Getting the Boot (10 page)

Kelly had spent all of Saturday morning crying. She was so distraught that even Lisa took pity on her, bringing a completely nonvegan breakfast up to the room for her.

Grandma's locket was gone. Kelly had promised her mother she'd never take it off, and she hadn't—she'd worn it the night before when she went clubbing.

Kelly hadn't noticed that it was missing until morning. The first thing she had done was run out into the common room, where she had quietly undressed at the crack of dawn so as not to disturb Sheela. She searched the bathroom, the stairwells, even the driveway, praying it would turn up. The thought of telling her parents it was gone made Kelly sick.

Even though she was still angry, Sheela tried to come in and talk to her. But Kelly was in no mood for reconciliation and she couldn't bear to be comforted. How could she have been so careless?

There was a quiet tap at her door. “Go away, Sheela!”

“It's not Sheela, it's me.” Joe stepped in and sat down on her bed. “I hear you're having a tough day.” He massaged her shoulders and she felt herself starting to relax a little.

“I really screwed up this time. I can't believe I lost the locket. My mother will never forgive me—it was my grandmother's most prized possession.” A tear slid down Kelly's cheek. “I should just go home and face my punishment.”

“I won't let you go home. You're the smartest and prettiest girl in the building. Except for Signora Peretti, maybe.”

Despite herself, Kelly laughed.

“Sitting here crying all day isn't gonna bring your necklace back.” Joe brushed a tear off her cheek. “Come downstairs and have some dinner with me. You probably haven't eaten anything today, right? After that, I'm going to take you out and I absolutely guarantee you that we'll have a good time.”

Kelly shook her head. “You go without me. I'm not hungry.”

“Are you sure?”

Kelly nodded.

“All right.” Joe stood up. “After I get back from dinner, you're all mine.”

 

 

Kelly and Joe went to a new place in Ostiense. The club had an ultrachic, exotic vibe, with dim lighting and swags of bright, embroidered fabric covering the walls and ceilings. Little tentlike alcoves stuffed with mirrored pillows circled the dance floor and the scent of incense hung in the air. Kelly couldn't help but cheer up as she and Joe made their grand entrance, hand in hand.

As they pressed their way through the crowd, Joe waved to someone sitting in a corner booth. It was Rodney, Joe's roommate, with a girl Kelly had never seen before. “This place is hot, man! I can't believe we didn't come here sooner,” Rodney said. “This is Laura.” The cute, dark-haired girl with him smiled nervously. Apparently she didn't speak much English.

“Who wants a drink?” Rod asked.

“I've been thinking all day about how to make Kelly forget her troubles and have some fun,” Joe said, giving Rodney a meaningful look. “Excuse us a minute, ladies, we'll be back in no time.”

Both guys took off, leaving Kelly with Laura. She seemed sweet, but she was as nervous speaking English as Kelly was speaking Italian. Finally, Kelly decided to try the universal language—fashion. Using elaborate hand gestures, she managed to compliment Laura on her dress. The girls were conversing in an animated combination of English, Italian, and mime when the boys returned.

“This is the house specialty,” Joe said, handing her a stemmed glass. “Blood-orange juice and
prosecco
.” Kelly took a sip. It was much better than Campari; it tasted like champagne and orange juice to her, but it was a beautiful pink color. A few sips later, she found herself laughing and loosening up. Laura seemed to like it, too; she drained her glass in record time and asked Rodney to get her another.

Kelly wasn't even halfway through her own drink before she started feeling strange. The lights seemed to dim, and her head was pounding. She looked over at Laura, who had a bewildered look on her face.

Kelly had a sudden, overwhelming urge to lie down in the pile of pillows and nap. Joe and Rodney were still on their feet, swaying to the house music blasting through the room. But behind her, Laura had curled up on the ban quette, moaning quietly as if she were in pain. Even in her groggy state, Kelly could tell that Laura was in far worse shape than she was. She reached out and rubbed the girl's back comfortingly.

What was going on?

Finally it dawned on her. Laying both hands on the table in front of her, Kelly worked her way to a standing position. She grabbed Joe by the front of his shirt and screamed in his ear.

“You bastard! What did you put in the drinks?” She pounded his chest with her fists. Her voice sounded funny in her ears.

“Relax, babe, relax. It was just something to take you out of yourself for a while. I only gave you each a little bit. It'll wear off soon. Just chill.” He squinted past her at Laura, then turned to Rodney.

“Yo, Rod! We've got to get your girl out of here. She's not looking too good.” Joe's own face looked gray, and his shirt was wet with sweat. Rodney was still grooving, his eyes shut, completely oblivious to what was going on.

“Listen, Kelly. We've got to take Laura home.” He gently pushed her back into her seat. “Sit tight and I'll come back for you.” He bent down and hoisted Laura onto her feet. She groaned, but put her arm around his shoulder. Rodney, who had finally gotten a clue, took the other side, and the three of them stumbled off into the crowd.

Kelly sat for what seemed like hours, her head in her hands. She was desperately thirsty, and somehow managed to get someone to bring her a big glass of water. A couple of times, men came over to her and said things she didn't understand. “Don't touch me!” she shrieked, and they retreated. She had to get out of there. She picked her way back through the crowd until she found the door.

“Taxi, per favore. Emergencia.”
She wasn't sure what was the right word. But the bouncer seemed to know what she meant and flipped open his cell phone. She counted every second until a little white car pulled up in front and the bouncer helped her in.

Kelly opened the windows all the way. The cabbie's driving, which verged on homicidal, was making her nauseous. When they arrived at the school gates, he peeled off without even waiting for her to get inside safely.

Kelly stood alone on the gravel driveway, shaking and struggling to catch her breath. Her limbs felt like overcooked linguini. The front door was locked; she was dressed to the teeth, exhausted and disheveled. She looked at her tiny evening purse in despair. Why hadn't she carried a bag big enough to hold her cell phone? If she could only reach her, Kelly was pretty sure Sheela would come down to let her in. She'd be furious, but what else was new? The nearest pay phone was several blocks away, on a dark, deserted street; Kelly didn't feel like taking any more risks tonight.

A strange feeling of calm came over her. This was it. It was over. She would be sent home. Sheela could have the perfect summer she deserved, once Kelly was out of the way. Suddenly she understood why Andrea had kept her apart from Joe the morning of the Vatican trip; it was clear to everybody but Kelly that he was bad news.

Andrea.
Kelly wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders and walked around the side of the main building to the small annex of apartments where the instructors lived.

 

 

Andrea didn't say a word when she answered the door; she just looked Kelly up and down, from her smudged face to her strappy, metallic sandals, then led her to the couch.

“Are you okay?” Andrea sat cross-legged next to her, watching her closely. “Are you hurt?”

Kelly shook her head. “I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I didn't know what else to do.”

“It's all right. Part of my job is to be here when you guys need me. And I have a front-door key, so unless you wanted to sleep out on the steps, it was a good idea to knock. You know that you missed curfew by more than an hour, right?”

Kelly nodded, blushing. “I had a really horrible day. A few friends took me dancing to try and cheer me up, but we got separated. I spent a long time trying to find them, until I realized that it was almost one. So I called a cab and came back by myself.” She looked down at the rug. “My Italian sucks, so I got pretty scared. I guess I just panicked.”

Kelly was certain that Andrea had never, ever done anything so stupid in her entire life. Even without makeup, she looked glamorous and put-together.

Andrea watched her face closely. “That's a believable story, but I don't entirely buy it. When you knocked on my door, you looked absolutely terrified. Are you sure there's nothing else you want to tell me about tonight? Maybe who you were with?”

“I'd rather not, if that's okay.”

“Well, I can't force you to. Though Marco is pretty sure he saw you at a club last week with Joe Leahy.”

Kelly stared down at the rug, saying nothing.

Andrea paused carefully. “Were you drinking?”

“I only had about half a drink. Something pink and fizzy. It made me feel kind of sick, so I didn't finish it.” Always answer the question honestly, but don't offer any extra information. That's what her father always said.

“Listen, Kelly, being here is a big adjustment for a girl your age. Having so much freedom can make somebody a little crazy if they're not used to it, and sometimes it's pretty easy to forget the rules.” She gazed at Kelly with clear gray eyes. “I know you've been having a tough time concentrating recently. Does whatever upset you earlier relate to that?”

Kelly looked down at the twisted tissue in her hands. “No, nothing like that. This was something brand-new, and like everything else, it was all my fault. I understand why everybody here hates me.” She swallowed the sob that was rising in her chest; the last thing she wanted was for Andrea to see her cry.

“Look, recognizing that you need to be more responsible is an important first step to changing things for the better. As for everyone hating you, I know that's not true. Possibly you've gotten off on the wrong foot with a few people, but I don't think all is lost. You're a strong and determined person, Kelly. If you apply those traits to improving your behavior, I'm sure you'll feel happier here.”

Andrea stood up and stretched. “It's almost three. Let's get you back to your room. You must be exhausted. Tomorrow, we'll talk this all over with Dr. Wainwright. I don't know what the penalty will be for breaking curfew, but if you tell him what happened honestly, I'm sure he'll be fair and sympathetic.”

It was strange climbing the broad staircase so late at night with no danger of being caught. Kelly quietly took off her heels in the hall, her habit since the night she'd woken up her suite mates, and undressed in the common room so as not to disturb Sheela. The space between her collar-bones, where the locket normally sat, felt bare and strange. Kelly slipped into bed and lay in the dark, reliving the day's events and wondering what the morning would bring. Whatever punishment she received, it couldn't be any worse than what she had already been through.

 

 

Kelly slept until close to noon. She woke up feeling nauseous and headachy, but strangely ravenous. After a long, tepid bath, she dragged herself down to the cafeteria, where she talked Signora Peretti into making her some
pastina en brodo
, Italian chicken noodle soup. She ate quickly, wanting desperately to get out of there before Joe showed up. She had no idea how she'd react when their paths crossed.

Why on earth hadn't she told Andrea the truth? She owed Joe and Rodney absolutely nothing, and yet she had protected them. Old habits die hard, she supposed; admitting to mistakes was never one of Kelly's great strengths. She ran over the list of conditions her father had drafted before she came to Italy. She had signed her name on the dotted line, gone to Italy, and blown several of them in just over a month. Even by her own rather creative standards, Kelly was failing miserably.

Joe had turned out to be such a disappointment. And yet they'd had so much fun together. Their first kiss, sunny afternoons spent exploring the city, evenings in the lounge playing video games or listening to music. She remembered the way it felt all the times Joe held her close as they danced into the small hours.

“I'm going to show you the best time you've ever had when you visit me in Cali,” Joe had promised. “I swear; you've never been anywhere more beautiful. We'll spend every day on the beach, party with my friends every night. Watching the sun set over the ocean from my dad's deck in Malibu is the third-best thing in the world.” She could almost feel his stubbly chin nuzzling her cheek as he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Surfing and you are first and second.”

What a load of crap. It was time for Kelly to face what she had been denying for weeks: that Joe needed to get drunk or high almost every day. That he lied as easily as he breathed. And worst of all, that he didn't really care about her—he just wanted a partner in crime. Oh God. Wasn't that exactly what she had wanted, too?

Andrea appeared as Kelly was finishing her soup and looked her over in her usual thoughtful, appraising way. “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay, thanks. A little tired, I guess.” She forced a smile, but the corners of her mouth quivered. Ditching her bowl, she followed Andrea to the main level and down the hall to Dr. Wainwright's office.

 

 

The office looked exactly the way a professor's should: dark wood paneling, overstuffed floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and exotic-looking artifacts piled on every surface. Kelly perched on the worn leather couch facing the vast desk, waiting for the interrogation that was sure to end her summer in Italy.