Chapter four

"Wherefrom is this? Where did you get all this money?" Mother stood with her mouth open, holding in her hand the bundle of bills I had collected for several months from Piero. "I found the money on the street. It must be fell out of someone's pocket," I lied without batting an eyelid.

I did not think for a moment that my mother would tell me, "let's go to the police and hand over the money," and to my delight, it did not happen either. Instead, mother decided that now was the time to go to Milan as she had promised, but even though I wanted to, I decided not to waste the money I had earned with cramping muscles, on some sheet stained with the blood of Christ. Honestly, I did not believe this story that was broadcasted on television some time ago.

"Tomorrow we'll go eat at a restaurant, and you order everything you like," my mother informed me in a solemn voice, adding, "And then we'll buy new clothes, too."

So, we went to the pizzeria, and apart from the pizza, there was nothing to order, but at least I had a particularly delicious tiramisu. And as for the clothes, yes, Mom bought new clothes, some pairs of shoes, fashionable Ferragamo sunglasses and a tailored suit, but only for herself.

I decided I would stop working with the dogs and especially with Piero. I was very angry with my mother but said nothing. "When the money will run out, there will be no more miracle, so why should I make an effort?"

I excelled in class and finished the sixth year with the best grades. Everyone wanted to be friends with me, but only to one of the students I showed great affection; it was Claudio who always made me laugh when he would throw notes at the teacher in the middle of a lesson "Teacher, your fingers got dirty from the chalk," or he would get up in the middle of class and say "Teacher, I have to go to the bathroom because I'm afraid my bladder will burst." To me, it was funny, but not to the teacher, and so it happened that every week Claudio's parents were summoned to the school principal.

Summer holidays came; it was sad for me as Dad is no longer with us. Mom informed me that she was traveling for a few days with her girlfriend from work, but I knew she was lying about the company.

"Do not worry, I will manage on my own," I reassured her, although I knew she did not worry at all; I was the girl with the key around her neck, and from a young age, I learned how to manage.

When I was left alone at home, I invited Claudio, and from noon until evening we watched TV and ate sweets. When it got dark, I asked him to stay with me; he explained that his father would beat him if he did not show in the evening. I promised him we would hug and kiss, but the temptations did not convince him. The fear of his father was stronger than any of my promises, so he left, not before promising to return the next day.

I lay in bed with a small light on and could not fall asleep, I turned from side to side, and nothing helped. Finally, I decided to take a cold shower since the evenings in July and August were hot and stuffy. I soaped up and rubbed my buds with plenty of soap and then between my legs. I stroked my pubic hair and felt great pleasure. I had not masturbated before, and I did not know precisely how to do it, but touching a soapy finger on my clitoris made me shiver and want to continue. After long minutes of constant pleasure, I suddenly felt a tremor in my thighs and almost fell; it passed through my whole body, and my legs trembled. I grabbed the wall and sat down on the toilet, and from there, moved towards the bed. Within minutes I fell asleep with a broad smile on my face.

At eight in the morning, I woke up to hear a knock on the door, got out of bed in my underwear and tank top, and peered through the peephole, Claudio standing there tense and nervous. I decided to embarrass him and opened the door as I was, half-naked. Claudio blushed and looked away. "Come on; you have nothing to fear; I do not bite."

Claudio came in, and I led him to my mother's bedroom. "Don't worry, she's not coming back today," I reassured him.

Claudio was totally inexperienced, almost like me. I had the idea what the adults were doing, but I had no experience with sex, and I thought that together with Claudio, we could learn about each other and do exciting and entertaining things alike.

"Undress, at least be in underwear like me," I goaded him. He sat on the edge of the bed, terribly embarrassed, and did not move, did not look at me even. It wasn't the same Claudio, the loudmouth who would score points every time he was rude to a teacher or made his funny remarks.

I approached him from behind and hugged him. I kissed his neck and licked his ear, but he sat in the same frozen pose on the bed. I reached for his pants to stimulate him a bit, but he jumped and ran to the toilet, locking himself in. About a quarter of an hour later, I still did not hear a sound. I went to the bathroom. "Claudio, what's wrong with you?" I asked in a low voice, but he did not answer.

I went back to bed and lay down; another ten minutes passed until I suddenly heard the toilet door opening, and he came out. I got up to meet him, but he was faster and slipped out of the apartment quickly. I did not understand what had happened to him, but when he came out, I saw that he was trying to hide a stain on his pants with his hands.

The next day at the playground, all the neighborhood kids met, like every day. Claudio eluded me and completely ignored my attempts to talk to him. Finally, I went over and handed him a note in which I wrote, "Dear Claudio, I love you and want to be your girlfriend; everything that happened in my apartment was my fault, and I will keep it to myself. I understand you were not ready, but I, too, am entirely inexperienced and tried to show off to impress you, and in the end, it became ridiculous. Forgive me and answer me. Yours, Giusy."

And the answer was not long in coming, on the same day one of our mutual friends gave me a note from Claudio "Dear Giusy; I'm sorry I ran away, I was not ready, let's try again tomorrow." I read the sentence repeatedly and could not understand why he did not refer to the two most important statements I wrote to him: the one is that I want to be his girlfriend, and the second is that I am in love with him.

Despite the disappointment, I still decided to meet with him and hear him out; I didn't want him to think I was some horny whore.

The following day he arrived towards ten o'clock. By eight o'clock, I was already dressed and smelling good for the meeting. When he came in and saw that I was dressed, he smiled, "This time, there are no surprises?" He asked.

"I saw you do not like surprises, so I will not surprise you again," I replied.

He went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, raised his head, and looked at me as if trying to say, "Come to bed, that's why you invited me," so at least I understood. I did not move. "Do you want me to sit next to you?" I asked.

He did not answer but looked at me with a kind of amused and intrigued look to know what step I would take.

And I stood still, "If you do not tell me why you came and what you want from me, nothing will happen between us," I told him.

Suddenly he got up, left the bedroom, and walked towards the door. "Are you going already?" I asked.

"I thought you wanted to do it, but I was probably wrong," he said, waiting a moment to hear my response.

"You're childish; you think you're a man, but you're still a little boy who's afraid of his father," I replied.

"And you are a whore," he shouted and slammed the door behind him.

I felt hurt but proud of myself for not letting him touch me without declaring friendship and love. I knew that after the act, he would run and spread throughout the neighborhood about his exploits, and I would be ashamed to show myself in public.