Taking a train from Modena then sightseeing for almost one hour.

Jeremy holds my hand, sometimes caressing a calloused area on my palm. The first time he notices that he frowns his forehead. I tell him about me washing the dishes. Since then he would be in the kitchen, helping me.

Everyone seems to enjoy the trip except Saint. He has been in a sour mood since Jeremy arrived. He doesn't say much, but when he opens his mouth it is always in a sarcastic tone. Candice notices the change in his behavior. But she has no clue what is going on. She asks him several times what is wrong with him. Saint just shrugs it off, saying everything is alright.

I haven't had the guts to tell Candice about Saint's confession. It's not the right time. But deep down I feel the urge to say everything before Candice falling too deep into his trap. I couldn't see her heartbroken.

I walk slowly with Jeremy behind everyone. Enjoying our lone time together while eating our ice cream. Sometimes we stop by and he talks about the church, the palace, and the museums. His eyes are alive every time he talks about the Renaissance or Baroque architecture we find along the way.

"This is Cà Rezzonico," he says. "A Baroque building."

Then he shows me the differences with Renaissance architecture. "Renaissance façades tend to be symmetrical and incorporate with pillars and columns, using the Roman orders," he says. "Look.... This is Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite."

I lick my strawberry-flavored ice cream. "Where did you learn all of this?" I ask.

He looks at me. "I read," he says.

I ruffle his hair. "Oh! This sexy nerd," I say. "Tell me more about the pillar orders."

He chuckles and sweeps his ice cream on the tip of my nose. My breath hitches from the sudden cold. Jeremy leans in and licks the cream on my nose.

"Jer!" I squeal, scrunching my nose. "That's gross."

My hands are ready to smack his stomach but he is already pulling out. Running away from me with a chuckle. Instead of chasing him, I sit on the bench. He turns around to look at me, sitting idly while licking my ice cream.

He walks back to me with a grin plastered on his face. "What is it? Tired already, Tara-Jane?"

I glare at him. "Not gonna waste my energy," I say jokingly. He sits next to me, outstretching his long legs. We keep silent as we finish our ice cream. I fish a box of cigarettes from my tote bag, then hand it to him.

Jeremy cocks his eyebrow. "Is it mine?" He asks.

I nod. "I'm sorry, Jer," I say. "I stole it."

He accepts the box and shakes his head. "Naughty girl," he says. "You owe me a kiss for stealing it."

"Save it for a more private place," I say, sticking out my tongue. He chuckles but nods in agreement. Picking a cigarette from the box, he lights and puts it between his lips. He glances at me then extends the stick to me. I shake my head in response. "Now that you're here, I don't need it anymore."

His lips curve into a smile. We stare at the pavement in front of us. People walk in a different color: a pink loose shirt, black corduroy pants, a beige wide hat. Classic gondolas cruise at a glistening canal. Tearing the water gracefully.

"I have to leave early for college," Jeremy says. Detaching my eyes from a gondola in the canal, I look at him. Jeremy drags his cigarette and says, "There is this college in New York accepting me. A school of architecture. It's not a big one but, yeah, you know. It's something that I really wanna do in the future."

"Oh, wow. You didn't tell about this," I say. "I mean... It's good for you. Congratulations. I just a bit shock about the news. It's so sudden."

He looks at me. "M'sorry. I didn't mean to hide it from you or somethin' like that," he says. "I just gave a vague shot when I applied. Honestly, I didn't think that far to be accepted. As you knew, I already had planned to travel. But then I talked to Diane and my parents, there was this financial issue I had to consider."

I smile, placing my hand on his knee. "I'm happy for you," I say. "I really am. You're smart and talented. I'm sure you'll do great, Jer. What about the travel plan, then?"

"Postponed," he says, ticking the cigarette with his forefinger. The ash falls to the pavement below us.

"Don't worry about it," I say. "You'll fly to New York after graduation and after that, you can think about your travel plan."

He looks down at his shoes. "I don't go after graduation," he says.

I frown, confused. "I don't understand," I say.

"I have to go early. As I said," he says. "After summer ends."

"Oh," I say. "That's... so soon."

Jeremy looks at me with concern in his eyes. "Is that okay for you, Tara-Jane?"

"Is that okay with me?" I ask, chuckling at his question. "Sure. You have to continue your study. Don't mind me. You'll leave, eventually."

"It sounds so sad now," he says. "I keep thinking about having this conversation with you. But it is sadder than I think."

I smile, then run my hand on his hair. "You'll be alright," I say, placing my head on his shoulder. "We'll be alright."

Jeremy slings his arm on my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I inhale the scent around me. Vanilla, cherry, burned tobacco, and his citrusy perfume. Oh, and the Venetian restaurant at the end of the street is emanating a garlicky smell onto the air. Making my stomach grumbles.

Jeremy laughs. "Let's eat, Tara-Jane," he says.

***
Kudos to my beloved friend, Selvi, for introducing French Kiwi Juice to me in a rainy day. I attach his song as your companion to read this chapter.
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