The grim reality of Carlo’s death was fading from my mind because I was enjoying the company of Adrian and Vlad. We’d never hung out like this before. They were my seniors by four and six years, so I guess it wasn’t cool for them to hang out with me when we were younger. But we were older now, and Vlad was proving to be more tolerable to be around. Adrian had no shame in recounting his own past misbehaviors, and I’d learned a lot more about them while we sat there talking over copious amounts of dessert.

“Goodness, Montgomery,” muttered Adrian as he ran his eyes over the piles of empty plates on the table. “I never thought of you as a glutton.”

“Hey! No fair. I was starving.” I reached for the panna cotta and paused. “This was Carlo’s favorite dessert. He said he used to help his grandma . . .” I trailed off.

Adrian looked like he was about to try to comfort me, but Vlad leaned forward. There was a playfulness in his expression that I wasn’t used to seeing in him. I used to think he only had two manners: stern and smug. But he was proving me wrong. “So, do you prefer the term gourmand, Avy?”

It was like he knew I didn’t want to get upset again, not here in the restaurant while we were otherwise having a good time.

“Gour-what?” Adrian said. I was as clueless as him, but there was no way I would let them know that, so I kept my poker face on.

“Gourmand. Someone who eats too much,” Vlad answered.

I gulped nervously. Why did he have to look that good? I was secretly hoping they didn’t notice my silence. The god of luck shone upon me as Adrian kept talking. “Wait, I thought that’s a glutton?”

Finally averting his gaze from me, Vlad turned to Adrian. “A glutton is someone who eats more than what they need.”

I was finally able to form a sentence and blurted out, “A walking dictionary is what you are.”

I shook my head and reached for my cup of precious hot chocolate. Holding it with two hands, I raised the mug and took a sip. We’d ordered two slices of cheesecake, one tiramisu, two panna cottas, three cannoli, one pavlova, and two slices of pie. The boys only ate one cannolo each, and then Adrian grabbed two pieces of the panna cotta while Vlad took one slice of apple pie. I had eaten the rest.

“Hot chocolate is far superior to those coffees,” I said.

Vlad put his Caffè Americano down. “After that much sweetness? You need something bitter to balance it out.”