Capitolo VI...

title: "Shadow Line: September, Engines, and Heartbeats That Make No Noise" date: "September" tags: ["Life Diary", "Nineties", "Short Stories", "Adolescence", "Personal Blog"]

"September is a beautiful season, a suspended shadow line where summer ends and autumn slowly begins..."

🍂 The Scent of Wet Earth and the Return to Routine

There is something deeply magnetic about the air in September. The days grow shorter, the avenues turn shades of red and orange, and the brain—implacable—reminds us that vacations are officially a memory. Between the light rain tapping on the roofs, the strong scent of wet earth, and the thin smoke rising once again from the village chimneys, for me it has always been the perfect moment to yield to melancholy. After all, I was born melancholic.

But this year, the pieces of my family mosaic were changing shape too quickly to wallow purely in thought:

• Mauro, my brother, was finally about to finish his year of military service and return home from Roma.

• I was getting ready to cross the threshold of my last three years of high school (pure anxiety!).

• Dad was an erupting volcano, full of projects and extraordinarily proactive.

• Mom, for the time being, was continuing her business in linen sales.

And right at the end of that summer, a new face began to orbit steadily in my life: Mattia.

🏍️ New Company, Old Jukeboxes, and... Plot Twists

Mattia and I had started seeing each other secretly behind my parents' backs. Mom, after all, was still stuck on my crazy, tormented love affair with the metalhead Edoardo, so I preferred to keep quiet. Our afternoon outings had found a new soundtrack and a new mode of transportation. Mattia—whom I met at the seaside, the good guy I had started confiding in—owned a moped meant for minors. At first, we saw each other alone, but soon our outings expanded to include his adventure-seeking friends: Michele, a blond boy with delicate features, shy and reserved, who rode a white Vespa, and Fabio, a more extroverted type with a quick wit and a lively gaze.

Our meeting place became the old Casa del Popolo in the village. Inside there was still an old, dusty jukebox: we would drop in a coin, choose a song from the era, sit at a formica table, and eat an ice cream while chatting cheerfully.

I remember as if it were today the moment we all introduced ourselves around that table. Milena, usually aloof, as soon as she saw Michele arrive, was momentarily thrown off. When he, with a shyness mirroring hers, held out his hand murmuring in a faint voice, "Hi, I'm Michele...", a sudden blush rose to Milena's cheeks. She pulled herself into her hoodie and smiled faintly at him, but immediate affection was already shining through her eyes.

Silvia, on the contrary, did the exact opposite. When Mattia introduced her to Fabio, she didn't even wait for the guy to finish greeting her: she sized him up from head to toe with her usual defiant boldness, planted a firm handshake on him, and started talking a mile a minute. She hopped onto his motorcycle, making him laugh out loud after not even two minutes; Fabio was immediately intrigued by that hurricane of a girl, and the understanding between the two of them clicked on the tracks of irony.

We were there, all five of us, chatting away happily, when through the large glass window of the place we saw a noisy swarm of scooters arrive and park abruptly right next to our motorcycles. I looked outside and my heart skipped a beat: I saw a guy getting off a gorgeous blue and white motorcycle who used to go to my old middle school. He still had the exact same effect on me as he used to. I liked him, there was no getting around it.

I spied on every single movement of his from inside the bar; he had a wonderful energy, proud and carefree, but seemed completely indifferent to my presence. He walked past our table without sparing us a glance and reached the counter to buy cigarettes. He ran with a particular crowd of guys—subjects that I, for upbringing and protection, shouldn't have even looked at sideways. I immediately picked up the thread of the conversation I was having with Mattia; nobody at the table noticed that mental detour of mine.

💭 Interactive Diary Space: Enter the Story!

While I was there with Mattia, I saw him get off his scooter through the glass. A guy from my old middle school, getting off a gorgeous blue and white motorcycle. The one who, despite the passing time, still gives me that heart-throbbing effect. He came in, bought his cigarettes, and didn't even deign to give me a glance, surrounded by that "peculiar" crowd that my family wouldn't look upon favorably. I brushed it off and kept talking to Mattia, but deep inside... well, you know.

Now the story pauses here, and you write this page together with me.

Choose how to make this chapter evolve by replying with one of the options below (or suggesting your own in the comments):

• [Option A] Mattia's Jealousy: Mattia notices that my gaze has drifted into the void and spots the guy on the blue motorcycle. The tension rises. How do I react?

• [Option B] The Close Encounter: Leaving the bar, our gazes truly cross. Do I find the courage to say something, or let everything vanish in the smoke of a cigarette?

• [Option C] The Secret with Silvia: I decide to confide in Silvia during the Vespa ride back home, risking the chance that she might go and tell Fabio (and the whole village).

Leave a comment below with your choice or with your memories of that September when everything seemed possible.