by R.S. Grey
“We’re going out Friday.”
My body jerks like I’ve been stabbed in the gut, and I lean forward to push off my knees and stand. The time-out is officially over. What peace I had has been snuffed out.
“I can see it now,” I start with a sarcastic tone. “Gabriella and Noah take Rome: an Instagram series. She’s perfect for you.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I should have asked her out the second we got here.”
I turn and face him, my eyes alight with a brilliant idea. “You know what? We should go on a double date. You and Gabriella, me and Lorenzo.”
He mimes his head exploding and it’s clear he intends to call my bluff. “Absolutely. Saturday? We’ll have to see if Ashley will mind hanging back to chaperone for everyone.”
I wave away his concern. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. The security guard will be here too and we won’t stray far. There are plenty of restaurants right on this street even.”
My words are perfectly pleasant, but my tone screams at him to end this game.
It’s pure lunacy.
I can’t sit across from Noah through an entire dinner and behave myself. We’ll be at each other’s throats with butter knives before the appetizers make it to the table. There will be blood.
He stands and walks over, not stopping until we’re toe to toe. His brown eyes taunt me.
I hold my ground and tip my head back to look up at him. He leans down and my breath arrests in my chest. I’ve never stood like this in front of someone and not had them dip down for a kiss. My hands clench at my sides. My heart is doing its own little panic attack.
I wet my bottom lip, but I swear it’s only out of habit. Still, Noah brims over with delight.
“Looking forward to it, Cohen.” Then he curves around me and brushes my shoulder with his, leaving me reeling.
As the week goes on, I start to settle into daily life here in Rome. I enjoy having time to myself in the mornings while the kids are in Latin class, I eat most meals in the dining hall, and excursions around town in the afternoon are always interesting. On my own Wednesday morning, I find a delightful little bookstore with an orange tabby cat curled up and sleeping in the window. After browsing the aisles for a bit, I unload my precarious stack of books onto the counter and notice the display of jigsaw puzzles nearby, each one a different Roman site. On a whim, I grab one showcasing the Colosseum, and once I’m back at the school, I set it up on a big round table in the common room between the kids’ hallway and ours. I expect to have to do the whole thing myself, but eventually I tempt a few Lindale kids to join me Wednesday evening.
“But what’s the point?” Millie asks. “Why’s this fun? What’s the incentive?”
“Like is this supposed to be ironic or something?” Kylie asks.
“Just sit there and start puzzling. You’ll see.”
And they do. Before long, I have three of them working on it with me.
Thursday morning, when I return to the puzzle to work on it for a few minutes while the kids are in Latin, I find a huge swath of blue sky pieced together. When Noah strolls by the table a bit later on his way to his room, I swear he’s wearing a proud little smirk.
Lorenzo finds me there near lunch time on Thursday morning. He was going to meet friends, he tells me, but he cancels on them and decides to stay and hang out with me. It’s a sweet gesture and I enjoy his company. It’s easy to sit with him. He’s an open book, talkative and happy. He tells me about his friends, all the trouble they got into when they were younger. We talk more about his family and I tell him about mine. He can’t wrap his head around how it’s only the three of us—my dad, my mom, and me.
“I have so many uncles and aunts I don’t know what to do with them all. You should see all of my cousins together on holidays. We barely fit into the house.”
I smile. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
He nods and leans back. He’s not doing the puzzle. His feet are propped up on the table. His fingers are laced behind his head.
“So…when are you going to let me take you out again?” he asks, not the least bit nervous in his delivery.
I, of course, know the answer already. He’ll take me out again on Saturday, when we all go on a double date. I just…haven’t mentioned it to him yet.
I know Noah’s already asked Gabriella about it because I watched him do it yesterday during our group excursion in the afternoon. We were all spread out on the lawn in one of Rome’s public gardens. The kids were sprawled out on picnic blankets under trees, reading or drawing or talking or kicking around a soccer ball. I was people-watching mostly, basking in the whisper of a breeze that came every now and then. Lorenzo found me and presented me with a rosebud that had fallen off of a bush and was wilting on the ground. He said, “A rose for my rose,” or something equally cheesy. I felt strange accepting it, like I needed to tell him right then and there that we should pump the brakes.
Noah saw the exchange. He was only one blanket away, leaning back on his elbows, talking to Ashley and Gabriella. I felt his eyes on me as I smiled and thanked Lorenzo. A moment later, Lorenzo drifted off to check in on everyone and make sure they were enjoying themselves.
After he’d gone, that’s when Noah told Gabriella about the double date—just flat-out asked her about it in front of Ashley and me. I thought it was a little presumptuous of him to ask her on a second date before they’d even gone on their first one. If she felt the same, she didn’t show it. Her face lit up, in fact.
“That sounds really fun! Ashley, you don’t mind staying back, do you? I promise I’ll repay you!”
So here I am, in a position I should be incredibly happy with. Lorenzo is exactly the type of guy I want to be pursued by, and he’s making his intentions known. I really have no choice but to proceed forward.
When I tell him about the double date idea, he looks incredulous to say the least.
“Noah agreed to that?” He laughs.
“Yeah, I mean…I know you two have had kind of a weird start, but that’s mostly my fault. I think he’s projecting his hatred for me onto you.”
“Right. Or he’s jealous.”
He presents that possibility so plainly it almost flies under my radar. Jealous? Not in a million trillion years.
“Right. But hey, if he’s game, I’m game. Are you hungry?” He stands. “I want to head down to eat. I’m starving.”
“Oh sure, yeah. Latin class is about to let out anyway.”
I walk down with him and we run into Noah on the stairs.
“Hey man, heard about the double date, should be a lot of fun.”
Noah’s gaze could slice Lorenzo in two. His response is a curt “Yeah.”
Friday night, I’m in my room with the door propped open.
Noah’s out with Gabriella, gorging himself on pizza and beer. They’ll likely be back any minute now, but that’s not why my door is open. I just finished painting my nails and the fumes were getting to me. I needed to air the place out. The fact that I’ll know exactly when Noah returns home from his date is just an added bonus.
In fact, here they come, two pairs of footsteps out in the hall. Conversation trickling through my open door.
I swivel my chair and contort my spine so I can lean just a little bit closer to the hallway.
“—had a great time” is what Gabriella is telling Noah when they finally make it into earshot.
A second later, they appear right outside Noah’s door.
Panicked that they’ll notice me staring, I turn my attention down to my phone and pretend I don’t even realize they’re there. Scroll scroll scroll.
“Same here,” Noah agrees. “Best pizza I’ve ever had.”
Unable to help myself, my gaze slips away from my phone and I peer up at them out of the corner of my eye.
“I don’t think I stopped laughing the whole night,” she says, leaning forward to grab his arm. “You’re like the funniest person I know.”
Oh please. Has this girl not hear
d of Dave Chappelle? Amy Schumer? The “Charlie Bit My Finger” kid?
“To be fair, the beer probably tipped the scales in my favor.”
At this, she dies laughing.
Barf.
They wrap it up, albeit not as quickly as I would like because Gabriella keeps coming up with one last thing to say. They confirm the double date for tomorrow night, which is apparently really going to happen. Lorenzo is excited about it and Ashley is on board with chaperoning the kids, so now there’s no backing out.
Gabriella turns to head down to her room and finally spots me through my open door. Her smile is friendly when she gives me a little wave.
“Hey, Audrey!”
I wave back then she disappears, leaving Noah and me to face off.
He tips his head to the side. I lean back in my chair and arch an eyebrow.
He’s the one to make the first move, stepping into my room and holding out a little to-go box.
“Brought you back a slice.”
I smile, take it, open the box, and let the pizza slip right into my trashcan.
He unfurls a proud smile. I think he would have been disappointed had I actually accepted his gift.
“Busy night?” he asks, pointing toward my neatly arranged desk. There’s not a pencil out of place. My nail polish is already put away.
I hold up my nails to show him my work. Cherry red.
“I like it.”
“Then maybe I’ll change it.”
He props his butt on the edge of my desk and makes himself at home, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He’s too big for my small room. He crowds me. I’d roll my chair back, give myself some space, but I don’t want him to have the pleasure of seeing how he affects me.
He dressed up for the date. His white button-down makes him look mild-mannered. What a lie.
I make my way back up to his face, taking my sweet time, and find he’s studying me too.
“Is that her lipstick?” I ask, pointing.
He swipes at his cheek. “Pizza sauce. I’m a messy eater…I like to enjoy my food.”
Why that sends a shiver down my spine? Don’t ask.
“And yet there’s not a speck of sauce on your white shirt. Did the restaurant let you wear a bib?”
He pinches his eyes shut and looks down at the ground, collecting himself. Or, more likely, praying for the patience to deal with me.
I poke poke poke him with one of my pens until he looks at me again.
“Ready for tomorrow?” I ask.
“Can’t wait. Where are you taking me?”
I shrug. “Oh, I dunno. I’ll let Lorenzo decide. He’s so knowledgeable about that kind of thing. I’ve always wanted to date a worldly guy.”
“Jeff not traveled enough for you?”
I narrow my eyes, suspicious that he knows about my ex. “When did you meet Jeff?”
“He came up to the school a few times. Asked me once if we’d ever dated.”
“What?”
He can’t be serious.
“Yeah, he came into my classroom puffed up like a peacock, wanting to know our history.”
In what bizarre-o world would someone assume Noah and I have history?
“He never told me.”
Noah’s eyebrows jump like he’s surprised.
“Well…” I wave my hand for him to get on with it. When he doesn’t, I’m forced to ask, “What did you tell him?”
“There was nothing to tell. I couldn’t exactly tell the guy that you and I are at eternal odds. It’s not the sort of thing that’s easy to explain.”
“You’re my mortal enemy,” I say, like it’s commonplace. “What’s hard to explain about that?”
“Sure. But then people want details.”
“Details? Simple.” I might as well be reading the back of a cereal box. “It was hate at first sight. I annoy you and you annoy me. As long as we both shall live.”
I expect him to agree wholeheartedly, inflict some sort of horrific trauma (like kicking the lever of my chair so I sink down until I’m a foot off the ground), and then disappear like a phantom.
Instead, he seems to mull something over, bobbing his head left and right before leaning in like he’s about to tell me some juicy piece of gossip. He crooks his finger for me to get closer.
“I get it. Believe me.” His eyes narrow. “But do you ever…”
His curiosity dwindles into a cliffhanger that has me champing at the bit.
“Do I ever what?” I ask, impatiently.
Spit it out.
“No, it’s just. Have you ever thought…”
Eons pass.
He waves away his thought. “No. Never mind.”
I have half a mind to grab ahold of his shirt collar, tug until we’re nose to nose, and growl at him to finish what he’s saying.
Instead, I hold perfectly still like Noah’s a mustang I don’t want to spook. If I had a sugar cube, I’d feed it to him.
When he pushes off the desk and stands to leave, my heart sinks.
“Forget I said anything.”
Chapter Ten
I think the universe has it out for me.
I’m just over here minding my own business, and then—WHAM—I wake up the next morning to a barrage of reminders that I am a party of one and everyone else is in love and isn’t life just grand as long as you have your soulmate by your side?
It starts with the fact that today is my cute-ass parents’ 25th wedding anniversary.
My dad emails me the slideshow he made as a gift to my mom. It’s composed of photos and clips of them from over the years and he has “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys playing in the background. The melody stabs me in the heart and every picture is more adorable than the last. Their faces squashed together; smiles brimming over; dorky ’80s clothes; honeymoon beach pics; huddled close, cradling little baby me.
My dad tells me he’s made a reservation at their favorite steakhouse. He’s going to have two dozen red roses waiting for my mom at their table.
As if that’s not enough, next, I see a bunch of texts piled up from Kristen and Melissa. While I was sleeping, they were giving me updates on everyone back home. Apparently, a friend of ours got engaged. Oh, and another friend just got married. Did I see the picture of Jon dipping Sarah into a kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower? And isn’t Jessie the cutest pregnant person ever?
I’m shriveling into a bitter old shrew when I accidentally click a sob-worthy Soldier Coming Home video on Instagram and THAT IS ENOUGH.
I CAN ONLY TAKE SO MUCH.
I toss my phone to the bottom of my bed and roll onto my side, staring at my closed door.
Why am I alone? I wonder.
You spend every waking moment focusing your energy on hating Noah.
No, that can’t possibly be it.
I’ve just had bad luck.
Since Jeff, I’ve had exactly zero meet cutes with eligible men. All the elevators I step onto are in perfect working order. Every bakery I visit is owned by some middle-aged mom, not a hunk who quit his big-time attorney job to pursue his love of patisserie. I peruse the aisles at grocery stores and never accidentally reach for the same bunch of bananas as my high school crush who happens to be back home so he can take care of his ailing grandmother. I mean, where’s the justice in this world?
I push aside my blanket and force myself to get up and out of bed.
I can’t just mope around. I’ve got a full day of minding children followed by a torturous double date ahead of me. Could life be more exciting?!
It occurs to me that I could try to get out of going on the double date, but it’d be pretty tricky. I have so few excuses at my disposal. Nothing is going to come up out of the blue. I know exactly zero people in Rome. I’d have to feign illness, and Noah would see right through that.
Maybe an idea will come to me.
I skip breakfast in the dining hall on purpose. I don’t need to see Noah and Gabriella flaunting their new love, and we
irdly, I’m not all that eager to see Lorenzo again. I mean, I’ll see him in the afternoon and again tonight. That’s enough, right?
After I get ready for the day and check in with my students, I head out to find coffee and congratulate myself when I succeed in leaving the school without running into any of the other chaperones or Lorenzo. Being on my own on the streets of Rome is freeing. I spend my morning hunched over a little café table, annotating my copy of Where the Red Fern Grows. It’s an old favorite and I find comfort in visiting the familiar characters.
I love sitting alone, reading, and watching everyone come and go. I know you’re supposed to visit a foreign place so you can take yourself out of your comfort zone, see landmarks, and learn about history in a way you can’t at home, but one of my favorite things to do is go somewhere new and pretend I belong there. Being here in a café like this is both familiar and foreign at the same time. I’m experiencing a day in the life of a Roman.
I make my way back to the school slowly and have no plans to stop for lunch until I pass a delicious savory smell that stops me in my tracks. After waiting in line for twenty minutes, I walk out of a bakery shop with a fresh-out-of-the-oven slice of focaccia bread that’s overladen with tomatoes and rosemary. I pair it with mozzarella cheese and an ice-cold San Pellegrino and eat it all leaning against the wall across the street from Basilica Sant'Andrea al Quirinale. The oval-shaped Baroque church was designed by none other than Bernini. People dip inside for guided tours, but I stand out in the shade and read about the church’s history on my phone, happy for the quiet.
My morning is a far cry from the insanity of my afternoon. My solitude is shattered when Lorenzo leads our group to the Roman Forum—a large excavated area of temples, squares, and government buildings dating back over 2,000 years. There’s a lot of ruins still intact and it’s all very interesting, but the site is also completely exposed to the elements and the blazing afternoon sun is trying to show off. Hot enough for you down there?! Every single tourist (us included) is sweating and panting and ripening into a bright red tomato. I wince when a guy in a tank top walks by with what have to be third-degree burns on his shoulders. He’s going to be in a world of hurt later. Fortunately, I applied sunscreen before we left the school and made sure the kids all lathered up too, ignoring their moaning and groaning about it.
