hopelessness, ruin. The frozen statues, with their animated arms, legs, and faces, would haunt me forever. Passing through the exit, it was nice to step back into the twenty-first century and put their ghosts behind me. I knew I was in Italy to do touristy things, but Herculaneum didn’t sound appealing anymore—just another serving of anguish and desperation.
I needed fun. Anything to take my mind off of impending death.
“You’re quiet.” With his hands shoved in his pockets, Lucas kicked at a pebble, sending it skidding down the ornate sidewalk.
I shook off my dreary thoughts. “Sorry. The casts just got to me more than I thought they would. Had you seen them before?”
“Nope.”
“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” Every question I asked this guy, he answered in vague, one-word responses.
“Didn’t realize that question required a monologue for an answer.”
“Tell me something about you no one else knows.” I ignored his smart-ass comment and forced the issue. I wanted to know something personal, be in on one of his secrets.
Tourists and locals filled the busy commercial area, drowning our silence. After we’d put another city block behind us, I wondered if he’d heard me. Glancing at him, I noticed he watched his feet as he walked. I was just about to repeat my question when he said, “Mr. Waddles.”
“Uh, what?”
“Something no one knows about me.” He took his eyes from the ground and stared me down. “And if you tell anyone, I’ll deny I ever told you.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “What is a Mr. Waddles?”
“Mr. Waddles is my favorite stuffed animal.”
“Oh, really? Do you two cuddle at night?” I teased. A gorgeous, grown man with a favorite stuffed animal? That was precious.
When he smirked, I noticed it pulled up higher on the left side. Maybe that was what made his dimple so pronounced. Whatever the reason, his crooked mouth and dimple made for a swoon-worthy smile.
“Right now, Mr. Waddles is holding down the fort in San Diego, hanging out in the back of my closet.”
“And what is the story behin—”
“Uh-uh.” Lucas shook his head, interrupting. “I answered your question. You’re the only one on this planet who knows I still have Mr. Waddles.”
I gave him a big, toothy smile. It did feel nice to be privy to one of his guarded secrets. “Wow. I’m honored. One day, maybe I’ll even get to meet Mr. Waddles.”
Lucas’s eyes flashed. “Maybe,” he drawled. “Now it’s your turn,” he said, pointing.
“Am I answering the same question? Something no one else knows?”
He nodded. “Go for it.”
I thought about it. He’d offered a silly story, which I could have guessed was more significant than he let on, based on the way he turned the question back on me so quickly. I was confident Mr. Waddles’s real story would come to light at some point. But what was I going to tell him?
Mom and Nonna knew a lot about me—I usually told them everything—but I was careful to keep them in the dark when it came to my first three years of high school. Being a freshman on the varsity soccer team, I learned real quick what it meant to be “popular.” So had Penley. We partied with the best of them. Was it cheating if I told Lucas something that only Penley knew? She wasn’t going to rat me out.
“I lost my virginity in the backseat of Scotty Hendrickson’s mom’s Trailblazer on the night of my junior prom.”
Yep. Take that, Lucas Walsh. I just one-upped your Mr. Waddles.
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, not my finest moment.” I cringed. “Where are we eating, by the way?”
Both of us came to a stop on the sidewalk and took in our surroundings. “How about McDonald’s?” Lucas pointed straight ahead. “It’s always a trip to see what passes as McDonald’s in a foreign country.”
“I’m game.” My stomach rumbled at the thought of greasy fries and chicken nuggets.
We beat a path to the Golden
I needed fun. Anything to take my mind off of impending death.
“You’re quiet.” With his hands shoved in his pockets, Lucas kicked at a pebble, sending it skidding down the ornate sidewalk.
I shook off my dreary thoughts. “Sorry. The casts just got to me more than I thought they would. Had you seen them before?”
“Nope.”
“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” Every question I asked this guy, he answered in vague, one-word responses.
“Didn’t realize that question required a monologue for an answer.”
“Tell me something about you no one else knows.” I ignored his smart-ass comment and forced the issue. I wanted to know something personal, be in on one of his secrets.
Tourists and locals filled the busy commercial area, drowning our silence. After we’d put another city block behind us, I wondered if he’d heard me. Glancing at him, I noticed he watched his feet as he walked. I was just about to repeat my question when he said, “Mr. Waddles.”
“Uh, what?”
“Something no one knows about me.” He took his eyes from the ground and stared me down. “And if you tell anyone, I’ll deny I ever told you.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “What is a Mr. Waddles?”
“Mr. Waddles is my favorite stuffed animal.”
“Oh, really? Do you two cuddle at night?” I teased. A gorgeous, grown man with a favorite stuffed animal? That was precious.
When he smirked, I noticed it pulled up higher on the left side. Maybe that was what made his dimple so pronounced. Whatever the reason, his crooked mouth and dimple made for a swoon-worthy smile.
“Right now, Mr. Waddles is holding down the fort in San Diego, hanging out in the back of my closet.”
“And what is the story behin—”
“Uh-uh.” Lucas shook his head, interrupting. “I answered your question. You’re the only one on this planet who knows I still have Mr. Waddles.”
I gave him a big, toothy smile. It did feel nice to be privy to one of his guarded secrets. “Wow. I’m honored. One day, maybe I’ll even get to meet Mr. Waddles.”
Lucas’s eyes flashed. “Maybe,” he drawled. “Now it’s your turn,” he said, pointing.
“Am I answering the same question? Something no one else knows?”
He nodded. “Go for it.”
I thought about it. He’d offered a silly story, which I could have guessed was more significant than he let on, based on the way he turned the question back on me so quickly. I was confident Mr. Waddles’s real story would come to light at some point. But what was I going to tell him?
Mom and Nonna knew a lot about me—I usually told them everything—but I was careful to keep them in the dark when it came to my first three years of high school. Being a freshman on the varsity soccer team, I learned real quick what it meant to be “popular.” So had Penley. We partied with the best of them. Was it cheating if I told Lucas something that only Penley knew? She wasn’t going to rat me out.
“I lost my virginity in the backseat of Scotty Hendrickson’s mom’s Trailblazer on the night of my junior prom.”
Yep. Take that, Lucas Walsh. I just one-upped your Mr. Waddles.
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, not my finest moment.” I cringed. “Where are we eating, by the way?”
Both of us came to a stop on the sidewalk and took in our surroundings. “How about McDonald’s?” Lucas pointed straight ahead. “It’s always a trip to see what passes as McDonald’s in a foreign country.”
“I’m game.” My stomach rumbled at the thought of greasy fries and chicken nuggets.
We beat a path to the Golden
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