I Love You, Salvatore

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I Love You, Salvatore Page 3

by Marita A. Hansen


  “Rosa,” the teacher snapped behind me. “Apologize to Selena now or I’ll send you to the headmaster’s office.”

  I glanced back at him. Mr. Mancini looked just as surprised as everyone else, probably because I’d never caused trouble before. I went to do as he asked, but Salvatore drew my attention to him instead. He was grinning, his baby blues so happy. I smiled at him, forgetting everyone else in that moment.

  “Rosa, last warning: apologize now,” the teacher said.

  I refocused on Selena. “I’m sorry for saying you have a fat culo.” I smiled at her, not apologizing for the puttana part.

  “Bene,” the teacher said, “now find another seat.”

  Ignoring Selena’s complaint that I didn’t apologize properly, I headed for the back of the class, my smile now painted on my face. Kids whispered around me, but I didn’t care. Over the next forty or so minutes, all I could do was stare at Salvatore, who was constantly looking over his shoulder at me, smiling like he’d won the lottery.

  At the end of class, we met up in the hallway. He grabbed my hand and practically dragged me down it, shoving students out of his way. He veered left and pushed into the boys’ restroom. Horrified, I tried to pull free, not wanting to go in there, but he just gripped onto me tighter, not allowing me to escape.

  As we came to a stop inside the restroom, my eyes went to two boys, who were standing in front of urinals. They had their cocks out and were pissing a few meters away from me.

  “Out!” Salvatore snapped.

  They looked over their shoulders, surprise coloring their expressions. Then without complaint, they quickly zipped up their pants and went for the door, disappearing out it. I went to follow, embarrassed I’d seen their cocks, but Salvatore yanked me to him.

  “I waited three years to do this,” he said.

  Letting go of my hand, he grabbed my face. I stared up at him in shock as he lowered his head, placing his lips against mine. Everything in my body screamed with excitement, yet I couldn’t move, the shock turning me into a statue. I’d dreamt of him kissing me for so long and ... and ... all thought left my mind as his soft lips moved against mine. It was everything I’d dreamed of: the touch of his hands, the feel of his lips, my heart pounding out of my chest—I was in seventh heaven.

  The door opened, stealing his lips away from mine. My head snapped to my right, angry at the intruder. The skinny nerdish boy gaped at us, looking unsure of what to do: whether to go to the toilet or leave.

  “Get out!” I yelled, choosing for him.

  The boy remained stock still.

  “You heard the lady,” Salvatore said. “Out!”

  The boy bolted, the swinging door banging in his wake.

  Salvatore refocused on me. “I’m taking it you liked my kiss,” he said, brushing my hair back.

  I nodded.

  He grinned. “Can I kiss you some more?”

  I nodded again, staring up at him in rapture. He bent down and kissed me harder this time, pushing his tongue inside my mouth. I’d never been kissed before and never wanted to be kissed by anyone other than Salvatore, because without a doubt…

  I was hopelessly in love with him.

  I thought our kiss sealed our relationship

  Salvatore wanted me

  I wanted him

  End of story

  I thought…

  1995

  Salvatore and I had been together as a couple for almost a year. While I’d kept our relationship a secret from my mother, he’d told his parents. Although they weren’t happy, they had accepted it—to a point. As long as he didn’t bring me home, he could see me whenever he wanted. His parents didn’t approve of our relationship since I wasn’t mafia, but decided to give him some freedom as long as his bodyguards chaperoned us. I was just grateful I could see him, and even better, the soldiers only followed us outside of school. Salvatore had said his security had been dialed down due to the most powerful mafia families having come to an agreement. I didn’t ask what the agreement was, nor did he elaborate. Neither of us liked talking about what his family did, preferring instead to enjoy each other’s company.

  And we did enjoy each other, especially at lunchtime, when we would often go behind the school gymnasium to make out instead of going home to eat. His fifteen-year-old brother would guard the entrance, so no one bothered us. Of course, we had to return the favor for Brando. Salvatore had a lot of brothers as well as two sisters. There were nine siblings in total—or maybe it was ten, because I think he had another one who didn’t live with him. Anyway, Brando was the next oldest brother. But unlike Salvatore and the others, Brando looked quite different. He had black instead of brown hair, a much darker olive skin, golden eyes, and was incredibly beautiful, which he used to his full advantage. He would often bring different girls to the make-out spot. Though, I found out he did a lot more than make out with them after I heard a girl complain loudly.

  I stopped talking to Salvatore and peered around the gymnasium. Down the other end of the long strip of grass, in between the gymnasium and the fence, Brando was yelling at a dark-haired girl. He was telling her to get lost if she wasn’t interested in sex. The girl looked stricken. From memory, I’d heard she was Middle Eastern, which made sense since Brando had a taste for exotic-looking girls.

  “Please, Brando, don’t do this,” she said. “I love you.”

  “Prove it.”

  Without another word, she pushed her panties down and bent over, presenting her ass to him. I quickly looked away as he unzipped his fly, absolutely horrified at the scene.

  “What’s wrong?” Salvatore asked.

  “Brando just bullied a girl into sex.”

  Salvatore glanced around the corner. “It doesn’t look like he’s forcing her.”

  “He told her to go away if she wasn’t interested in sex. That’s bullying.”

  “She could’ve left.”

  “She told him she loved him and he said prove it. You don’t need to have sex to prove you love someone.” Please say you love me.

  “I know.”

  I frowned, wondering whether he would ever say it. I hadn’t said it either, but it was more to do with being worried he wouldn’t say it back, because I did love him, had for a long time.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to cover for Brando anymore,” I said, not wanting to admit to my real thoughts.

  “If we don’t help him he won’t return the favor, which means we won’t get alone time.”

  “What about your other siblings? They can cover for us instead.”

  “All but Luciano and Brando are busy, and I’d never ask Luciano again after I caught him watching us. And no matter what a stronzo Brando is, he doesn’t force the girls. They can always walk away.”

  Footsteps came from around the corner. A second later, the girl headed past us, telling Brando she’d see him tomorrow.

  Not answering her, Brando stopped next to Salvatore and leaned against the wall. “Your turn,” he said, winking at Salvatore.

  Salvatore shook his head at him. “You shouldn’t treat girls so badly. You should be nicer to them.”

  Brando smirked. “I’m very nice to them, when they’re at the end of my cock.”

  “Don’t speak like that in front of Rosa.” Salvatore grabbed my arm and steered me around the corner.

  “Hey, do you need a condom?” Brando yelled out. “Oops, I forgot, Rosa doesn’t give you any pussy.”

  Salvatore let go of my arm and stormed back to Brando.

  I ran after him, yelling, “Don’t, Salvatore!”

  Salvatore placed a hand against the wall next to Brando’s head and glared down at him. “Don’t you ever,” he hit the wall, “disrespect Rosa again, or the next time I’ll be hitting your face.”

  “I wasn’t disrespecting her,” Brando said, “just stating a fact.”

  “No, the fact is you disrespect females all the time. They’re not here just for your cock.”


  Brando sneered. “The ones I choose are.”

  Salvatore retracted his arm, his expression disgusted. “How would you like being treated as though you’re only good for sex?”

  Brando laughed. “Are you seriously asking me that? I’d love it! Give me a dozen condoms and line the girls up.” He started thrusting his crotch out.

  Salvatore shook his head. “You’re a lost cause.” He turned back to me, leading me behind the gymnasium. As we sat down, he started reassuring me that he would never try to manipulate me like Brando had done to the girl. Although I was still upset, Salvatore’s words calmed me down, making me appreciate him even more. I’d found a polished gem amongst a sea of roughly-hewn stones, a gentleman who never pressured or cheated on me.

  ***

  A week later, my eyes told me another story. Salvatore was standing in front of Selena Orsini, with his hand on her shoulder and his head lowered down to hers. I stopped in the middle of the hallway, frozen in place at the sight. Although they were just talking, they were far too close. Salvatore’s face was right in front of Selena’s, looking as though he was ready to kiss her. I felt like bursting into tears and running out of the school, but I continued to watch. I wondered whether he had finally given up on waiting, because without a doubt, I knew Selena would have sex with him in a second. The girl was always flirting with him; he just didn’t return it. Or was it all a lie? He’d told me I wasn’t allowed to go to his house because of his parents, when all along it could’ve been because he was taking Selena there … into his room.

  The thought kicked me into motion. I stormed over to him, snapping, “Salvatore!”

  He removed his hand from Selena’s shoulder and turned to me. I went to snap at him again, but stopped at the sight of Selena. She was crying; her green eyes filled with anguish. She took off, running down the hallway, disappearing into the girls’ restroom.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

  “Her father’s going to jail for a long time,” Salvatore said, his expression sad.

  My mind went to the news I’d seen on TV last night. Selena’s father was on trial for ordering the murders of a prominent judge and a lawyer.

  “So he should,” I said, “he murdered two people.”

  Salvatore’s sad expression turned to annoyance. “No, he didn’t.”

  “He may not have fired the shots, but he ordered the hits. My mother said—”

  “Your mother knows nothing!” he snapped.

  I went still, shocked by his venom.

  Salvatore shook his head at me, then turned and started heading down the hallway.

  I ran after him. “Salvatore! Why are you mad? The man’s a murderer.”

  He spun around, his face angry. “He didn’t do it, that’s why. Another famiglia was responsible.”

  “Then why aren’t they going to jail?”

  “Because they’re more powerful than Selena’s famiglia, so they’re making him take the fall.”

  “Why would he agree to that?”

  “So they don’t kill his famiglia.”

  “Can’t he tell the police—”

  “If he says one word, Selena won’t be coming to school tomorrow, because she’ll be dead. You don’t understand my world, Rosa, so please don’t assume things are so easy to fix.”

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He breathed out. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.” He smiled at me, although it appeared forced. “We should talk about something else. What about our anniversary on Friday?”

  I perked up. “You remembered.”

  He smiled back, this one genuine. “I wouldn’t have forgotten for the world. I’ve planned a surprise for you.”

  “What?” I asked excitedly.

  He smiled wider. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, silly.” He took hold of my hand. “Anyway, we should get to class.”

  We headed into the classroom, my thoughts now on the surprise, Selena all but forgotten.

  ***

  On our anniversary he took me to a fancy restaurant. The place wasn’t big, but it had a line a mile long, which we skipped.

  The doorman stepped aside, giving Salvatore a polite nod. “It’s good to see you, Signor Santini,” he said, as though Salvatore was an adult, not a boy of seventeen.

  But that was probably because he looked like an adult. Not only was he taller than everyone in sight, he walked with a quiet confidence. The two bodyguards following us also added to his importance, the men formidable in their black suits and sunglasses.

  We entered the restaurant and followed our host to our table. It was right next to a wall to ceiling window, which overlooked the Mediterranean Sea. The water stretched further than the eye could see, its dark surface looking like glass under the half moon.

  Salvatore stepped in front of our host and pulled out my chair before the man could get a hand to it. Feeling special, I sat down, smoothing a hand over my green satin dress. I was pleased he’d told me to wear my best outfit, especially since I would’ve just turned up in an ordinary blouse and skirt without realizing where we were going.

  Salvatore lowered himself into the chair across from me. “You like the restaurant?” he asked, looking expectantly at me.

  I glanced around the room. Men were dressed in their finest, while the women wore expensive jewelry and evening gowns fit for royalty. It was a world apart from what I was used to, pizzerias my ideal night out. Regardless, I still loved it; the date turning into a fairytale.

  “I love it,” I finally said.

  He smiled wide, appearing happy with my answer. He went to say something, but stopped as a waiter approached our table, asking if we would like our dinner to be served now. Salvatore nodded, the waiter leaving a second later.

  “How come we didn’t get a menu?” I asked.

  “Because I ordered before we came,” Salvatore replied.

  “But, you might not know what I want.”

  “I know what you like.” He smiled. “I have known you for a while.”

  “Let’s see if you get it right, then.”

  “Oh, I’m always right.”

  “Ha! You’re very sure of yourself tonight. By the way, you look really hot in that suit.” His smile grew wider, making me laugh. “Don’t ruin it by looking goofy.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I don’t have a goofy smile.”

  “No, you have a charming one.” I glanced to my right as the waiter reappeared, surprised by how quick he was.

  “I ordered the food to be prepared for a certain time,” Salvatore said.

  I looked back at him. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  “Most definitely.”

  The waiter started laying the food on the table. My gaze dropped to the dish he put in front of me. It looked like Pasta alla Norma—one of my favorite meals. A pink lemonade was placed next to the plate, finishing everything off perfectly. I picked up my fork and speared some eggplant and pasta, groaning at the divine taste.

  “Looks like I chose right,” Salvatore said.

  “You certainly did.” Without saying another word, I started stuffing my mouth with it, mumbling, “Dio, this is delicious.”

  “Very.”

  I looked up at him, finding him staring at me, his meal untouched. “You haven’t even tasted it.”

  “I’d much rather eat your figa.” He flicked his tongue out at me.

  “Salvatore!” I clamped my mouth shut, realizing I’d said his name much too loud. I glanced to my right, spotting a middle-aged couple watching us. I returned my gaze to Salvatore. “Can you not say things like that in public?”

  “What about flicking my tongue out?” He did it again.

  “Stop that,” I growled.

  He laughed, then picked up his fork and speared some pasta. He took a bite, his expression thoughtful. “It’s good, but my cook’s is better.”

  “You have a cook?”

  “Two.”


  “You must be really rich.”

  “You already know that, silly.” He glanced over his shoulder at his bodyguards, who were seated at the next table. “They should’ve been a dead giveaway.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass.”

  He pointed his fork at my mouth. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “I’m subtracting points for you treating me like a child. And what seventeen-year-old takes their girlfriend to a first class restaurant?”

  He frowned. “You said you loved it.”

  “I do, it’s just … a normal teenager would buy me pizza or a burger.”

  “I’m not normal.”

  I smiled. “I can see that, which is why I lo…” I cleared my throat, almost saying love, “…like you so much.”

  He dropped his gaze, looking disappointed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered, stabbing some pasta with his fork.

  I continued to watch him, wondering whether he’d expected me to say I loved him. I wanted to, but fear kept stopping me.

  He started talking about his younger brothers, sounding like he was purposely steering the conversation away from himself. Regardless, I smiled at the mention of the twins. Although I hadn’t met Vinnie and Dominic yet, Salvatore often talked about them, his ten-year-old brothers constantly getting up to mischief.

  “The twins tipped their ant farm into Brando’s bed and covered it with his blankets,” Salvatore laughed. “You should’ve heard the shrieking coming from his room. Brando had taken a servant girl in there and they’d gotten into bed without realizing what the twins had done.” He continued to laugh. “When Brando came out, his face was so red it looked like he was going to explode. We didn’t see the twins for the rest of the day. Whenever they play a major joke on someone, they always take off and hide.”

  “Serves Brando right,” I said, smiling.

  “I agree. I told Brando if he laid a finger on the twins, me and Ricardo would kick the merda out of him.” He stopped talking as the waiter appeared with dessert.

 

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