“I shouldn’t have hooked up with Giovanni.”

He shrugged. “Okay, yeah. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey!” I elbowed him lightly, and he chuckled.

“They were a messy couple anyway,” Neil said. “Bound to break up eventually. I was with Rocco a long time ago, just for a little bit, and oh man. I know what he’s like. Combined with Giovanni’s entitlement . . . well, it was only a matter of time.”

I glanced down at the bracelets on Neil’s arms—one made out of turquoise beads, the other black beads. I had asked him about them once and he said the first one was a gift from an old girlfriend, from back when he was “straight,” and the second one he’d gotten with Francesco when they went to Madagascar spontaneously for their one-year anniversary. Then I noticed the engagement ring on his finger.

“Remember when you told me sometimes you don’t recognize that person?” I said, pointing at his ring. “Right after Francesco proposed. You were drunk, and you were like, ‘sometimes I can’t believe I’m, like, this serious, committed person now.’ It’s funny because that’s the only ‘you’ I know. It’s hard to believe you once dated Rocco.”

“I guess there’s more to people than meets the eye,” Neil said.

“Yeah. About that.” I hesitated, then I turned to him. “I didn’t really tell you guys the truth about my family. They never kicked me out. I left home before I even had the chance to come out to them.”

Neil’s eyes grew wide. “Oh.”

“It’s a long story, but basically someone at my school was going to out me, so I ran.”

“Ah.”

“And I just didn’t think . . .” I bit my lip. “I wish I had told you guys from the beginning. I wish I could go back in time to that dinner party and just suck it up and tell the truth.”

“You’re telling the truth now,” Neil said.

I tried to smile. “I don’t know what I feel worse about, that or the Giovanni thing.”

“Again. Not. Your. Fault.”

“It was so stupid of me, though. Giovanni had just invited me to Umbria, and I thought maybe we’d be friends and I wouldn’t be alone after Jahan leaves . . .”

“Um, hello? Aren’t I your friend?” Neil nudged me. “In fact, I have an idea. Come with Francesco and me to our mountain home. It won’t be nearly as glamorous as Giovanni’s villa in Umbria, but the view is amazing. We’re driving up after Jahan’s goodbye party.”

I wanted to, but I didn’t know if I trusted myself, after how I had messed up Giovanni and Rocco’s relationship, not to do the same with Neil and Francesco. But then I thought about it: Neil was a genuine friend. And this was a genuine, friendly invite.

“Grazie,” I said. “I’d love to.”

• • •

We gave up on the Italian lesson and moved up to the rooftop. About twenty people were drinking and chatting under the fairy lights, a mixed crowd of men and women, young and old, while a band played folk music.