One Step to You

by Federico Moccia

  Later, at her desk at school, she filled her notebook with question marks, indecisive hearts, simple letters, or else his whole name. Every motorcycle she heard passing in the distance, she wondered if it was him.

  A longer bell rang. That was a relief. Recess.

  Pallina walked up to her. “So, how did it go? You disappeared.”

  “Great, we went to Ansedonia.”

  “All that way?”

  Babi nodded.

  “And did you do it?”

  “Pallina!”

  “Well, excuse me very much but, if you went all the way to Ansedonia, you must have gone down to the beach, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And didn’t you do anything on the beach?”

  “We kissed.”

  “Yahooo!” Pallina threw her arms around Babi.

  “It’s not fair though! Screw you and your whole family, you landed the hottest guy in the whole city.” Then she realized that Babi was a little blue. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, quit lying. Tell me what the problem is. Buck up. You can confide in your wise, old friend Pallina. You did do it, am I right?”

  “Noooo! We kissed, and that’s all, and it was beautiful. But…”

  “But…?”

  “But I don’t know how we left things.”

  Pallina looked at her, perplexed. “Wait, did he try to…” And she poked a finger into her opposite fist, eloquently.

  Babi shook her head with a sigh of annoyance. “No.”

  “Then this is very worrisome.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s interested in you.”

  “You think?”

  “For sure. He almost always screws his girls the first night.”

  “Oh, thanks, so reassuring.”

  “You wanted the truth, didn’t you? Well, so sorry, but you ought to be happy about this. But if that’s what you’re worried about, you only need to wait for the second date, wait and see!”

  Babi gave her a shove. “You’re so stupid…By the way, Pallina, they confiscated your Vespa.”

  “My Vespa?” Pallina’s expression changed. “Who did?”

  “My folks.”

  “That jolly jokester Raffaella. One of these days, I’m going to have to have a talk with her. You know, the other night she put the moves on me.”

  “My mother? What are you talking about?”

  “She did! She kissed me when I was sleeping in your bed, thinking that I was you!”

  “Do you swear?”

  “Yes!”

  “Just think, my father took your key ring, and believed that it was mine.”

  “Didn’t he notice the letter P?”

  “Yes! But I told him that when I was little he always called me Princess Savina.”

  “And he fell for it?”

  “Oh, now that’s what he always calls me.”

  And so they went back to class. One of them tall, willowy, and blond, the other short and dark. Pretty and well prepared the first one, funny and unmotivated the second, but sharing one great thing in common: their friendship.

  Later, Babi was sitting there, dreamily staring at the blackboard without seeing the numbers written on it or hearing the words the teacher said. She was thinking about Step, about what he might be doing right then. She wondered if he was thinking about her.

  She tried to imagine him but she realized she didn’t really know him. Sometimes he was tender and sweet. Then he could suddenly turn savage and violent. She sighed and looked at the blackboard. She knew that the equation on the board would be much easier to solve.

  * * *

  Step had just woken up. He hopped into the shower and let himself be massaged by the strong, determined spray. He placed both hands against the wet wall and let the jets of water drum on his chest.

  As the water slid over his face, he thought back to her blue eyes. They were big, pristine, and profound. He smiled, and even though his own eyes were shut, he saw her perfectly. There she was, innocent and serene, right in front of him, her hair tossing wildly in the wind. He recalled that gaze full of character and determination.

  As he dried off, he found himself thinking about everything they’d said to each other, the things he’d told her. She was the only kind ear he’d talked to, practically a stranger, the silent listener to his past suffering, his self-hatred, his sadness. He wondered if he might be crazy. Too late to worry about that.

  As he ate breakfast, he thought about Babi’s family. Her sister. Her agreeable-looking father. Her mother with her tough, determined personality. With features so similar to Babi, but softened by age. Would Babi someday be just like her? Sometimes, mothers are future projections of the young women we’re dating.

  He smiled as he finished his coffee. Someone rang the doorbell, and Maria answered the door. It was Pollo. He tossed the usual bag onto the side table. Step found himself eating a salmon panino while listening to Pollo’s chatter. An enjoyable routine. He looked at his friend with amusement as Pollo asked him question after question.

  “You need to tell me what you got up to. Did you screw her or didn’t you? I can just guess, with that girl…that personality of hers, and when are you ever going to get her in bed? Never! Also, where the fuck did you two go to? I looked for you everywhere. Oh, you can imagine the state that Madda was in. Just poisonous!”

  Step looked at him differently now. The amused expression had vanished from his face. Maddalena, true enough, he hadn’t thought about her. He hadn’t thought about anything that evening. But, after all, he and Babi had never made any promises. It was just a casual thing. He finished the sandwich, a little more relaxed, even if he knew deep down that it wasn’t really true.

  “Here.” Pollo reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and tossed it at him. “This is Babi’s phone number.” Step caught it in midair.

  “I asked Pallina to give it to me. I knew you’d be asking me for it today…”

  Step put it in his pocket and then went into his room. Pollo followed him. “Well, come on, Step, cazzo, are you going to tell me anything or not? Did you do it with her?”

  Step turned to look at him with a smile on his face. “Pollo, why do you always ask me these questions? You know that I’m a gentleman, don’t you?”

  Pollo threw himself onto the bed, bent over with laughter. “A gentleman…you? Oh God. I’m laughing so hard it hurts! The things you say. Fucking hell…a gentleman.”

  Step looked at him, shaking his head, and then started getting dressed. As he was putting his jeans on, Step started laughing too. All the times he’d been less than a gentleman! For a minute, he wished he had some better story to tell his friend about last night.

  Chapter 19

  Out front of Falconieri High School, there weren’t any boys selling books. It was too affluent a school for even the poorest of its female students to consider the thought of buying a used textbook.

  Babi started down the stairs, looking around hopefully. Groups of boys at the bottom of the steps were waiting, looking up for new prey or old conquests. But none of them were the right boy.

  Babi descended the last few steps. The roar of a motorcycle going by fast made her look up, startled. Her heart beat faster. But it was no good. A red gas tank went zipping past, weaving through the line of cars. A young couple, the girl’s arms wrapped around him, leaned left in unison. For a second, Babi envied them.

  Then she got in the car. Her mother was there, still angry from the day before. “Ciao, Mamma.”

  “Ciao” was Raffaella’s terse reply. Babi didn’t receive any slaps in the face that day because there was no reason for one. But she almost would have preferred one to the cold indifference.

  * * *

  Step and Pollo were leaning against the fence. They were watching from the field side as their soccer team trained. Nearby Schello, Hook, and a few other friends cheered, all of them enthusiastic for the same team colors. Frenzi
ed fans, ready to cause trouble for the hell of it. Along the drive of the stadium in Tor di Quinto, a number of more moderate fans were watching the friendly match from the comfort of their automobiles.

  Along the edges of the field, a roar rang out from the bystanders. One of the new team hires, a young Slav with a hard-to-pronounce surname, had just made a great goal. Young men with light blue and white headbands and small silk scarves in the same colors tied around their necks hugged and rejoiced. They sang the team anthem, gripping the fence, rocking back and forth. They called out the player’s name, getting the pronunciation completely wrong.

  Step was holding on to the fence with both hands. Without letting anyone else see what he was doing, he pulled back the left sleeve of his jacket, sneaking a look at his watch. One thirty. Babi must have just gotten out of school. He imagined her in her mother’s car, on Corso Francia, on her way home.

  Better than a goal by Stankovic. He reckoned the timing. Maybe if he left now, he could run into her.

  He noticed that Pollo was staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Pollo threw both arms wide. “Why?”

  “Then what the fuck are you looking at?”

  “Why, can’t I look?”

  “Just watch the game, no? I brought you all this way and what are you doing?”

  Step turned to look at the field. Some of the players wore training vests over their team jerseys and were passing the ball quickly from one to the other while a miserable loser in the middle was trying to take it away from them.

  Step turned to look at Pollo again. He was staring at him. “Still! So you really don’t want to listen to me!” Step lunged at him. He grabbed his head with both hands and, laughing, slammed it against the hurricane fence. “That’s what you’re supposed to look at.” He pushed Pollo’s head a few times. “There, there!”

  “Ouch.” Pollo bounced against the fence with his nose stuck in one of the holes and his mouth crammed into the hole next to it. He pushed back with both hands, trying to free himself from Step’s grip.

  Schello, Hook, and the others jumped onto the two of them, just for the fun of a little mayhem. A general brawl broke out. Other superfans pushed in against the gate among them, making noise. One guy with a rolled-up newspaper in hand and a whistle in his mouth pretended to be a cop, dealing out billy-club blows right and left.

  After a while, the group spread, with fans running in all directions, laughing. Step climbed onto his motorcycle. Pollo jumped on behind him and they skidded away, wheels kicking up showers of gravel. Step wondered whether Pollo had guessed at what he’d been thinking about earlier.

  “Hey, Step, what a pity…”

  “What is?”

  “It’s too late now. Otherwise we could have gone by and picked Babi up at school.”

  Step said nothing. He could sense Pollo smiling, behind him. Even his thoughts no longer had any secrets from him. Or maybe it had been dumb luck?

  Pollo drove a fist into his ribs. “And don’t get smart with me, understood?”

  Step leaned forward, in pain. No, it hadn’t been dumb luck, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, Pollo could also deliver incredibly painful punches.

  The afternoon passed slowly that day for both of them, though neither knew that was true of the other.

  * * *

  Step was all alone, driving around the city on his motorcycle, when it started to drizzle. He looked up. Menacing dark clouds sailed quickly overhead, swirling. As a distant clap of thunder sounded, he accelerated. He didn’t want to get soaked.

  The air around him suddenly turned chilly. Another thunderclap. Bigger drops, one after another, constant, thicker and faster. Now it was really coming down, so he sped up on the wet road.

  He splashed through a puddle. A few drops of water hit the hot engine, and steam swirled around his legs. His Tobacco Motorwear trousers darkened, spattered by the rain. His jacket was getting wet. He could feel the rain pour down his neck.

  Via Bevagna. Step decided to pull over. He braked to a halt in front of the market, which was closed now. He rode up onto the sidewalk and stopped in front of the newsstand. Plenty of water was already rushing past in the gutter. He looked at his jeans. They were drenched below the knee. A car went past fast, leaving behind it wet patches and the reflection of its headlights.

  The rain was showing no signs of stopping. Step lit a cigarette and, before he knew it, found himself in the nearby phone booth. He had a crumpled sheet of paper in his hand.

  Moments after that, the phone rang at Babi’s place. Daniela immediately punched the button on the little wireless handset that she kept next to her on the sofa cushion. “Hello?” She stared at Babi, stunned. She couldn’t believe her ears.

  “Oh, yes, I’ll put her on.” Babi turned unruffled to look at her sister. “Babi, it’s for you.” It only took that instant, a quick glance, the look on her face to make it all clear. It was him.

  Daniela handed Babi the telephone, doing her best to maintain her self-control in front of her parents, who were watching TV with them on the sofa. Babi took the phone delicately, as if fearful to touch it, as if one vibration too many might cut off the call, making it disappear forever. She slowly lifted it to her lips, emotionally stirred even by the utterance of that simple “Yes?”

  “Ciao, how are you?” Step’s warm voice directly reached her heart. Babi looked around, appalled, worried that someone else might have noticed what she was feeling, her heart racing at three thousand kilometers an hour, the happiness that she was desperately trying to conceal.

  “Fine, you?”

  “Fine. Can you talk?”

  “Hold on a second. I can’t hear myself think in here.” She got up off the sofa, carrying the phone with her, her dressing gown fluttering behind her. It’s hard to say why, but with certain telephones, you can never hear a thing when you’re around your parents.

  Her mother watched her leave the living room and then turned suspiciously toward Daniela. “Who was that?”

  Daniela was fast on her feet. “Oh, Chicco Brandelli, one of her admirers.”

  Raffaella stared at her for a second. Then she relaxed. She turned back to the movie. Daniela, too, turned to the television with a faint sigh. It was over. If her mother had stared at her just a little longer, she would have collapsed. It was difficult to meet that gaze. It always seemed as if her mother knew everything. She paid herself a silent compliment for the idea of Brandelli. At last, that knucklehead had served some purpose.

  Then Daniela grew emotional as she thought about her sister. Step had called her, not to be believed. She wondered what kind of a look Giulia would have on her face when she told her all about it tomorrow morning. Happy now, Daniela got comfortable on the sofa. No doubt, Giulia would eat her heart out.

  The lights were off in Babi’s bedroom. She was leaning against a pane of glass, streaked with raindrops, the telephone in her hand. “Hello, Step, is that you?”

  “Who else do you think it could be?”

  Babi laughed. “Where are you?”

  “In the rain. In a phone booth. Should I come over to your place?”

  “I wish. My folks are home.”

  “Then why don’t you come meet me?”

  “I can’t. I’m grounded. They caught me when I came home yesterday. They were at the window, waiting for me.”

  Step smiled and tossed away his cigarette. “So it’s actually true! There are girls in the world who are still being grounded…”

  “Yep, and now you’re dating one.”

  Babi shut her eyes in sheer terror, waiting to hear what would happen when the bomb she’d thrown exploded, but there was no taking it back now. However, there was no explosion so, slowly, she opened her eyes. Outside the glass, under a streetlight, the rain was more visible. It was starting to slow. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I was just trying to figure out what it feels like to have been outmaneuvered by a very clever girl.”

&nb
sp; Babi bit her lip as she walked nervously and happily around her room. So it was true. “If I was such a clever girl, I’d have picked someone else to outmaneuver.”

  Step laughed. “All right, truce. Let’s see if we can keep it up for at least a day. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “School, then I’ll study, and the whole time I’ll be grounded.”

  “Well, I could come and pay you a visit.”

  “I’d say that’s not one of the best ideas…”

  “I could dress up nice.”

  Babi laughed. “Not because of that. It’s a slightly more general set of considerations. What time are you getting up in the morning tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know, ten, eleven. Whenever Pollo comes by to wake me up.”

  Babi shook her head. “But what if he doesn’t come?”

  “Then I might sleep until noon.”

  “Can you come get me at school?”

  “At one o’clock? Yes, I think I could do that.”

  “I meant at the start of the day.”

  Silence. “What time would that be?”

  “Ten past eight.”

  “Why do people start school at dawn? And then what would we do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We could run away…” Babi heard those words of hers, uttered in a tone of amusement. She practically couldn’t believe her ears. She must have lost her mind. Still, she liked the idea of running away with him.

  “All right, let’s go crazy. At eight on the dot in front of your school. I just hope I can wake up.”

  “It won’t be easy, will it?”

  “Not exactly.”

  She laughed. Then remained silent for a while. Uncertain what to say next, how to end the call. “Well, then, ciao.”

  Step looked out to see that it had stopped raining, and the clouds were scudding along fast. He felt happy. He looked at the receiver. Right now she was at the other end of the line. “Ciao, Babi.”

  Step hung up. A few stars had appeared, timid and wet, up in the sky. Tomorrow it was going to be a beautiful day because he was going to spend the morning with her. He climbed onto his motorcycle.