Guy-Talk
Days later, and Angelo was still skittish. Research on schools, daily assignments, volunteer work, and neighborhood patrolling had been able to keep him busy until he found a spot in Andrew's schedule that he could reasonably impose upon. The trick had been finding one where he wouldn't have to go through Gio first, besides not taking Andrew away from all of his very important work. The boy had been a bundle of nerves ever since... the unthinkable* had happened.

He ran a hand through his hair and did his best to collect his thoughts, which seemed to keep running out of his head like water from a sieve. "Nella vita, chi non risica... non rosica," he told himself sternly, before knocking on Andrew's door.


*Unthinkable in a fantastically good way.