One Step to You

by Federico Moccia

  “Strange. I just talked to your mother on the telephone a few minutes ago, and she didn’t know anything about your absence. Much less did she have any idea that she’d signed a note. She’s on her way over now, and she didn’t seem very happy.

  “You’re done at this school, Gervasi. You’re going to be suspended. A forged signature, if reported to the proper authorities, as I intend to do, amounts to an automatic suspension. Too bad, Gervasi. You could have earned an excellent grade on your final exam. That’ll have to be for next year. Here you are.”

  Babi took back her notebook. Now it seemed incredibly light. Suddenly everything seemed different to her, her movements, her footsteps. It was as if she were floating in midair. As she went back to her desk, she saw the glances of her classmates, heard their strange silence. She felt something like joy, an absurd taste of happiness. Then, when she got to her desk, she slowly sat down.

  “This time, Gervasi, it was you who made the mistake!”

  She didn’t really understand what happened next. She found herself in a room with wooden benches. Her mother was there, screaming at her. Then Signora Giacci arrived with the principal. They made Babi leave the room. They went on discussing the matter while she waited in the hallway. A nun went by in the distance. They exchanged a glance, without a smile or a hello. Later, her mother emerged. She dragged Babi by the arm. She was very angry.

  “Mamma, am I going to be expelled?”

  “No, tomorrow morning you’ll go back to school. Maybe there’s a solution, but first I need to hear what your father has to say about this and whether he’s in agreement.”

  As she went down the stairs, Babi wondered what that solution could be, if her mother seemed to think that she needed her father to agree to the decision. Later, after dinner, she finally found out. It was just a matter of money. They were going to have to pay. The great thing about private schools is that everything can be settled easily. The only real question is just how easily, that is, for how much.

  Daniela entered her sister’s bedroom with the cordless phone in her hand. “Here, it’s for you.”

  Babi, worn out by the tide of events, had fallen asleep. She ran a hand over her face, brushing her hair back and cradling the white telephone against her cheek. “Hello.”

  “Ciao. Will you come with me?” It was Step.

  Babi sat up in bed. Now she was wide awake. “I’d be glad to, but I’m not allowed.”

  “Come on, let’s go to Parnaso, or else to the Pantheon. I’ll treat you to a coffee granita with whipped cream at the Tazza d’Oro. Have you ever tried it? It’s magical.”

  “I’m grounded.”

  “Again? But weren’t you ungrounded?”

  “Yes, but today my teacher caught me for turning in a counterfeit note from my mother, and all hell broke loose. That woman has it in for me. She filed a report with the principal. She wanted to flunk me, and I’d have to repeat the whole year. But my mother managed to set everything straight.”

  “Your mother is powerful! Scary, no two ways about it but she gets what she wants.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly that simple. She had to pay.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten million lire. To charity…”

  Step whistled. “Fuck! Nice act of kindness…” An embarrassed silence ensued. “Are you still there, Babi?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I thought we might have been cut off.”

  “No, I was just thinking about Signora Giacci, my teacher. I’m afraid that this isn’t going to be the end of it. I caught her out in a mistake in front of everybody, and now she wants to make me pay at all costs!”

  “More than ten million lire?”

  “That’s money my mother paid, obviously. But now she’s going to go after me. What a pain in the ass! Just think, my grades were so good, it would have been a walk in the park.”

  “So, you really can’t come?”

  “No, are you kidding? Just think if my mother phoned, and I wasn’t here. It really would be the end of the world.”

  “Then I’ll swing by your place.”

  Babi looked at her watch. It was almost five o’clock. Raffaella wouldn’t be home for quite a while. “All right, come on over. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  “Not a glass of beer?”

  “At five o’clock?”

  “Nothing better than a beer at five o’clock.” He hung up.

  Babi hopped quickly out of bed and put on her shoes. “Dani, I’m just going downstairs for a second. I’m running by the store. Do you need anything?”

  “No, nothing, thanks. Who’s coming over, Step?”

  “See you soon.” Babi left the door ajar and, without answering her sister’s question, hurried down the stairs. She bought two kinds of beer, a can of Heineken and a Peroni. If it were wine, she would have had a better idea of what to get. But she really knew nothing about beer. She hurried back upstairs and put the beer in the fridge.

  A short time later the doorbell rang. “Yes?”

  “Babi, it’s me.”

  “Second floor.” She pushed the button in the intercom’s receiver twice and went to the door. She couldn’t help but check her appearance in the reflection in the glass of a painting hanging along the way. She looked fine.

  She opened the door and saw Step coming up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He slowed down only at the end so that he could flash the smile that she liked so much.

  “Ciao.” Babi leaned against the door, letting him pass. He walked past her and then, while Babi was shutting the door, Step pulled a box out from under his jacket. “Here, these are English butter biscuits. I bought them near here. They’re fabulous.”

  “Thanks, I’ll eat them right away.”

  Step followed her in. He was slightly worried. He hadn’t bought those biscuits at a shop. He’d pilfered them at home. Then, as he stopped to think it over, he relaxed. After all, he was really doing Paolo a favor. It definitely would do him no harm to go on a bit of a diet.

  Daniela came out of her room especially to see him. “Ciao, Step.”

  “Ciao.” He smiled at her as he shook hands, appearing not to notice that she’d called him by his nickname.

  Babi shot a quick glance at her sister. Daniela, getting the point immediately, pretended she’d only come in to get something and went right back to her bedroom.

  A short while later, the water came to a boil. Babi took out a pink box. Then she used a little spoon to sift tiny tea leaves into the pan. Slowly, a faintly exotic odor wafted through the kitchen.

  Not long after that, they were seated in the living room. She had a cup of piping hot cherry-flavored tea in her hands, and he had both cans of beer in front of him.

  Babi pulled out an album of family photographs from a cabinet in the living room and started leafing through it with him. Maybe it was the Heineken, or it might have been the Peroni, but the fact remained that he was enjoying himself. He listened to her vivid accounts that came with each different photo: a trip somewhere, a special memory, a party.

  He didn’t fall asleep this time. Slowly, progressively, he watched her grow up as he leafed through those plastic-covered pages. He watched as her first teeth came in, as she blew out a single birthday candle, learned to ride a bike, and then there she was, just a little older, on rides at the amusement park with her little sister. On a sleigh with Santa Claus, at the zoo holding a lion cub in her arms.

  Slowly, he watched her face thin out, her hair darken, her small breasts grow, and then, suddenly, after he turned the next page, she was a woman. She was no longer just a skinny little boy-child with a sulk and a swimsuit, her hands on her hips. Instead, a small bikini covered the bronzed body of an attractive young woman with smooth legs, slender now and longer. Sitting on a pedal boat, she smiled through her long, sun-bleached hair. Her shoulders showed through, golden beneath her locks, bleached almost salt white by the sea. All around her were out-of-focus beachgoers in the backgr
ound, unaware that they were being recorded for posterity.

  With every page that they turned, she seemed to resemble more and more closely the young woman that now sat beside him. Step, his curiosity aroused by the stories recounted by their subject, followed those photos, sipping his second beer, every so often asking a question or two.

  Then, all at once, knowing what was coming, Babi tried to skip a page.

  Step, amused by those countless younger versions of Babi, was faster than her.

  “Hey, no, I want to see.”

  They play-wrestled for the album, a struggle that quickly turned into a loving hug that made them feel closer. After finally winning control of the album, he burst out laughing. Making a funny face with her eyes crossed, Babi was smiling broadly in the middle of the page. Babi had never liked that photo.

  “Strange, though, of all of them, it’s the one that looks most like you,” Step said.

  Pretending to be offended, she punched him in the chest. Then she put the album away, picked up her mug and the two empty beer cans, and went into the kitchen.

  Alone now, Step roamed around the living room. He stopped in front of canvases by artists he’d never heard of. A silver Russian icon enjoyed pride of place on a low side table, painted with dark enamel. Near two sofas upholstered in a hand-painted fabric, there was a broad table with short legs. On top of that table were small silver boxes and ashtrays, scattered in no particular order. They would have made Step’s friends very happy.

  From the kitchen came the sound of running water. Babi was washing her mug and throwing the two empty cans of beer into the pail under the sink. She buried those empty beer cans under an empty milk carton and a crumpled Scottex paper towel. There couldn’t be any traces of Step’s presence in that apartment.

  When she went back to the living room, Step really had disappeared. She walked down the hallway. “Step?” No answer. She walked toward her bedroom. “Step?”

  Then she saw him. He was standing next to her desk, leafing through her notebook.

  “It isn’t very good manners to read other people’s things without their permission.” Babi tore the notebook out of his hands.

  He let her take it. By now, he’d read all he was interested in. He had memorized it. “Why, is there anything written in there that might make me mad?”

  “These are my things. It’s none of your business.”

  Step laughed and walked over to Babi, gave her a kiss, and dragged her onto the bed with him. Then he started to lift her T-shirt.

  “Come on, no, stop it. If my folks get here and catch us, they’ll get mad at me. But if they catch us doing this in my bedroom, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “You’re right.” Step picked her up and lifted her easily into the air, accustomed as he was to lifting dumbbells much heavier than that soft, supple body. “Let’s go into this other room, which strikes me as nicer.” Without giving her time to reply, he darted into her parents’ bedroom, pulling her after him and shutting the door. Then he laid her down on the bed and, kissing her in the dim light of the bedroom, stretched out beside her.

  “You’re crazy, you know that, right?” she whispered in his ear.

  He didn’t answer. A small shaft of light from the setting sun filtered in through the lowered wooden shutter and illuminated his mouth. She saw those perfect white teeth smile at her and open before settling into a leisurely kiss.

  Then, without really knowing how, she found herself in his arms without a top. She could feel his skin brush against hers, his hands gently take possession of her breasts. Babi’s eyes were shut, her soft lips were opening and closing at a constant rhythm. Suddenly she felt more relaxed, freer. As if she could finally breathe.

  Step’s hand silently wrapped around her belt, and he eased it through her belt loops. In the darkened bedroom, Babi heard the slithering of the leather, the sound of the metal buckle abandoning its usual groove.

  She was extremely aware of everything now, even as she continued to kiss him. That room seemed suspended in midair. There was only the slow clicking of a distant alarm clock, their respiration panting with love and lust.

  Then a tiny tug at her waist. The belt tightened and the prong slipped out of the third hole, with its dark edges, the one that was deformed and worn, the most heavily used one. And in a flash, her Levi’s opened up. Silvery buttons that had once been imprisoned were freed at the magical touch of his thumb and forefinger. One after another, lower and lower, dangerously so.

  She held her breath, and something suddenly happened in those enchanted kisses. A tiny shift, almost too small to detect. That gentle magic seemed to vanish. Even if they continued kissing, it was as if there was a silent expectation between the two of them, as if both were waiting, breathless. Step was trying to understand something, a hint, a sign of her desire. But Babi was immobile, revealing nothing. And in fact, she hadn’t yet made a decision. No one in her life had ever gotten this far. She could feel her jeans undone and his hand, right there, at the edge of her leg.

  She continued kissing him without wanting to think about it, without really knowing what to do. At that very moment, Step’s hand decided to run the risk. It moved slowly, delicately, but she could feel it all the same. She half shut her eyes in something like a sigh. He brushed his hands over the edge of the now-open jeans. She felt his fingers on her flesh, above the pink hem of her panties. And at that thought, a shiver of chill and embarrassment ran down her spine.

  Then she felt that elastic band pull slightly away from her flesh and, immediately after that, slip out of his grasp and snap back into place. A second attempt, more determined and resolute this time. Step’s hand under her jeans took possession of her hip and then, brazen and masterful, slipped under the elastic. Then it slid farther in, toward the center, caressing her belly, lower and lower and lower still, coming into contact with the curly edges of unexplored boundaries.

  But then something happened. Babi blocked his hand.

  Step looked at her in the dim half-light. “What’s wrong?”

  “Shh.”

  Babi rose up, resting on her side, and froze in place, ears pricked for a sound from outside that room, outside the shutters, down in the courtyard…a sudden sound, a revving engine that she knew very well. She heard the car put into reverse, that tense driving style. All doubts were banished.

  “My mother! Hurry up, we need to get you out of here.” In a moment they were more or less presentable. Babi pulled the bedcovers up. Step finished tucking his shirt back into his trousers. Someone knocked at the bedroom door. For a second, they froze.

  But it was Daniela. “Babi, Mamma’s home.” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before the door swung open.

  “Thanks, Dani. I know.”

  Babi left the room, dragging Step behind her. He put up a small show of resistance. “No, I want to talk to her. I want to clear up this situation once and for all!” Once again he had that mocking smile on his face.

  “Quit kidding around. What are you, an idiot? You can’t imagine what’ll happen if my mother catches you.” They went into the living room. “Hurry, leave this way so you don’t run into her.”

  Babi undid the lock of the main door, and she stepped out onto the landing. The elevator ran directly down to the courtyard. She summoned it while they exchanged a hasty kiss.

  “I want an appointment with Raffaella.”

  She shoved him into the elevator. “Disappear!”

  Step pushed the button marked G and, with a smile on his face, obeyed Babi’s advice. At that very moment, the other door swung open. In came Raffaella. She laid bags and packages on the kitchen table. Then she had a suspicion as if perhaps she heard the click of the other door. “Babi, is that you?” She went straight to the living room.

  Babi had turned on the television. “Yes, Mamma. I’m watching TV.” But a faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

  That was all Raffaella needed. She hurried into the other bedroom and l
eaned out the window that overlooked the courtyard. There was the noise of an engine going away, leaves of ivy in a corner that were still rustling. Too late.

  She shut the window and ran into Daniela in the hallway. “Did anyone come to the house?”

  “I don’t know, Mamma. I’ve been in my room studying the whole time.”

  Raffaella decided to let it slide. It was pointless to insist with Daniela.

  She went into Babi’s bedroom and looked around. Everything seemed fine. There was nothing strange or out of place. Even the bedcovers were perfectly tucked. But the bed could easily have been tidied and remade. And so, with no one there to see her do it, she laid her hand atop the covers. They were cool. No one had been lying on them.

  She heaved a sigh of relief and went into her bedroom. She took off her skirt suit and hung it neatly on a hanger. Then she got out an angora sweater and a soft skirt. She sat down on the bed and put them on. Blithely unaware, relaxed, unable to even imagine that right there, inches away, her daughter had been lying, just minutes before on that blanket still warm with young and innocent excitement. With her arms around that boy that Raffaella couldn’t stand.

  Later, Claudio came home. He had a long discussion with Babi on the subject of the forged excuse, the ten million lire he’d had to lay out, and her behavior in the past several days. Then he sat down in front of the television set, his mind finally at ease, waiting for dinner to be ready. But just as he got comfortable, Raffaella called his name from the kitchen.

  Claudio immediately went to answer his wife’s summons. “Now what?”

  “Look at this…” Raffaella pointed at the kitchen sink.

  There stood the two empty beer cans that Step had drank.

  “Well, it’s beer, so what?”

  “It was hidden in the trash can, under a handful of paper towels.”

  “Big deal, someone drank a few beers. What’s so bad about that?” Without really knowing why, he felt as if he was in a television commercial.