Chapter 1
Another First Day
Milan was supposed to feel different.
That was what Dad had said.
“This time, Rosaline, things will be different.”
He had said the same thing in Rome.
And Florence.
And Turin.
And, if I remembered correctly, three apartments before those.
I stared through the car window as Milan slipped past in shades of grey and gold. Old buildings stood beside modern cafés, scooters squeezed between cars, and people hurried along the sidewalks as though everyone had somewhere important to be.
Maybe they did.
I didn’t.
My schoolbag rested against my knees, still smelling faintly of the new leather my mother had bought me two days ago. Everything about today was new.
New city.
New school.
New uniform.
New classmates.
Again.
I sighed and rested my forehead against the glass.
Being the new girl had stopped being exciting somewhere around my fourth school.
Dad called it moving for work.
Mom called it starting over.
I called it running away.
Dad was a broker. At least, that was the respectable version.
The less respectable version was that he had a talent for making promises to people, taking their money, and somehow disappearing before those promises had to be kept.
Every time someone figured it out, we moved.
A new city.
A new apartment.
A new school.
A new version of ourselves.
I had become very good at pretending not to care.
The car stopped outside the gates of my new school.
I looked up.
The academy was beautiful.
Tall stone buildings covered in ivy surrounded a wide courtyard. Students moved through the gates in small groups, laughing and talking as though they had known one another forever.
I suddenly felt twelve years old again.
Small.
Lost.
Temporary.
“Rosaline,” Mom said from the front seat, turning toward me. “You’ll be fine.”
I gave her a smile.
“I know.”
It was a lie.
But it was a familiar one.
I stepped out of the car and adjusted my bag.
The school bell rang.
Perfect.
First day.
First bell.
Same old story.
I walked through the gates.
Nobody knew me yet.
And, for once, I liked it that way.
I had barely crossed the courtyard when I noticed something strange.
Almost everyone seemed to be talking about the same person.
“...apparently he’s already here.”
“No way. I heard he transferred this morning.”
“Did you see him?”
“He’s ridiculously handsome.”
“I heard his family owns half the city.”
“No, my brother said they’re connected to—”
The girl lowered her voice.
I couldn’t hear the last word.
I didn’t need to.
The way everyone suddenly looked around told me it was something interesting.
I continued walking.
Another girl hurried past me, whispering excitedly to her friend.
“Cairo Moretti.”
The name caught my attention.
Not because I knew him.
Because apparently everyone else did.
I almost laughed.
Of course.
One day into a new school and there was already a mysterious boy at the center of everyone’s attention.
I wasn’t interested.
I had enough problems of my own.
I walked toward the administration building, following the signs until I found the principal’s office.
The receptionist checked my name and handed me a folder.
“Rosaline Bellini?”
“Yes.”
“Transfer student?”
“Unfortunately.”
She smiled.
I wasn’t sure if she was supposed to laugh.
“Principal’s waiting for you.”
I knocked before stepping inside.
“Come in.”
I opened the door.
The principal was sitting behind a large wooden desk, looking through my documents.
“Rosaline. Welcome to—”
Then I noticed I wasn’t alone.
Someone was sitting in the chair opposite the principal.
A boy.
He had dark hair that fell slightly across his forehead and the kind of calm expression that made it difficult to guess what he was thinking.
His uniform was perfectly arranged, though his tie was slightly loose.
He looked bored.
Completely uninterested in everything happening around him.
Until he looked up.
Our eyes met.
And my brain—
for reasons I would later regret—
forgot how to function.
I stopped walking.
Just for a second.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
Then I remembered that breathing was generally considered necessary.
I looked away first.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
The principal smiled.
“You must be Rosaline.”
“Rose,” I corrected automatically.
He nodded.
“Rose, this is Cairo Moretti.”
Of course.
Cairo.
The boy everyone had been whispering about.
He stood.
He was taller than I had expected.
“Hi.”
One word.
That was all.
I nodded.
“Hi.”
Brilliant, Rose.
Absolutely brilliant.
The principal continued talking about my timetable, school rules, lockers and class schedules.
I tried to listen.
I really did.
But my attention kept drifting toward the boy standing across from me.
Cairo Moretti.
There was something strange about him.
Everyone outside had been talking about how handsome he was.
Nobody had mentioned that he looked like someone who didn’t want to be here.
Eventually, the principal handed me my timetable.
“Your classroom is on the second floor. Someone will show you the way.”
“I can find it.”
Cairo glanced at me.
For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Confident.”
I looked at him.
“Is that a problem?”
“No.”
He picked up his bag.
“I like confident.”
Then he walked past me.
The faintest trace of his cologne followed him into the hallway.
I stood there for another second.
Then I looked down at my timetable.
Class 11-B.
Great.
New city.
New school.
New classmates.
And apparently, a boy named Cairo Moretti who had already managed to get under my skin without actually doing anything.
I shook my head.
Whatever.
I’d forget about him by lunch.
At least, that’s what I thought.
