Chapter Text
Alberto woke with a start at the sound of three rapid knocks on this bedroom door. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, still half-asleep, and confused as to why he was being awoken.
“It’s me, open up!” He became slightly more alert when he realized the voice on the other end of the door was Luca’s and not Giulia’s or his adopted father. No offense to either of them, but if he was going to be ripped away from his slumber without warning, he would be most happy to see Luca’s smiling face rather than Massimo and Machiavelli gearing him up for a fishing trip, or Giulia blaring her imaginary trumpet.
“It’s unlocked! Come in!” Alberto yelled back. He slightly regretted his decision when he realized how messy his room was, but it was nothing that Luca hadn’t seen.
Luca pushed the door open, shifting a pile of clothes and shoes to the side as he did so.
“Hi,” he said. He was carrying an astronomy book, a sketchpad, and a pencil.
“You forgot your shoes,” Alberto commented.
“I donated them to the poor.”
“Huh?” Alberto quirked his head, wondering why Luca would do such a thing.
“I’m just joking Alberto!” Luca laughed, and the sound tugged the corner of Alberto’s mouth into a smile. “I just got out of the water. I went for a morning swim while I waited for you to wake up, but then lunch passed and you never did, so I decided to come over.”
Alberto instantly felt bad. It had been a month since Luca and Giulia had returned from their year five studies in Genova and Alberto had spent almost everyday with them. They were too old to compete in the Portorosso cup, so they used up most of their time swimming and exploring different hideouts around the island. They all knew their time was limited since Luca and Giulia would return to Genova in the fall to resume their studies, so they tried not to waste it doing things like sleeping past lunch. However, today was a special circumstance. Giulia had gone to visit a friend for the past few days, so it was only Luca and Alberto. Unfortunately, Alberto had gone to bed the night prior with a fever, and it had only seemed to get worse.
“Ugh sorry I-” Alberto began before Luca interrupted him.
“You look a little pale.”
“I still look more Italian than you do.”
“Everybody looks more Italian than I do. Pick it up with the people who handed me their genes.”
“Okay, okay,” Alberto said, noticing that Luca seemed a little irritated. “So you brought your sketchpad.” Luca had picked up drawing when he moved to Genova the first time. Inspired by Alberto’s drawing of them on the Vespa, he began to hone his own artistic abilities.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to show me your drawings?” Alberto asked.
“No. I'm going to sketch you.”
“What if I don’t want to be sketched?”
“How am I going to be an artist if I can’t practice?” Luca questioned.
“Don't artists' models get paid?”
“Only the ones that are good-looking?”
Luca smiled. “Don’t be an asshole.” He seemed embarrassed. But not as embarrassed as Alberto was. The darker boy could feel himself turning red.
“So you’re really going to be an artist?” Alberto asked, changing the subject.
“Absolutely,” Luca said, staring into his eyes. “I’m gonna draw the fish in the sky.” The both of them laughed at Luca’s joke, remembering their early misunderstanding of space.
“Okay, well I need evidence,” Alberto teased.
Luca moved over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room as Alberto sat on his bed. “You still look sick.”
Thanks.”
“Maybe it’s your dreams.”
“Maybe,” Alberto mumbled. He didn’t want to talk about his dreams.
“I used to have dreams that I would run away to the surface and get hunted by a land monster,” Luca offered.
“That was when you were a good kid,” Alberto chuckled and Luca laughed with him.
Alberto was glad that Luca had come over. He hated being sick. It made him feel fragile, as if he might break. But laughing with Luca made him feel better.
“I want to draw you,” Luca suddenly blurted out, his cheeks slightly tinting red.
“Can I stop you?”
“You’re the one who said you needed evidence.”
Luca tossed the astronomy book that he had brought towards Alberto. It landed on the bed, next to him, with a thud. “Read this. You read. I’ll draw.” Then, Luca got quiet. His eyes darted around the messy room, taking in the piles of clothes and letters, the strewn about pillows, and the cat toys. Alberto felt nervous and awkward and self conscious and uncomfortable. He didn’t know if he liked or didn’t like Luca’s eye’s on him. He just knew that he felt naked, but there was something happening between Luca and his sketchpad that made him feel invisible, and that made him relax.
“Make me look good,” Alberto joked.
“Read, just read.”
It didn’t take long for Alberto to forget that Luca was drawing him. He just read, and read, and read. Though he didn’t really understand much of what he was reading, he enjoyed the pictures of the planets and stars that the book showcased. Every now and then, he would look up at Luca, but the other boy was lost in his work. Eventually, Alberto fell asleep and when he woke up, Luca was gone.
Alberto walked over to the rocking chair only to see that Luca hadn’t left any of the sketches that he’d done of him. He only left a sketch of the rocking chair. It was perfect. A rocking chair against the bare walls of Alberto’s room. He’d captured the afternoon light streaming into the room, the way the shadows fell on the chair and gave it depth and made it appear as if it was something more than an inanimate object. There was something sad and solitary about the sketch and Alberto wondered if that was the way Luca saw the world or if it was the way Luca saw his world.
Alberto stared at the sketch for a long time. It scared him because there was something true about it.
Alberto wondered where Luca had learned to draw, he was suddenly jealous of him. He was smart, he got to do things like take astronomy in a big city like Genova, he could draw, he could talk to people, and he liked himself. Alberto wondered how that felt, to really like yourself. He hadn’t really liked any parts of himself until he met Luca. And still, now, he only liked himself when Luca was around.
Alberto looked closer at the drawing and noticed a note at the bottom.
Alberto,
I hope you like the sketch of your chair. I miss swimming with you. Giulia can’t keep up.
Luca
-----
After dinner, Alberto picked up the phone and called Luca. He now had a home phone since his parents moved to a house in Portorosso.
“Why did you leave?”
“You needed to rest.”
“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
A stretch of silence passed.
“I liked the sketch,” Alberto said.
“Why?”
“Because it looks just like my chair.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“It holds something,” Alberto added.
“What?”
“Emotion.”
“Tell me,” Luca said.
“It’s sad. It’s sad and it’s lonely.”
“Like you,” Luca said.
Alberto hated that Luca saw who he was. “I’m not sad all the time,” he retorted.
“I know,” Luca said.
“Will you show me the others?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason you can’t tell me about your dreams.”