Getting the Boot (4 page)

“The
neatest
, absolutely,” Kelly murmured under her breath.

She could feel Sheela's disapproving eyes on her. “Just because they're not fashion plates doesn't make them bad people,” she said. “Try to keep an open mind for once, will you?”

“I'll do my best,” Kelly answered lightly. Time to change the subject, quick. “Where do you suppose the AC is in here? I'm about to die from heat prostration.” She climbed onto her bed and put her hand over the little vented box attached to the ceiling. The faintest breeze was coming out of it. “Please tell me this isn't it.”

Sheela got up and waved her hand in front of the vent. “Could be. These old buildings weren't made for central air, and I've read that Europeans don't much like it, anyway.”

Kelly groaned. No air-conditioning, no elevator, no storage space. This place was a total scam. She jumped up and began rummaging through her backpack.

“What are you looking for?”

“This.” Kelly held up her Italian dictionary. “As soon as we can get out of here, we're buying the biggest, strongest
ventilatore
in Rome!”

 

 

After taking a few hours to unpack and rest, all twenty-six students assembled in the second-floor lounge for orientation. Kelly noted the big-screen TV and DVD player with satisfaction. And there were two big, comfy couches to stretch out on. She'd be spending a lot of time on those.

Dr. Wainwright walked in with three other adults, presumably teachers, and began his welcome spiel. Kelly wanted to pay attention, but she found herself scanning each member of the group instead.
Teeny roommate with tree-hugger roommate. Outdoorsy guy from the bus. Goth Girl—could be interesting, or really weird. Lots of kids Starr would describe as “bookish.” Hello—megacute blond guy.
Kelly made eye contact and smiled, and Cute Boy returned the gesture. Great smile and gorgeous teeth, too.

Dr. Wainwright was droning on, sounding suspiciously like her parents. “Violence doesn't happen here much, but you want to keep your wits about you, and be very careful with your wallets and purses. There are a lot of pickpock ets and purse snatchers in this city, so you're best off carrying only copies of important papers. If you can get along without carrying a bag, that's ideal. Otherwise, wear it with the strap diagonally across your chest.”

Easy enough. Kelly glanced over at Cute Boy again. Was that a tattoo peeking out of his sleeve? She couldn't wait to ask him about it. And maybe give one of his biceps a squeeze for good measure.

“Ladies, it's also best if you explore the city in small groups rather than on your own, especially after dark. Unfortunately, some Roman men can be very forward with women, tourists in particular. I have no personal experience, of course,” Dr. Wainwright added, his eyes crinkling. “But I'm told the best way to cope is to make no eye contact and walk purposefully.”

He continued with a bunch of everyday stuff—Internet use, laundry, cell-phone rentals—plus house rules and curfew time, which was eleven o'clock weeknights (or twenty-three hours, as they put it in Europe) and 1 A.M. weekends. Not too bad.

Then it was time to meet the resident staff members. While many of the program instructors lived off campus, a few, along with Dr. Wainwright and Signor and Signora Peretti, the janitor and the cook, lived in a smaller building just behind the school. Kelly wondered whether their rooms had air-conditioning.

“This is my A-team,” Dr. Wainwright said. “They will accompany you on field trips both inside and outside Rome, and will be available, along with me, to provide you with any advice and assistance you need.”

Each person stepped forward modestly as Dr. Wainwright introduced them.

The first was Steve, a jovial, red-haired guy from Wisconsin who looked like a grown-up frat boy. He would be teaching classes in ancient history and archaeology. Out of the corner of her eye, Kelly could see Sheela nodding approvingly; archaeology was totally her thing.

Next up was Marco, the language instructor. He spoke English with a charming British-Italian accent, and he had really nice, shiny black hair. Too bad he was a teacher—a cute, smart Italian guy was exactly what Kelly was looking for. Maybe she'd hold off on the blond dude for a little while; it would be so much cooler to date a European.

The third person caught Kelly's attention immediately. This was the sort of chic, striking Italian woman Kelly wanted to emulate. She had large gray eyes, reddish-brown curls that tumbled just to her shoulders, and a warm smile. But her perfect posture and regal bearing also gave her the air of someone you didn't want to mess with. When she introduced herself as Andrea (pronounced the Italian way,
on-DRAY-uh
), Kelly was surprised to hear a plain old American accent. Andrea was finishing her Ph.D. in art history, and was teaching classes not only in that, but also in studio arts.
Now you're talking,
Kelly thought.
Sitting in a shady park, painting the pretty scenery, or sketching in some nice, cool air-conditioned gallery.

Dr. Wainwright stepped forward again. “We have many other teachers who live off campus, and guest instructors will come in frequently to give lectures and workshops on subjects ranging from cooking to architecture to Mussolini. Also, summer classes are open to students who attend this school during the year, so there will be around twenty other pupils in class every day. That will give you a nice opportunity to meet kids from all over the globe.” Hanging out with the jet set! Exactly what Kelly had in mind.

“That's it—intros over,” Dr. Wainwright finished. “Let's go get some of the best Italian food you've ever tasted!”

The entire group walked over to a restaurant in the neighborhood, where Dr. Wainwright had reserved a back room. Kelly quickly noticed a couple of empty spaces near Cute Boy. But first, she headed over to Sheela, who was waving at Kelly to join her and their suite mates.

“Thanks for saving me a spot,” Kelly said, “but there's someone at the other end of the table who requires my attention.”

Sheela shrugged. “I guess he's cute, if you like that type. But I thought you had your heart set on a native.”

“Just keeping my options open.” Kelly smiled and swung her hair over her shoulder. “
Buon appetito
.”

Kelly strode confidently toward Cute Boy, noting that his broad shoulders looked just as good from the back as they did from the front. “Mind if I sit here?”

C.B. shooed the guy next to him down a seat and patted the chair. “It's all yours. I'm Joe, and my roommate here is Rodney.” Rodney, an almost-as-hunky African-American guy, nodded absently, already deep into his first plate of pasta.

Kelly gestured toward the buffet table. “Back in Chicago, my favorite Italian food is deep-dish pizza. I don't know what half this stuff is.”

Joe flashed a smile. “I don't even care what it is, as long as it's pasta. Where I come from, carbo-loading is practically against the law.”

“And where is that?” Kelly asked.

“Southern Cal,” Joe replied. “Malibu. The surfing is great, but there's only so much sashimi and tofu one person can eat.”

Kelly wrinkled her nose. “I hate that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, and staying off it obviously hasn't done you any harm.” Joe grinned flirtatiously. “Ready to hit the buffet and break a few laws with me?”

“Bring it on,” Kelly answered, beaming back into his tan face.

Kelly filled her plate, inhaling the aroma of fresh basil and garlic. Cute boys, great food, and three months abroad. It couldn't get any better than this.

The first day of orientation, Marco took everybody on a tour of the Forum. Kelly and Sheela walked over the rutted cobblestones, looking at the ancient ruins in amazement. “This was the heart of ancient Roman society,” Marco told them. “In the Forum, Romans celebrated, worshiped, orated, and governed.”

“This is amazing,” Sheela whispered to Kelly as they walked past the court buildings and temples. “So much history happened here. I'll bet that's where Caesar's senators murdered him.” She pointed to a spot where several bouquets of flowers had been laid.

Kelly winced. “I'll tell you what's murder; walking around on these cobblestones.”

“And whose fault is that? Leave it to you to wear kitten heels to the Forum.”

Despite her achy feet, Kelly laughed. “I'm proud of you! You correctly used an actual fashion term!”

Sheela nodded modestly. “We nerds call it osmosis. After hanging around with you all these years, it was inevitable that something would sink in. Tell my friends at home and I'll kill you.”

“Hey, babe,” a voice behind Kelly said. An arm wrapped around her waist, and Kelly turned to find Joe.

“Shh.” Kelly put a finger to her lips jokingly. “We're supposed to be learning about the Forum.”

“Yeah, right,” said Joe, playing along. He leaned forward with a mock-serious expression, pretending to hang on Marco's every word.

“The Romans also shopped, ate, drank, hung out with their friends, and went to the health spa here,” Marco said. “This was probably the first mall in the world.”

“Where's the food court?” Joe called out, giving Kelly a companionable elbow in the ribs. She cracked up, noticing from the corner of her eye that Sheela's expression had turned to stone.

Marco seemed equally unamused, so Joe continued his satirical running commentary in a whisper. But even at that level, Kelly could tell that Sheela was getting exasperated.

“I'm going to catch up with Minnie,” Sheela whispered abruptly. She worked her way to the other side of the group before Kelly could answer.

“What's with her?” Joe asked, watching her take off.

“Sheela's really into history, that's all. She takes this pretty seriously.”

“Good thing we don't have that problem, huh?”

Kelly smiled mischievously. “Yes, a very good thing.” This place was interesting, but after a while Marco's stories all started to sound the same. And the broiling sun wasn't helping Kelly concentrate any more than Joe's wisecracks.

After what seemed like hours, the group left the Forum and made the short walk to the Colosseum.

“This was the giant sports arena of ancient Rome,” Marco told them. “Those days, entertainment revolved around killing and mutilation. Gladiators fought gladiators, criminals were forced to fight each other to the death, and wild animals often got thrown into the mix, for a little extra fun.”

“What a bunch of sickos,” Kelly whispered to Joe, who obviously loved every gory detail. “Lisa must be having a stroke about the animal thing.”

Joe shrugged. “She's the one with hairy pits, right? Man, did you end up with a bunch of loser roommates. Maybe she'll be so offended that she'll have to go home. That would be a shame.”

After lunch, Andrea took over for Marco and led the group for a walk along the Aurelian Wall, which surrounded and protected ancient Rome from invaders. Kelly's ears perked up as soon as Andrea started talking. Andrea was dressed in a chic linen pantsuit that was perfect for the hot day.

“Great,” Joe muttered in Kelly's ear. “More useless information. I would so much rather be catching some z's right now.”

“Shush,” Kelly ordered. “I want to hear what she's saying.”

Kelly moved toward the front of the group as Andrea stopped in front of a small stone building.

“This temple is dedicated to a great figure from mythology. See if you can guess who he is. His father was a god, his mother a mortal. In a fit of madness, he killed his own wife and children and was given twelve labors to atone for his deed. Anybody?”

Kelly's hand shot up. She couldn't wait to show Andrea that she'd studied up for this trip.

Andrea nodded at her. “Yes, Kelly?”

“It's obvious,” Kelly said. “The guy with the weird heel. The word
kill
is in his name. Achilles.”

Kelly heard muffled giggles throughout the group, and her face flamed.