The Roof (Lovino and Antonio)

In all 18 years of his life, Antonio had only been nervous three times.

The first time was when he met Lovino Vargas (and his younger brother, Feliciano). It was a family dinner, arranged by his parents and the Vargas boys' grandfather. Antonio was ten at the time and had only seen a picture of Lovino. But he knew, just from that one photo of the small Italian, that there was something special about him. The thought of meeting him in person had made his stomach churn anxiously, hoping to impress.

The second was when he moved from Spain to America, roughly four years ago. His English was barely passable and his accent was extremely pronounced. He knew nothing of American currency or customs (somehow always nodding off in his English class). In short, he was like a fish out of water. He knew nothing but stereotypes of both Americans and Spanish and worried about being judged. However, once he got into the swing of things, it wasn't too bad.

And the third? The third was now. Senior year. The roof of the school. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Antonio had woken up at four AM to make it to the local farmer's market early in order to pick the ripest tomatoes. He placed them in a basket with a few flowers and chocolate bars, as well, and a little Italian Flag pin. The basket was hidden in his locker at roughly 6:30 AM, when he arrived at the school.

Then came the waiting.

Six whole hours, four class periods, of waiting, and waiting, and waiting, for lunch to roll around and for Lovino to read his note and meet him on the roof.