Alessandro peered absentmindedly at the silver bracelet he held in his hand, while meanwhile continuing to walk along the sidewalk.

With only about ten minutes left before classes began, there were quite a few people around the school's boundary wall at that time. Students who had arrived by school bus were added to those who had arrived by bicycle, electric scooter, scooter, or accompanied by car by their parents.

Since, with very rare exceptions, it was his mother who drove him, Marco always managed to anticipate him by a few minutes, but even so, Alessandro could hardly remember a day when his friend had entered the inner courtyard without waiting for him. And taking into account the particularity of the occasion, there was no reason for things to take a different turn that morning.

After all, the excitement she had glimpsed in his eyes as she handed him the gift bought especially for Mary was hard to misinterpret.

"So, you say it's okay?" Marco asked him in an apprehensive tone.

''Yes, I think so,'' Alessandro replied hastily, handing the bracelet back to him. ''Do you have any food with you?''

''The chocolates seemed too vintage to me.''

''Not for her, for me,'' Alessandro pointed out clearly impatient.

Although slightly taken aback by that rude retort, Marco maintained the same conciliatory expression.

''No, I'm sorry.''

Upon receiving that answer Alessandro looked away from him, and while keeping his lips tight, he gritted his teeth in frustration.

''Are you feeling all right?" asked Marco cautiously, putting the bracelet back in his pocket. ''You look a little strange today.''

''I am perfectly fine,'' Alessandro retorted testily, without taking his eyes off the crowded sidewalk. ''Are you sure you don't have any food?''

''Wait a minute...'' He stopped, and placing the folder on the asphalt he began to rummage through it. ''Maybe I should have some sugar-free butts here.''

Alessandro remained motionless by his side as the other students continued on their way to the school gates.

After about ten seconds had elapsed, Marco pulled his hand out of one of the backpack's inner pockets and then extended his arm in his friend's direction.

''Here, take them all if you want,'' he said, handing him a pack of lemon-yellow chewing gum, ''but I warn you, this brand tastes strange.''

As if he was waiting for nothing else, Alessandro snatched the package from his hand and emptied it into his mouth without blinking. At that point he handed the package back to Marco.

''Okay, maybe it's not that important,'' he commented puzzled, meanwhile Alessandro was noisily chewing that half-dozen pieces of gum all at once.

''Just try not to get caught in class,'' Marco warned him, putting the folder back on his shoulders. ''The first hour we have Ronzini.''

Alessandro curved his lips into a scornful grin.

Ronzini. What a stupid name.

It resembled nag. Like a poor quality horse.

Horse

Images of giant skewers enveloped in seductive vapors took shape in his mind.

By now they had practically reached the main entrance of the institution when they spotted Maria walking through the open gate in the company of her friends. Marco immediately slipped his hand into his pocket to retrieve the bracelet.

''Do you think I should give it to him now or--''

Busy as they were laughing among themselves, a group of fifth-year students shoved Marco without even bothering to apologize to him.

Caught off guard by the collision, the bracelet ended up slipping out of his hand, and at the end of a short flight, it disappeared between the rusted grates of a storm drain.

''Oh, shit,'' gasped Marco as he knelt on the sidewalk.

''Hey, be careful!" blurted Alessandro, turning to those in charge.

The leader of the group, a muscular boy with a dimple on his chin, turned away while still laughing.

''What did you say, excuse me?" he asked with an air of cockiness.

The reasons behind his confidence could hardly be called a mystery. Although Alessandro remained the tallest among them all in fact, the numerical advantage of five to one represented an obstacle that was difficult to surmount. Nevertheless, Alessandro did not seem at all intimidated.

"To be careful, you prick!" he growled sourly.

The astonishment that had spread across the young man's face following that answer disappeared almost immediately, to be replaced by a hostile frown.

Alessandro had already lifted his right foot when Marco barred his way before he could advance a single step.

''Don't listen to him!'' he exclaimed agitatedly, turning to the boys, ''he is not feeling well today.''

"Instead, I'm perfectly fine!" replied Alessandro, preparing to move him.

Marco slipped away just in time to avoid her grasp.

''No, he didn't!" she insisted, pointing her finger at him. He turned back in the direction of the group of boys. ''Excuse him, his grandmother died.''

Alessandro opened his mouth wide in indignation, and that simple gesture was enough to make the whole group burst out laughing, which then resumed moving forward in the direction of the entrance.

Foaming with suppressed anger Alessandro turned toward Marco.

''What the...''

Without even looking at him, the friend walked past him and then went to kneel in front of the storm drain.

''Come on, help me get him back,'' she said addressing him with a nod.

Though with manifest reluctance, Alessandro took his place beside him on the sidewalk.

The space between the bars of the caddy was wide enough to catch a glimpse of the bed of soggy leaves at the bottom of the opening, but not wide enough to stick your whole hand in.

While clearly a feat with no chance of success, Marco tried to slip his fingers between the bars, yet failed to push past his knuckles. Though only a span away, the bracelet remained in place, glistening unreachably at the bottom.

''I can't fit,'' he confessed bitterly, retracting his hand. ''Can you?

In response, Alessandro raised his right hand, which was about a third larger than his own, and shot him an eloquent look. It was all too obvious that this had been an excuse to distract him.

''What the hell are you thinking?" blurted out Marco in a low voice. ''There were five of them. Since you were beaten up have you developed a suicidal urge?''

''I'm so sorry I tried to help you,'' Alessandro replied in annoyance.

''Getting your face smashed would not give me back the bracelet,'' Marco retorted dryly.

Alessandro's brow furrowed.

''Then help yourself.''

He sprang to his feet, and after contracting the muscles of his face into a disgusted expression, he spat the huge pile of spent butts onto the sidewalk.

''You were right, these tires suck.'' And without adding anything else he crossed the courtyard entrance leaving behind Marco, who remained on his knees on the asphalt and watched him walk away confused.

***

''Reform?" asked Alessandro thoughtlessly.

''Yes,'' repeated Cominetti patiently, ''what is the most important reform enacted by Napoleon in Italy.''

''The...''

''Change article,'' she corrected him.

''The...''

Sensing that he would not be able to finish the sentence on his own, the professor decided to come to his rescue.

''Cod...''

''...he says,'' Alessandro concluded. ''Code.''

For more than five seconds no one said anything. Alessandro remained motionless in front of the blackboard staring at the floor, while Cominetti merely waited for him to continue, remaining seated behind the desk.

Finally, when she realized that she would say no more, the professor intervened, breaking the silence.

''I'm sorry, but this is not the end of the name''

Alessandro closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. His mind was a jumbled tangle of information from which he was desperately trying to extract a single strand, hidden among thousands of other near-twins.

''Civil Code,'' he said at the end of a titanic effort. ''He launched the Civil Code.''

''Yes, that's right,'' Cominetti confirmed. ''And why is that important?

"The Civil Code?" repeated Alessandro bewilderedly.

''We're talking about that.''

''By laws,'' Alessandro replied vaguely.

''What specifically?" the Cominetti pressed him. ''What principles are you inspired by?

''Um...''

''Never mind,'' she cut it short. ''Rather tell me, what was the event of fundamental importance to European history that occurred in the first decades of the 19th century that would lead to the birth of a new system of international relations?''

He raised his index finger, as if to make a point.

''I'll give you a hint, it's indirectly about Napoleon.''

''Waterloo,'' Alessandro replied in a rush.

''I said indirectly,'' the calm Cominetti reminded him.

''Exile to St. Helena,'' Alessandro thoughtlessly retorted.

Cominetti stared at him, tilting her head to the side.

''Alessandro, are you listening to me?" she asked piqued. ''I said indirectly, and into exile he went.''

Images of plates overflowing with delicacies and lavish banquets returned to cloud his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly.

''The...'' he mumbled uncertainly.

For the umpteenth time, the professor came to her aid.

''Congre...''

''Congress''

"Of?

''Berlin''

Cominetti sighed. She looked disappointed.

''Of Vienna,'' she corrected him in a bitter tone. ''Do you even remember the date?''

''1915,'' Alessandro replied, as mirages of set tables and sumptuous buffets flashed before his eyes.

''In the middle of World War I,'' commented Cominetti sarcastically. ''Of course they took their time.''

The whole class burst out laughing, but Alessandro paid no attention. His mind was elsewhere.

Cominetti closed the textbook she kept open on the desk with a sharp jerk, thus revealing the title, The Story Under the Lens, which stood out in the center of the cover. At that point she intertwined her fingers over it

''Alessandro, what's the matter with you, haven't you studied?''

''I didn't have time,'' he replied, without meeting the teacher's eyes.

''It's been a long time since you were extracted,'' Cominetti pointed out to him. ''Really, you haven't found even a snippet of time after more than a month?''

In fact, he had studied plenty. The problem was that he couldn't remember a damn thing!

Of course, it would have been much easier if every neuron in his brain had not been busy nagging him, reminding him how hungry he was. By now the situation had reached such a point that it was virtually impossible for him to lay eyes on anything without the subject of food coming up.

Despite the gulf between the two, Cominetti's short blond hair was beginning to resemble a plate of fettuccine.

''I was busy,'' he said vaguely.

''Everyone chooses their own priorities,'' Cominetti conceded patiently, as she retrieved the register she kept on the opposite side of the desk. ''But if I were you, I would reevaluate mine.''

He had not yet begun to write the date in the box for the day's questions when Alessandro curved his lips into a tugged smile. That advice, which tasted all too much like a reproach, did not please him at all.

"Why?" he asked in a forcibly conciliatory tone.

Cominetti pushed the pen tip away from the register and turned to look at him.

''Because history is one of the subjects in which you always did very well,'' she explained placidly, ''and it would be a real shame to have to ruin such a good average just because of laziness.''

''I am not lazy,'' Alessandro retorted, continuing to flash that phony smile.

''So let's say that on this occasion you proved differently diligent,'' Cominetti commented, returning to writing in the ledger.

''Who gives a shit,'' whispered Alessandro acerbically.

Her desk being the one closest to the desk, Giulia, a girl with glasses and long curly hair, winced in her chair in astonishment. As for Cominetti, the professor's gaze returned to converge on Alessandro, as readily as a hawk at the sight of prey.

"What did you say?" she asked him in shock.

Realizing that he had bitten off more than he could chew, Alessandro broke eye contact by staring at the floor.

''Nothing,'' he replied dryly.

Letting go of the pen, Cominetti leaned back from her desk just enough to be heard by him, though speaking in a low voice.

''Just because it's you I'll pretend I didn't hear,'' she whispered coldly, ''but know that this is the first and last time.'' She turned a nod in the direction of the rows of desks. ''Now go and sit down.''

With clenched lips and fists Alessandro started to his seat, while meanwhile Cominetti resumed writing in the register.

''Olivieri,'' he recited aloud. ''Four.''

Alessandro's jaw contracted in a mute snarl.

***

Striving to ignore the glances some students occasionally cast in their direction, Marco leaned forward so as to address his friend sitting on the opposite side of the table.

''First you almost get into a fight over a push, and now you completely touch off a history question.''

He shook his head in disbelief.

''You are not well,'' he said resolutely. ''Are you sure you weren't hit in the head by those three?''

Without ceasing to binge on tuna pasta, Alessandro grunted something unintelligible, which should have been his response, but except for a shrug, he added nothing more.

''And then, what the hell did you say to Cominetti?" continued Marco, not at all satisfied with that explanation. ''She made a face as if I had blasphemed.''

Swallowing the last forkful of pasta Alessandro pointed to Marco's plate, which unlike his own was still three-quarters full, and completely ignoring the question, asked, ''Are you eating that?''

Clearly disappointed that he had been so blatantly ignored, Marco brought the plastic plate closer to him, and just to be on the safe side, he girded its top edge with his hand.

''Yes,'' he replied dryly.

Looking away from him, Alessandro grabbed his own accompanying sandwich, then scrabbled with the remaining gravy on his plate.

"Speaking of which, why do you binge like a castaway after a month of fasting?" asked Marco.

''I'm just hungry,'' Alessandro cut short, stuffing a piece of red-dyed bread into his mouth.

''I can see that,'' Marco confirmed, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and revulsion, ''but maybe you should calm down.''

''And maybe you should shut up,'' Alessandro retorted, zapping him with a glare.

Caught off guard Marco twisted his mouth into an offended expression, but by that time Alessandro had already gone back to focusing on the sandwich, and since he had now cleared his plate, he set about eating it by taking a direct bite.

Whether because he was aware that there was no point in insisting on investigating, or because he was too angry to try, Marco resumed eating in silence, and did not speak to him again for the duration of the meal. In the meantime, just as he had already done with the pasta, Alessandro also brushed off the fish sticks from the second course, and of course the dessert pudding.

At that point, although he had finished well in advance of his friend, and although he had already taken care to clean the plates even from the smallest crumb of bread or stain of gravy, Alessandro did not get up immediately. Instead, as the hall gradually emptied, he remained seated where he was, observing from his own privileged position placed next to the trolleys of the cafeteria workers, whether by chance any student had been so magnanimous as not to have emptied the tray completely.

Cursing the gluttony of others, he waited in vain for some half-full plate or unopened jarred pudding to come his way, but as much as he had hoped otherwise, the long-awaited opportunity never came.

Meanwhile, the cafeteria continued to empty.

At one point he saw Alice coming out with her friends addressing him in greeting, however, not even then did she dare to move. Only Marco persisted in remaining seated at the table with him, pretending to be interested in the list of ingredients imprinted on the pudding package.

Even with some awkwardness, that absurd situation of silent coexistence continued without too much difficulty, at least until they were virtually the only ones who had not left the room.

It was then that Marco decided he had had enough, and finally found the courage to speak up.

''Okay, now this is starting to get a little weird,'' he said testily. ''I mean, are you waiting for someone, or...''

''Hey!'' exclaimed Alessandro snapping to his feet. ''Wait a minute!''

Marco jerked in surprise, but his friend ignored him completely to go toward a third girl, who was coming over with her own tray in her hands.

"What is it?" she asked him worriedly, as soon as she found Alessandro standing in her way.

"Are you done with that?" he asked, pointing to the plate still full of fish sticks.

The girl seemed to calm down.

''Yeah, I don't really go for the...but hey!''

Without even waiting for her to finish her sentence Alessandro snatched her plate from atop the tray, and began shoving the fish sticks into her mouth with feral voracity. She was still sucking on her greasy fingers when Marco stood in front of him, and after giving him a dirty look, he asserted a pat on her shoulder.

''What on earth is wrong with you?!" he blurted out indignantly. ''You are acting like a madman!''

As the girl passed them to go and tuck her own tray among the others, Alessandro prepared to retort, but a mocking voice behind him forced him to desist.

''Or maybe his people are so beggarly that they have stopped feeding him.''

Alessandro and Marco turned just in time to see Andrea, leaning against the doorframe of one of the front doors, as he concluded his sentence with a, ''God, how pathetic.''

Marco tried to shoot his friend a pleading look, which, however, failed to have any effect. Throwing the plastic plate he was still holding onto the table, Alessandro began to advance with slow, measured steps toward Andrea.

Having finished stowing her tray, the third-grader left the now nearly deserted room just as the two had caught up with him.

Compared to Giovanni he boasted a decidedly more massive stature, and was also more muscular, but despite this the height gap separating him from Alessandro still exceeded a good span. In any case, Andrea did not seem at all intimidated, on the contrary.

Confronted with the hostile glance his rival shot him, he merely dislodged his shoulder from the doorframe, while a contemptuous smile spread across his face.

''What is it?" he asked disdainfully. ''Do you think perhaps you...''

With a lightning snap, Alessandro's hand tightened around Andrea's throat, cutting off his breath. At that point he lifted him off the ground.

With his feet dangling and his face pained, the boy flailed in panic as he desperately tried to free himself from that terrifying grip.

"Alex, what are you doing?!" blurted out Marco in horror.

Alessandro did not hear him, however, and without loosening his grip on his victim's neck, he pulled her closer to him until he was only inches away from her bruised face.

''Get lost shit, or I'll gut you,'' he growled sourly.

Throwing it on the floor as carelessly as he would a worn-out backpack, Alessandro then left the cafeteria, leaving both Andrea and Marco behind. The former gasping on the floor, and the latter petrified before the threshold, too upset to go after him.