My Life’s Dream

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A simple, lighthearted, funny story of love and navigating the final couple years of Secondary School.

Romance / Other
Age Rating:

Nico di Angelo

I sighed as I looked out the window, headphones tucked snugly in my ears.

Fingers beating an imaginary rhythm on my lap as I try to forget the world around me. As I try to not only make myself disappear, but them as well.

It was the end of the third term. So it was time for the school's annual field trip.

They claimed it was one last hurrah before their form fives left them and ventured into a world of our own. Though, the teachers knew that most of us would return to write our A-Levels.

We needed to write and pass our A-Levels before we could apply to any universities.

Which consisted of going through both lower and upper six. Which was another two years. If your were lucky you'd be out by 18, most by 19 though.

Oh, and when I said lucky, I didn't mean with your grades I meant with your actual birthday.

If you were born later in the year, out by 18. Earlier out by 19.

I was neither. To make it easier on my mother I simply started school a year younger. So I was a year younger than everyone else.

Started first year when I was four instead of five.

Started form one when I was eleven instead of twelve.

And I'll finish secondary school. Well the five year programme by fifteen rather than sixteen or even seventeen.

Sure you could get any boring old job once you finished your secondary school education with five passes. But a lot of us actually wanted to further our education and get good jobs.

We were dudes.

I'm not saying women are incompetent. Trust me. I'm not saying that. I live with my mama and three sisters. I'm not saying I'm not an idiot, but I'd have to be a very idiotic idiot to think less of women.

It's just that- I wanted to feel needed.

I want to be the breadwinner for my future family. I want to take care of them and have them depend on me. It's just something that I want. I don't necessarily crave control and dominance. I just want to feel useful and needed.

I wasn't much to look at. Average height. 5'9. Average build. A little on the wiry side. Ugly brown hair that's probably too long. Unholy face. Muddy, shitty eyes. I had it all.

My name was pretty though. I had my father to thank for that.

Great man. I think. He passed when I was four in a car accident. Marcella would've been two and Angelina would've been one. Isabella was six at the time.

Mama worked her butt off, and Isabella pretty much raised us. But it wasn't necessarily a tragic story.

Mama was home as often as she could be. Which was enough. She was a lawyer, so her salary was already what we were living off of. She just had to work a little harder. Only thing was...she couldn't cook for shit.

Our father was a stay at home dad. Or so I was told. He did the cooking and the cleaning and had a job where he could work from home.

Our mother though... she was a free spirit. She never really learnt how to do house work, thinking that she would never really settle down.

Though that was a regret of hers, seeing as how things turned out, she was grateful that she had gotten her law degree young. She'd actually had both Izzy and I when she was still in Law School.

We turned out fine.

Our father named all of us, and cooking was in both mine and Isabella's blood. You couldn't see our Italian heritage too much by just looking at us. But our cooking skills and our names stated what our looks could not.

Accardi. Nicolo Accardi. Though I usually went by Nico.

Beautiful name I'm told. I couldn't speak a drop of Italian, and though I'd googled it many times, I couldn't for the life of me remember what it meant.

We were the Accardi family.

Isabella Accardi.

Nicolo Accardi.

Marcella Accardi.

And Angelina Accardi.

And of course our lovely mama. Lauren Baker.

She never changed her maiden name, because she was already halfway though law school at the time and it would've been too much of a hassle. But she was proud that all of us carried our father's name.

I never felt unappreciated or anything. Never felt unloved. It's just two baby sisters were special.

And they needed special care.

Marcella was blind and Isabella was autistic. And me, well I being a middle child. Naturally everything went over my head. But it was a little...I don't wanna say worse. So I'm not gonna.

No one really ever focused on my achievements.

I never hated either of my sisters for it. Not once. I love them, with all my heart. Sometimes I just wish the spotlight was on me.

But enough with my narcissistic thoughts. Back to this school trip.

Basically we were going camping somewhere. I overheard someone saying there was gonna random beds in a clearing in the woods somewhere.

I had simply shrugged to myself at the thought.

The bus had yet to start moving and I had yet to gain a seat partner.

I wasn't necessarily anti-social. I just didn't like people. But seriously. Who actually likes people?

I remember in primary school, because I was a year younger I was really picked on. Anyway, because I was really introverted I happened to be adopted by an extrovert.

She moved away though. Lost a good friend.

Anyway. I just didn't want to sit next to anyone. I was a drooler, a snorer and a cuddler.

Anyone who sat next to me during this twenty hour long bus drive was bound to be snored, drooled and cuddled on.

Not my fault.

It was nearing nine, the time the bus was supposed to leave and I was silently cheering in my head. Though my face remained a blank canvas.

I was gently humming now. Alec Benjamin. Great artist. Loved his work.

Anyway, I was humming and cheering silently when all of a sudden someone plopped down beside me.

I barely contained my groan.

"I'm not too happy either mate." Was the only thing he mumbled as he jammed his own headphones into his ears and promptly turned his head.

He was around my height. A couple inches taller at most. His hair was much darker than mine, maybe a little shorter. Still as floppy though. His eyes were closed so I couldn't see the colour of them. His features more Italian than my own.

"What's your name?" I asked coolly, trying to sound inconspicuous.

"Matteo," bingo. So he was Italian. "You?"

"Nicolo. I prefer Nico though."

That was when a very mischievous, very knowing smile graced his features.

His eyes, which I can now say were a little darker than my own, were sparkling wickedly.

"What?" I asked very suspicious as I paused my music.

"Nothing," his voice was light. Sing-song even.

"It's not nothing," I pouted, pushing harder.

"Seriously it's nothing." He insisted.

I huffed and turned my head, jamming my headphones back in and turning the music up.

Alec's voice wasn't enough to drown out his chuckles.

I cracked.

"Will you please just spit it out?" It was a near scream as the bus started moving.

Not many people were paying attention to us though. Most settling down to rest away most of the ride, our supervising teachers busy on their phones.

"You probably wouldn't even understand," he said in a voice that was asking me to calm down.

"Try me."

"You said your name is Nico." He stated it almost like a question.

"Yeah," I responded gesturing for him to go on.

"Well you see..."


"It's really nothing," he tried again.

"Not happening mister."

"I'm telling you're not gonna get it."

"And I told you to try me."

"But you're gonna think I'm weird."

"Who said I don't already think you're weird."


"Thank you. Now go on."

"But I really don't wanna."

"But I really don't care."

"But- but- but."

"No butts. Butts be bad."

"Not even a little butt? Butt be not good?"

"Butt be bad. Now please continue."

I'm pretty sure we were both grinning like idiots.


"Thank God."

"You may not want to mention him with what I'm about to say."

"Just spit it out," I grumbled, though I couldn't help the small smile.

"You're not gonna get it." He mumbled before breathing out heavily.

"Just get on with it."

"My last name's di Angelo."

"I don't ge- wait just a minute."

And he started laughing again.

"You do get it."

"That's what that whole tantrum was about?"

He nodded eagerly. "See, if you put the names together, you're my favourite person in the world."

"Sorry to disappoint luv. But my name's Accardi."

It slipped out. I usually only spoke to my sisters with this much enthusiasm. It just slipped out.

I refused to look at him.

"Sorry," I finally mumbled. "Force of habit."

"Yeah?" He asked after getting over his initial shock. "Why? You a player or something?" His eyes were once again dancing with that mischievous light.

I snorted. "Not even close?"

"Really? So why's it so natural? Huh loverboy?"

"Oh can it. I have a bunch of sisters. I tend to be very soft with my sisters. I rarely ever call them by their actual names."

"How many are a bunch?" He sat up straighter seemingly interested.

"Three," I mumbled sacred by his enthusiasm.

"Yeah?" He asked, strangely excited.

"Yes." I replied, strangely weirded out. "Why?"

"Cause I have three brothers."

I chuckled at that. "Huh. Must be a handful."

"Definitely. I'm second born so..yeah." He shrugged as he trailed off.

"Oh I know how it feels," I shot back with a chuckle if my own. "I'm second born too."

He laughed.

"It's like we live in a parallel worlds."

"Seems so," I think the conversation ended there.

It seemed to have. Matteo went quiet, and I went back to Alec Benjamin.

It was peaceful.
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