Page 3 of The Devil's Deal

“Because why?” She sounds genuinely curious about what I have to say.

I gulp down the nerves, the fear. My heart beats loudly in my chest. I can almost hear it. Feel it in my throat.

“I…umm.” My voice shakes with dread.

“Whatever you tell me, it stays with us,” she reassures me. “You have my word.”

I nod on instinct, as though she can see it. “Because of…um…my dad.” I let the words tumble out quickly, and they don’t stop. “No one likes him, so no one likes me. That’s probably why I have no friends other than Dom. He’s great, so I don’t need anyone else, but it still sucks not to be liked. To be talked about. Please don’t tell my mom what I told you! She’ll be so sad to know I’m sad.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Her voice drifts low and sympathetically. “I won’t say anything, but you listen here. You’re not your father. No one has a right to judge you for someone else’s actions. And those kids at school? Screw ’em.”

A teary laugh bubbles out of me. “You just cursed.”

“I know,” she whispers. “Don’t tell Dom.”

“I won’t,” I giggle, wiping under my eye.

“I’m so happy to hear that laugh. Now we both have a little secret between us.”

“Thank you for always being nice to me.”

“I love you, Chiara. You’re like one of my kids. I’ve got four little knucklehead sons. I need a daughter.”

“They’re not so bad,” I add with a laugh.

“You kidding? They drive me up the wall, especially Enzo and Dante. Those two are the reason I have gray hair.”

“Ma!” I hear Dante’s voice call out. “When will Dad be home so we can have dinner? I’m starving!”

“You see what I mean?” she asks me. “I just gave them a snack thirty minutes ago. Oy, these boys. Let me go finish cooking before they revolt. Tell your mom I said hello and to call when she can.”

“Okay. Tell Dom I said bye.”

“I will. Bye, honey.”

Long after she hangs up, I lie in my bed, hoping I didn’t say more than I should’ve. More than what can get me hurt.

* * *

DOMINIC

AGE 10

As soon as my mom grabbed the phone away, she went into the kitchen to talk to Chiara alone. I hope she didn’t say anything embarrassing about me. My mom is definitely good at that. She still expects me to kiss her goodbye when she drops me off at school.

I’m ten now. Not five like Matteo, the baby in the family. I’m the oldest, so I don’t know why Mom treats me like a kid.

The kids at school already look at me weird. I don’t need to give them another reason not to like me. Kissing my mom is not going to win me any friends.

Whatever.

I don’t need them. I have Chiara, and she’ll always have me. I don’t even know how not to be friends with her. We kind of always were.

I hate that her dad doesn’t like me. I’m kind of afraid she’ll start hating me too. That maybe he’ll make her stop being my friend. I don’t want that to ever happen. It’s one of my biggest fears, and she has no idea.

For the next hour, I continue doing my homework until Dad gets home from work, and then my brothers and I get to setting the table while he takes a shower.

“Take this,” I tell Dante, handing him two plates while taking the other four.

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