Page 63 of Am I the Only One

“Can I touch it?” he asks, reaching out when we get to the car, but before I can swat his hand away from Luca, it’s too late. Matthew laughs. “It’s crunchy. Emma, feel it. It’s crunchy.”

“It’s hair gel. It’s supposed to do that,” I say as we pile into Luca’s car and head to the hotel.

Luca and I took turns driving, and when we stopped to grab lunch, he booked us a room at a hotel that’s much nicer than the ones I stay in when I come home. Guilt tugged me beneath the surface, but he insisted on taking care of the room.

When we are in the elevator, Luca looks over to Matthew, saying, “Your sister told me you’re into airplanes.”

Matthew immediately perks up but turns to me instead of Luca. “Can we go to the airport while you’re here? You didn’t take me last time.”

“Why didn’t you take him last time?”

“Because we were busy,” I tell Luca before saying to Matthew, “We’re only here for a couple of days. I don’t know if we’ll have time.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Luca says when the elevator doors slide open and we step off. “I’ll take you to the airport.”

“Really? Can we go tomorrow? Do you think we will see any pilots?”

“If we don’t see any pilots, I’m sure we’ll see some cute flight attendants.”

Matthew breaks out in a nervous chuckle.

When Luca opens the door to our room, I’m surprised to see he booked us a suite. Matthew rushes in with total awe as Luca strolls over to the sitting area with nonchalance.

“This place is huge,” he exclaims with a beaming smile. “Look, Emma, there’s a balcony, and not one of the fake ones. You can actually go out on it!”

Matthew opens the doors to the balcony and goes outside.

“Be careful and don’t lean over the railing.” Setting my purse on the coffee table, I tell Luca, “You didn’t have to get us this big room.”

“There are three of us. No point in being cramped.” He pulls out the room service menu from the desk and starts flipping through the pages. “Where do you normally stay?”

“Greenfield Motel,” Matthew hollers from outside, and when Luca’s eyes shoot up to mine, heat creeps up my neck and I’m forced to look away. “The towels smell like cheese there.”

“No, they don’t,” I say to Matthew as he comes back inside, but they do, in fact, smell like cheese.

Luca hands my brother the menu. “Here, tell me what you want for dinner.”

Matthew sits on the couch next to me and starts reading through the options. “You can’t tell them that I ate. I’m on a hunger strike.”

“Your secret’s safe with us,” Luca responds. “Anything look good?”

“Can I have the shrimp fettuccini with no shrimp, no mushrooms, no shallots, and no sauce?”

The look on Luca’s face iseverything, and it takes a lot of effort to hold back my laughter.

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Oooooh, you shouldn’t say that word.”

Luca holds his hands up. “Sorry. My bad.”

I take the menu from Matthew before he gets up and starts exploring the rest of the suite. When Luca takes a seat next to me, I say, “He just wants buttered pasta.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ll just have the turkey wrap.”

After Luca places the order, he turns on the television and starts flipping through the channels. It’s awkward to have him here, hanging out with me and my brother. That feeling only amplifies when he asks, “Is that where you spent your Christmas? At that motel?”