Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Her face falls dramatically. “Oh, no. Why not?”
“My Italian instructor is leading a trip to Italy. A small group of us is going.” I’m ashamed at how easily I stretch the truth, not technically lying, but purposely misleading her, which is just as bad.
“That’s too bad.” When I frown, she changes course. “I mean, I’m very excited you’ll be seeing Italy – your grandparents sure did enjoy it – but – I wasn’t going to mention this – but Steve Hopkins was hoping to see you when you were home. I think he was going to ask you out.”
Steve was a star basketball player who was also on the yearbook staff with me. He always said he planned to work at his dad’s tractor supply company, so I’m not surprised he stayed in town after graduation.
We never dated, but he was always funny and nice. A few months ago, I’d have been very excited about the prospect of a date with him. He’d be just the type to settle down with, have a house with a picket fence and a couple of kids running around. Everything I’ve ever wanted.
But now, even if we weren’t going to Italy? Even if my spring break was just going to be spent sitting on the Bestias’ couch and watching Netflix with the two of them? I’d choose the Bestias every time.
I fill Mom in on the rough itinerary for my trip, letting her believe I’ll be staying at hotels instead of being a guest at the Bestias’. I don’t mention Fiero, or even name Matteo, referring to him only as my professor.
“I hope you have a wonderful time, Dani. Take a lot of pictures! I’ll tell Steve he’ll just have to wait until you move home in a couple of months.”
My feelings about the trip veer from eager anticipation to anxiety about all the ways things might go wrong. It doesn’t help when my sister Izzy, alerted by our mom to the fact that I’m not coming home, calls to grill me. Finally, I swear her to secrecy and admit that there’s a man in the picture, but even with Izzy I’m afraid to tell her there are two of them.
In what seems like no time at all, departure day comes, and the three of us are at the airport waiting for our first flight, which will take us to New York. Other students are flying out on spring break too, so I try to keep my distance from Matteo as much as possible as we wait in lines and sit at our gate, and hope no one notices us.
In New York, we change planes for an overnight flight to Rome on an Italian airline. I’m surprised when we board in the first group and make our way to first-class seats in the front.
“Wow, there’s so much space!” I can’t even try to play it cool, having only ever flown in coach. With Matteo being a professor and Fiero an artist, I’d assumed they both earned modest incomes, but I’d never given it much thought. These tickets must have cost quite a bit.
The seats are arranged in pairs, and after a few moments of quiet argument with his brother, Matteo ends up next to me. Not long after takeoff, we’re served dinner, which, to my amazement, turns out to be a five-course meal, with an appetizer, pasta, and a fish entree, followed by a small salad, and then a plate of cheese, fruit and tiny cookies for dessert. All of it is, of course, accompanied by wine.
My eyes are wide as the food keeps coming. “Is this how you eat in Italy?”
Matteo simply chuckles and offers me a bite of blue cheese from his plate, though I have to refuse it because I’m thoroughly stuffed.
After we eat, he urges me to rest because we’ll be losing hours as we cross time zones, and it will be morning when we land in Rome. I thought I’d be too excited, but after the big meal, I am feeling sleepy.
He shows me how to recline my seat until it’s flat like a bed, turns on a gentle built-in vibrating function, rubs my back … and the next thing I know, I’m waking up to a much brighter cabin. There’s still a hand rubbing my back, making me very confused about the passage of time.
“Time to wake up, bella.” It’s Fiero next to me now, his hair sexily disheveled and a dark growth of stubble shading his face. “They’re serving breakfast.”
I can’t believe they’re serving more food. I’m pretty sure I dreamed about food during the few hours I was asleep.
Luckily, breakfast turns out to only be a roll, a pastry, and a small bowl of fruit. I pick at the food but take long draws on the strong coffee, hoping it gives me energy.