On The Tracks ✔

Chapter 27: 'Sticks 'N' Stones May Break My Bones'

Gwen

I knew Gabriella and Raffaele hated this Patrizio guy, but it's like they have this weird friendship with him as well. I don't understand the relationship they have with Patrizio.

"Why do you hate him so much?" I finally asked.

Gabriella looked drained from the revelations she had today, I felt bad for pressurising her into telling me about Patrizio, but the curiosity was killing me.

"Patrizio and I were friends," she started off, "Not too close friends but I'd like to think he would've helped me if I asked," she let out a breath, "right now, I don't know how to feel about him."

~~~

BEFORE

July 22nd, 2014

Gabriella

"I've considered your offer," I muttered out, sitting beside him at breakfast today. Raffaele and I still weren't talking, "I'll be your girlfriend," I gritted out.

He raised an eyebrow and ate his marmalade and toast – I grimaced at the combination. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you?"

"I'll be your damn girlfriend," I growled out, "Don't let me repeat it."

He laughed at me, "The annual Goretti Gala is coming up, and you're going to be my date," I pursed my lips. "Should I drop a dress at your place or will you pick one yourself?"

"Just drop it over, I doubt I'll have time to choose one when I get back to the cabin," I rubbed the stress lines on my forehead.

Patrizio wiped his messy fingers on a napkin, "What's got you so stressed?" he asked.

"Guilia's fashion show is coming soon," I groaned, "Mum and Dad haven't been picking my calls. Sure I'm happy for her, but what does it take for them to realise that they have two daughters."

He dropped his napkin on his plate, "I can not relate, but," he patted my shoulder awkwardly, "that's the best I can do."

I couldn't help but laugh at how uncomfortable he was, "It's fine," I wiped the happy tears from my eyes.

~~~

I saw the navy blue dress on my bed, it was a lovely colour the dress was a simple spaghetti–strap dress, it had layers to it that weren't too poofy.

I slipped into it, and stared at the pair of blue heels that were at my bedside. I walked to my shoe compartment in my wardrobe and brought out a pair of blue trainers.

Much better.

I made my way outside to see Patrizio in a mint green 1955 Ford Thunderbird. I nodded my head with approval, "Nice car."

"Thanks," he smiled as he pressed the horn, startling me, "Are you coming in or not?" I rolled my eyes at his brashness.

The hall was a few miles away from the cabins, it was decorated all out, the gala is for trainees to mingle with experts and possible sponsors for when our career takes off and we need that special call.

Usually it would have been packed, but the atmosphere was a bit slow – paced, it felt like all of those boring events, Mum made me attend before this racing camp.

We walked in, with us on each other's arm, I'm not someone's object neither is he. Eyes were all on us.

'I thought she was with Raffaele'

'What is she doing with him?'

'Do you think there might be a fight?' –

I rolled my eyes at the snippets of conversations floating around us. "I'm going to get a drink," he raised an eyebrow with interest, "a non–alcoholic drink, you dimwit."