Read Online Even the Moon Has Scars by Steph Campbell - Free Book Online Page B

his eyes trained on my hand the entire time.
    “So we’re good?” Gabe asks.
    I have no idea what we are. Is he my friend? Can you be friends with someone you’ve only known for a couple of hours? I guess so.
    “We’re great,” I say.
     

 

    “I want to ask you something and I want you to answer me honestly, Lena,” Gabe says.
    He pitches his coffee cup into a trash bin and I follow suit.
    “No, I did not like that coffee,” I say.
    “Yeah, me neither, it was terrible, right? But that wasn’t the question.”
    I know that. But I’m scared of what the actual question may be.
    I nervously spin the clasp on the bracelet I’m wearing and take in a deep breath.
    “When was the last time you were over on the North End and had a cannoli from Mike’s Pastry? Because ever since we got off the train this afternoon, I cannot stop thinking about getting one.”
    I stare back at him and slowly say, “I’ve had...a cannoli...but…”
    Gabe stops mid-step and tugs on my wrist to stop me too.
    “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never been to Mike’s?” We’re standing smack in the middle of a sidewalk, people are having to part like the Red Sea to get around us.
    “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore,” Gabe says, shaking his head.
    “You don’t know me,” I say.
    “Enlighten me then, Lena. How can someone live forty minutes from the city and have never been to Mike’s?”
    “I just...I don’t make it out here a lot.” We cross another street and I am so turned around. I have no idea where we are in relation to where Gabe’s apartment was, or the train station, or anything.
    “This is the greatest city in America—maybe the world—”
    “I thought that was New York?” I ask.
    “Eh, New York’s alright. Boston—Boston is the real heart of America. We’ve got the best food, we’ve got those swan boats, we’re the home of The Pixies,” he says.
    “I don’t know who The Pixies are,” I say.
    Gabe clutches at his chest. “You’re breaking my heart.”
    I don’t flinch this time, because he doesn’t know, and having someone not know is a beautiful thing all on its own.
    “The North End, I’m not gonna lie, Lena, I think Pizza Regina may have better pizza than anywhere else, even New York.”
    “Wait, what?” I ask. “That’s blasphemy. New York pizza is something I dream about.”
    “Oh, so you can visit New York and eat their pizza but Boston—it’s so close, and you can’t even make it here to eat a cannoli?”
    I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. I know he’s joking but it’s not funny anymore.
    “It’s not like I had a choice, Gabe,” I say. “I told you my parents are really protective.”
    “So, what, they never brought you into the city?”
    “Why are you pushing this so hard?” I stalk away from him and walk as fast as I can.
    “Hey, Lena,” he says, rushing to catch up to me. “I didn’t mean to piss you off. I was just joking. I don’t even really know what I did, but I’m sorry.”
    “I know, it’s not you,” I say, shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat. “I just want you to know that if I haven’t done something, it’s not because I haven’t wanted to. It’s because I couldn’t . But I’m here now, and I want to see and do… So can we…can we just enjoy the rest of the day?”
    “Sure,” he says. The wind kicks up and blows his hair out of his eyes. They look sincere. “Whatever you say, Lena.”
    I slow my pace as we come to a red brick wall, and I stop altogether in front of an open, wrought iron gate. Gabe bristles next to me as he eyes the entrance.
    “Is this...?”
    “Yep,” he says.
    “No way. Can we go in?”
    “You want to tour Harvard?” he asks. I watch the way his neck muscles flex when he swallows hard.
    “Is that okay? I mean, we don’t have to stop at the museum or anything, but I’d love to see the campus. Just really quick?”
    “You’ve really never been here?” I shake my head and Gabe