Rewind and Play

1996

---

Alice

Every morning, we had been hoping that would be the day the bus would just give up altogether. No luck so far, despite the way our angry driver had been treating the poor vehicle.

“And if it breaks down, what will we do? Will we be able to go back home? Will we be late?” I asked. I could not fathom being late for school, or, even worse, skipping school altogether.

Samuel had shrugged and given me his trademark mocking half-smile: “We will see. First, let’s hope it happens.”

The name of the boy I fancied was Nico, by the way; he was three years my senior and a student in the Liceo Scientifico. He was also my neighbour. According to my parents, when he was little, he was a cheeky rascal, but of course I have no recollection of that.

In my humble opinion, he was the cutest: short, slim, a shock of black hair constantly bothering his green eyes and a grin always in place, some semblance of stubble covering his cheek (which made him look very mature). Of course, I had never exchanged more than a couple of mumbled greetings with him.

That was going to end today! Today, I would approach him and tell him “Happy birthday.” Because, well, it was his birthday. It was a big, bold move. My hands were sweating just thinking about it. But I could do it. I know it doesn’t look like much but for me, at the time, have the balls to walk up to somebody I barely knew and talk to them, was a big, big thing.

Samuel inquiring about boys just made me, in a way, even more eager to get the ball rolling. I could keep very lengthy conversations with boys, now. Ok, I could do it with Samuel, but that must count for something.

Who knew what would come of it? Surely, he would start noticing me, then. I had been ogling him from the other side of the corridor every intervallo since the start of the year. Clara had been making sure he didn’t catch me looking creepy.

The morning of Nico’s birthday, I got dressed with extra care. I was almost happy with myself by the time I got out of the house.

Problem was, because I took longer than usual to get changed, I was slightly late. When I dashed out of the house, an unexpected downpour caught me by surprise on my way to the bus, and I had no umbrella with me.

By the time Samuel came to sit next to me I was drenched and miserable; my hair was completely plastered to my face, despite the ponytail I had managed to wrangle it into, in an effort to tame the crazy humidity-induced curls.

Samuel arrived not too long after me, not a hair out of place, folding his umbrella neatly.

“Good thing about waking up later than you, I saw it was raining,” he said, the smug prick. My answer was just a glowering growl.  

I had been busy taking out the Walkman, my thoughts getting back to Nico. I would have to scrub up a little and get myself back into looking half decent if I wanted to go and talk to him.

“Alice?”

My gaze came back into focus once again.

Samuel was looking at me, a humorous expression still lingering on his features.

“Mmm?”

“Earth to Ali? Where were you?”

“Oh, eh, nothing, just thinking of something that’s going to happen at school, sorry, let me put the CD on.”

“Is it a boy?”

I looked at Samuel, eyes narrowed. Again with the boys conversation. I should have been more careful the other day, but he got me going and I spilled beans that shouldn’t have been spilled. There was no avoiding the mockery now.

Still, I tried to sound nonchalant: “Why do you ask?”

Samuel’s somewhat small smile widens into a full-blown grin: “Your face went all dreamy…”

“My face didn’t go all dreamy, shut up.”

“Your face definitely went all dreamy.”

With a long suffering sigh, I replied, starting to be properly pissed: “It didn’t! I don’t want to talk about it!”

Samuel said nothing and turned to look away, looking more than a little smug.

I made myself occupy more space on the seat, wiggling my bum and squeezing Samuel further against his armrest. That felt good.

“Yuck, I’m going to smell like wet dog,” I ended up saying, giving my navy-blue jumper a tentative sniff. I wasn’t sure it smelled ok but, hopefully, my hair would dry on the way to school and I could ditch the jacket once in.

Suddenly my already limited personal space got further invaded by Samuel’s face, which came very close to my hair, first, and my jumper, next. Very close to my neck, where I felt a flush spreading.

“What do you think you are doing?” I stammered, paralysed.

“Checking if you do smell like wet dog,” came the answer, matter-of-factly.

I could also smell Samuel’s curly, messy, hair: a fresh, soapy scent. And his clothes: he was wearing a striped black and white jumper, no jacket, and baggy jeans. Under the shampoo smell, there was a woodsy, almost burnt aroma, reminiscent of the smell in a room where a stove, or possibly a chimney, is burning, possibly from his house. His neck was so close to my face that I started feeling slightly dizzy.

Samuel’s nose just brushed against my skin on its way up and away from my body.

My breath did something funny, like it had gotten stuck. I made a good job at dissimulating, clearing my throat and pinching his arm: “What the fuck? You done?”

“Language, Giannelli. And yes, I’m done. You smell all right.”

“Thanks”, I mumbled, passing the earbud on and glowering for the rest of the trip.

Samuel

As soon as Alice said the words “I’m going to smell like wet dog,” I knew I would do something silly. And yet, I also knew no powers on earth could stop me from just leaning in and, very creepily, sniff her hair.

She didn’t smell like wet dog at all. Her black curls smelled like coconut; on my way to and back from her head, my nostrils picked up her scent, the scent that made Alice herself. It was something sweet that promised softness. It made my heart rate speed up and I hoped to fuck I could keep talking to this unique and marvellous creature, despite the fact that she barely even acknowledged my presence. And when she did, it was to scowl at me.

I tried very hard to make it go unnoticed that being so close to her made me short-circuit, when all I want her was to grab her and bring her closer.

Alice

I went to school feeling weird.

Samuel’s casual nearness made me feel tingly all over. When his nose almost touched my neck, it left a small fire behind, just under the skin.

It was the first time a boy made me feel that way.

Don’t get me wrong, I had kissed before, of course, but they had been more perfunctory acts than anything else. Even my first kiss, one Giacomo, a charming guy who I met at Sunday school and who stuck his tongue in my throat on a snowy 1995 end-of-year party, had not been particularly memorable, despite the highly romantic setting. Sure, at the time I dressed it up for Clara’s sake; in reality, I hadn’t fancied Giacomo particularly, so when he asked me if I was interested in going out or something, I had said “no, thanks,” and we happily stayed friends after that.

What happened that morning was different: an instinct possessed me to grab Samuel’s head and push it down on my neck, so that I could feel his mouth on my skin.

Just thinking about it made me blush all the way up the stairs to the third floor of the Leopardi.

“You warm or something?” Asked Clara, who was climbing next to me.

“Ah, yeah, might have put on too many layers,” I mumbled. I didn’t think of Samuel Marchetti that way, so my body acting up was just annoying and puzzling.

“You going to stink for Nico, if you keep going like that,” smirked my so-called friend.

That didn’t help, because the memory of Samuel was immediately summoned and my brain imagined him standing very close, head bent down toward my face.

I had to shake my head to dispel any further upsetting thoughts.

“I don’t smell bad, don’t worry. Also, I brought deodorant, just in case.”

---

The first two hours passed by in a blur. I could barely concentrate, thoughts of Samuel before, and Nico, after, muddling my brain.

The haze did not lift until recess when, suddenly, cold sweat broke all over me once we filed out of the room for recess. We walked in the direction of the small landing where Nico used to hang out with a couple of friends.

Clara, whose merciless gaze had already noticed my frazzled state, only commented: “Ali, take a chill pill. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t feel like it. It’s not like he’s the pope or something.”

Squinting my eyes, feeling like a Sergio Leone hero, I said: “No, I’ll fucking do it.”

“All right. Well, we are just about to pass them, so good timing.”

Damn, our legs were carrying them forward really quick, weren’t they.

Time to rally my quickly fading surge of bravery.

Nico was leaning casually against the wall, a smart smile on his lips, arms crossed, his short and lean frame looking cool in an oversize t-shirt.

He did know me from the village, so it was not unexpected when I said, with tremulous voice: “Hey.” He nodded politely.

Nico did look surprised when, just after passing them, I threw in a “happy birthday,” before starting my descent in what I hoped was a dignified way, not a running retreat.

“Thanks Alice!” He half shouted after me.

I did not turn to see his face, but kept walking down the stairs, very conscious of not wanting to fall over, with a smile on what I am sure was a bright red face, the sweet feeling of success filling me up to the brim.

Samuel

Of course, I had to ask about it.

“So how did it go?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Whatever you didn’t want to smell like wet dog for, this morning. You do smell slightly like sweat now, by the way…”

“Thanks, it’s always a pleasure to talk to you too, Sami.”

I stuck my finger deep in the middle of her ribs, making her jump, then scowl.

“Don’t change the subject. Did it go well? What was it by the way? You have me intrigued.”

Alice’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. Her face was now saying that she deeply regretted me knowing any of this. Unfortunately, she also knew me far too well by now, to even hope I could let it drop.

She sighed, took out her Walkman, offered an earbud.

“PJ Harvey,” she said.

“Fine,” I said.

For a couple of minutes, we listened in silence.

“You are going to laugh.”

“I’m not, Ali. I like to tease you, but we are friends,” I said, because it was true. Despite how my body reacted to her and the way I sometimes wanted to just touch her to feel sure she was really next to me, what I liked the most about Alice was, well, Alice. Being her friend was the best thing that had happened to me.

She looked surprised at the gentleness in my voice. Then she started: “There’s this guy I like in school, not telling you the name because he’s from Castelnuovo.”

“And I am not going to ask.”

“Good. Anyway, it’s his birthday today, and I told him ‘Happy birthday’ during recess.”

I just couldn’t not say it. I wanted to play it cool but, unfortunately for her, my brain-mouth connection worked too fast: “Oh, do you like Nico?” 

She looked at me, horrified, green eyes wides as saucers.

“How do you… You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

Well, that was it, then. I adopted my most smug face: “Think, Giannelli…”

“Ah fuck, you are the same age!”

 “Yeah, we were in scuola media together…”

Her mouth was sort of hanging open a little, face frozen in that scared/embarrassed expression. She was not expecting this conversation going the way it went.

I just didn’t have the heart to tease her, the. We were making progress, and she didn’t seem to like me that way. Not that I knew exactly how I liked her either. I just knew I liked her. I definitely knew she needed a friend, not a creep, right now.

Trying to be cool about it, I asked: “Wanna a hand with him? I must admit, I am a bit surprised that you like him, I didn’t think you were into small elfish guys, but whatever rocks your boat…”

Her eyes immediately narrowed.

“What do you mean ‘a hand’?”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that. My birthday is at the start of November, and my mom has already been harassing me.”

“How so?”

Alice sighed a big sigh: “In my family, birthdays have never been a thing. My parents already told me that I would get a series of book I had asked for, and I was happy out. Except, my mom…”

“Anna, Satan’s cousin, apparently.”

“Satan was the nice cousin in the family, as far as I know. Anyway, she cornered me the other day, asked me what was I going to do for my birthday. Of course, I said ‘nothing.’ She flipped, started saying that I never go out, that I never do anything, that I don’t have any friends from secondary school, and that she would reach out to Clara’s mom to organise something for us. Like we are still in primary school.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. I told her not to worry, that I would think of something and I would organise my own party, thank you very much, if that meant she left me in peace. And here I am.”

“Your mom is a tough cookie, isn’t she? Fortunately for you, I was already thinking of something that could make both of you happy.”

Alice was looking out of the window, lost in thought.

“I just… don’t like mandatory fun. And birthday parties are exactly that. I’d much rather be with fewer people, but people whom I actually like, doing something I like.” She slumped a little, her demeanour quite defeated. I did not like that. 

I squeezed her arm gently and, when she raised her head to look at me, I tried to give her my best shit-eating smile.

“You doing quite all right?”

“Not really no. I really don’t like mingling.”

“But here you are, mingling with me.”

“You don’t count. You basically forced your way in.”

I gave her an affronted look: “Ah, excuse me, I will shut up from now on!”

Alice batted away my hand, which was still resting on her arm, the contact warming me up by the second: “Oh shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Luckily for you, I do. I was just telling you about my marvellous evil plan.”

“What?”

“Yes. Have a party at your house, do you have a place for that there? Perfect. Invite some of your school friends. Then, your friend Samuel will invite Nico, who he knows from middle school. He lives down your same street so he’ll come by for a while no problem. Mom is happy because you have friends, Alice is happy because Nico is there in the flesh and you can put your charm at work with him…”

Alice looked pensive: “And what will make Sami happy?”

I had to really clamp down on my mouth for a second because she would not have liked what was about to come out from that hole. When I got my bearings back, I just went for: “Helping my friend out.”

Then it happened, an actual, beautiful smile started spreading on her face. She rarely smiled like that, like she was lighting up from within. It made me smile too.

Despite the small fact that I was setting her up with one of my friends and I was not very happy about it, and despite the fact that I was not really ready to recognise it either, I felt a pang of satisfaction. I passed her an earbud and said: “Put on Kula Shaker. Rock and Roll Mark Owen. And you are welcome, Ali.”