Getting the Boot (8 page)

“I'll try harder, Andrea,” Kelly said, flipping to a fresh page to begin her drawing assignment. “I promise.”

Kelly watched Andrea head down the beach. Then she turned back to her sketch pad, thinking. She had some serious work to do, and not a whole lot of time.

Later on, they were going to visit the ruins of Lido di Ostia's forum. She'd definitely be able to start a drawing then, and snap some digital photos as well. She could put the finishing touches on it after dinner. She'd stay up as late as she needed to.

“What up, Brandt?” The voice was right in her ear, and it scared her silly.

She gave Joe a playful poke in the ribs. “Where did you sneak up from?”

“Rod and I are chillin' farther down the beach. This place blows, man. There's not a wave to be caught.” Joe put his arm around Kelly's shoulders. “If you weren't here in that bikini, the trip would be a total waste.”

Kelly finally had a chance to check out the tattoo on his arm—it was a band of bright blue waves, with foamy whitecaps on top. She noticed that Joe's blue-green eyes looked a little glassy.

“Are you high?”

He laughed. “Maybe a little bit. Rod and I hooked up with a guy in Ostiense last night and scored some decent weed. We just fired one up. You want some? There's a delightfully private alley just across the highway.”

“Not for me, thanks. Anyway, I'm happy to watch the seagulls. God, have you ever seen such a bunch of stiffs in your life? I can't believe Dr. W got them out of the library for a whole afternoon. I bet kids in Malibu aren't allowed to be this pasty.”

Joe didn't seem to be listening to her. He looked around furtively. “Wanna see something?” He took her hand and slid a warm piece of metal into her palm.

“Thrilling. A key.”

“Not just any key, babe. This is the front-door key to the PIR. With this miraculous item in my possession, curfew means nothing to me.”

“Where did you get this?”

“I'm tricky that way. Let's just say I'm real good at getting what I want.” He gazed at her meaningfully. “After dinner tonight, I'm going to take you dancing. How about it?”

Kelly's heart leaped, but then she hesitated. “I really shouldn't. I have to finish an assignment for Andrea's class. It's already late.”

Joe snorted. “It's not due
today,
is it?”

“Well, no, but—”

“So finish it tomorrow morning.” He smiled at her. “You know you're dying to check out the club scene here.”

What could Kelly say? What Joe Leahy wanted, Joe Leahy got.

“I'll be there,” she said.

 

 

Joe took her to Testaccio, the neighborhood right next to Aventino. It was a pretty grim-looking area, kind of industrial and blah. “Some of the hottest clubs in the city are here,” Joe told her. “Rod and I scouted out a whole bunch of 'em.”

Dr. Wainwright had already taken them to Testaccio for an ancient-history class. Back in ancient times, it was the city dump. Later on, it became the part of town where all the city's slaughterhouses were located. Kelly was relieved to know they were long gone.

One of the highlights of the neighborhood was a pyramid where some big-shot politician was buried a couple thousand years ago. Kelly was kind of shocked to see a pyramid in the middle of Rome, but it turned out that the ancient Romans were totally crazy for Egyptian stuff.

The area was hopping with young people heading out to eat or party. Joe obviously knew exactly where he was going, and grabbing her hand, he led her into a nondescript old warehouse building. Inside, strobes popped like crazy and techno pulsed so loudly she could feel it in her gut. Kelly's heart pounded with excitement. Why on earth hadn't she had a real date with Joe sooner?

“C'mon, let's get a drink.” They worked their way toward the bar.

One of her parents' conditions for Kelly attending the PIR was that she sign a contract specifically geared toward Rome. Kelly went through its conditions in her mind.

 

 

I, Kelly Rebecca Brandt, agree to obey the following terms for the duration of my time in Italy. I understand that failure to comply with these rules will result in immediate removal from the program:

No alcohol except wine, and only at supervised school functions.
There was no way to get around that one, so she decided that bending the rules halfway was her best bet.

“I'll just have a glass of wine.”

Joe waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, you're in Rome, babe! You've gotta try something really Italian tonight.” He waved over the bartender and shouted in his ear.
“Due Campari soda, per favore.”
He handed her a glass of what looked like a Shirley Temple. “Drink up, Brandt. We have serious dancing to do.”

Kelly put the glass to her lips and nearly gagged. “You're joking, right? This stuff is utterly foul!”

Joe laughed. “Tastes like cough medicine, right? But Italians love it. They're really into the bitter taste. Drink up—the farther down you get, the more you'll like it.”

They were out on the dance floor for hours, having a blast. Kelly did feel a twinge of guilt about lying to Sheela; Kelly had told her that she was hanging out in Joe and Rodney's room and wouldn't be back until late.

Right now Sheela was probably in the library with Jarvis, grinding away at her Latin. Kelly probably should have been there, too, working on her art assignment. She'd get up early tomorrow to finish it, but drawing bleary-eyed seemed like a bad way to try to get back into Andrea's good graces. She'd just have to work harder on her next project.

“You still have that key, right?” Kelly shouted over the music.

Joe pulled a string out from under his shirt and dangled the key in front of her face. “No worries at all, babe. Dr. Wainwright locks the door at one A.M., but he never does a room check. We can stay out as long as we want. Just relax and have fun. You seem like you need it.” He leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the lips.

Kelly shut her eyes and smiled. The music washed over her like the turquoise waves of the Mediterranean Sea.

 

 

Kelly giggled as she struggled to open the door to her suite. Joe was leaning against the door, blocking the keyhole and laughing loudly.

“Come on, Joe. Let me go to bed,” she said for about the fourth time. “It's three, and I can't be late for class tomorrow.”

Joe laughed even louder, a sloppy grin spreading across his face. “Why break your perfect record? If you showed up on time, people would freak.”

Kelly gave him a playful shove. Joe had sucked down about three too many Camparis at the club, leaving Kelly to track down a taxi while he dozed on the curb. When they finally got back to the dorm, she almost had to carry him upstairs. If she'd had more than one drink herself, they might still be in Testaccio.

Joe nuzzled her neck. “Let's go down to the lounge and crash on the couch for a while.”

“Yeah, right.” Kelly rolled her eyes. This had been fun for about the first five minutes, but now it was getting ridiculous. All Kelly wanted to do was go to sleep. “Just because they don't do room checks doesn't mean that we won't wake everybody with all the noise we're making. My roommates would love to see me get busted.” She ducked under his arm and triumphantly turned the key in the lock. “Say good night, Joe,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she squeezed through her half-open door.

“Good night, Joe!” he yelled after her.

She could still hear him laughing and stumbling down the hallway as she shut the door and slid off her shoes. Then the overhead light switched on.

“Don't bother trying to be quiet now,” a steely voice said from behind her. “We're all wide-awake.”

Kelly turned from the door to find Sheela, Lisa, and Minnie all standing in the common room, looking disheveled and, even worse, incredibly grumpy.

“I'm so sorry, you guys,” Kelly said, giggling nervously. “We lost track of time and—”

“Save it,” Lisa muttered. “The least you could have done was dump him in his room first so we'd be spared the drunken drama.”

Sheela sighed. “Since it's too late for that, why don't we all try to go back to sleep?”

Kelly looked into three sleepy, glowering faces. She wanted to say she was sorry again, but there didn't seem to be much point. Not at three in the morning, anyway. She picked up her shoes and, head hanging, headed off to bed.

The morning of the program's trip to the Vatican, Kelly overslept yet again. She and Joe had gone out together almost every night for the last two weeks, and last night had been no exception. Kelly was so pumped up that she didn't mind the sweltering temperature in her little room. Even Andrea's reprimand, for handing in her art project another day late, couldn't dampen her mood.

While she showered, her mind replayed the highlights of the evening before: She and Joe had hung out on the terrace until the small hours, talking, laughing, and kissing. She was still smiling as she swiped on a little mascara and grabbed the first clean outfit in her drawer, pink cargo shorts and a yellow tank top.

She and Joe exchanged sly grins as she bounded up to the group already assembled in front of the school building. He didn't look any the worse for wear, she noticed. Hopefully she didn't, either. Andrea was standing at the head of the crowd, impeccable as usual, waiting for them to quiet down. Kelly felt her cool gaze sweep up and down over her outfit. She fixed Andrea with her sweetest, most innocent smile and mouthed, “Sorry I'm late.” Andrea nodded curtly and led the group down the street, where a pair of vans waited to take them to the Vatican City.

To Kelly's surprise, Andrea motioned for Joe to get on the bus first and sat down next to him. Kelly plopped down a few rows behind. She looked around for Sheela and saw her climbing the steps into the other van, a notebook tucked under her arm.

As they began the usual bob and weave through traffic, Andrea gave them a little background on the day's activities. They'd check out St. Peter's Square, go into the Basilica, and spend several hours in the Vatican museums, ending up at the Sistine Chapel. Apparently, the Basilica was the largest cathedral in the world, and the
Pietà
, by Michelangelo, was one of the many great treasures they were going to see. Andrea's tone became reverent as she described the painstaking restoration of the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo's ceiling, one of the most recognizable artworks in the world, was first to be cleaned. When it was completed, Michelangelo's original, vibrant palette was visible for the first time in centuries. Seeing it in this condition was a privilege that generations of visitors had missed out on.

Kelly let Andrea's voice wash over her. Andrea was a great speaker, and it was obvious to Kelly that she never got tired of sharing her vast knowledge. Even on three hours' sleep, Kelly could feel herself getting caught up in Andrea's enthusiasm.

Soon the imposing dome of the Vatican loomed ahead, and they followed Andrea and Steve to the giant Egyptian obelisk standing in the center of St. Peter's Square. Kelly felt tiny in this enormous space, with thousands of tourists and hundreds of years of history surrounding her. Andrea continued her speech over the bubbling of two gigantic fountains situated on either side of the piazza.

“We have now entered a state that does not belong to Rome. The Vatican City is governed entirely by its own laws—it has its own police force, post office, money, and even its own radio station.

“The earliest buildings date back to the mid-fifteenth century, and many of the greatest Italian artists of all time were involved in its design and decoration. The Vatican Museums, which we'll visit this morning, contain an incredible array of treasures of immeasurable value. You will see magnificent examples of mosaic, tapestries, ceramics, metalwork—pretty much every medium imaginable, all created by master artists and craftsmen and spanning many eras, right up to our own.”

Andrea went on to rattle off a list of artists, whose names, Kelly noticed with some irritation, Sheela dutifully wrote down. Kelly knew Michelangelo, obviously, and Raphael and Bernini sounded familiar, but the others meant nothing to her. She watched some birds picking at a piece of bread on the ground and wished she had had time to eat some breakfast.