Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I call my mom to talk, knowing she’ll let me cry it out and then give me the same sage advice she always does: “You know what will make you feel better? A walk. Go get some fresh air and stir up some endorphins!” But she doesn’t answer and I realize belatedly that it’s still the middle of the night back home. My held-back tears start to fall. I feel ridiculous crying. Over what? Being away from home? My fight with Noah?
Ridiculous.
Noah isn’t crying. Noah is doing fancy footwork on a soccer pitch, showing off for a bunch of freshly minted teenagers who idolize him. He’s forgotten I exist.
I’ve never been all that good at wallowing. I can only stand in front of my window crying dramatically like I’m the main character in a music video for so long before the tap runs dry. There, that was efficient. I’ve had my cry and now I’m good as new. A Barbie right out of the box. Not one who’s had her hair chopped off and her arm popped out of socket by some pesky kid brother.
One big calming breath feels heavenly, so I do another.
I wash my face with cold water, reapply my makeup, and then check on the Trinity kids again. None of them have moved. Once I’m done, I give myself a proper tour of St. Cecilia’s. The place might as well still be a museum. It’s astounding that they can keep works of art intact in a place filled with children. I find and study twelve statues and eighteen paintings before the group from the farmer’s market returns with their hauls.
I ooh and ahh at everything they unpack out in the courtyard. There are fresh strawberries and baked Pane Toscano that we pass around and share. The bread is warm and flaky and the strawberries are so flavorful and juicy I wish I had a whole bushel of them to myself. A few of the students picked up sweet little bouquets of flowers for their rooms: dahlias, amaranthus, lisianthus, and garden roses all grown on nearby farms. Ashley got a pair of leather sandals that an artisan fit for her right there on the spot. Millie picked up a tiny landscape painting of Rome, and I compliment her on her find.
Everyone’s packing up their things to head into the school when Gabriella tugs me aside and tells me she could sense something has been a little off with me since the bar last night.
“I know you probably don’t want to get into it, but I figured…here. It’s just a little something.” She holds out hand cream in a small foil tube covered in delicate floral designs. “The vendor told me it’s rose and gardenia scented. His family makes it in small batches.”
The gesture is so sweet I can’t help but give her a hug.
“That was really nice of you. Thank you.”
She rubs my back. “You’re all right, then? No worse for wear after last night? It was strange when you and Noah left. I wasn’t sure what happened with you two.”
My throat threatens to tighten with emotion all over again, but I force a smile and shake my head. “Oh, it’s nothing. He and I are always at odds.”
She nods, studying me. “You two seem close…for coworkers I mean.” She laughs a little. “I mean, Ashley is one of my best friends, and I don’t even think she and I are as in sync as you and Noah.”
I look away, hating that tears burn in my eyes again. I thought I was done with all of this. I have to be done.
Sensing that I’m uncomfortable, she quickly changes the subject. “By the way, I hope you meant what you said last night about Lorenzo, because I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes here…and it’s not like I usually just hop from one guy to the next, but it was pretty clear that things weren’t going anywhere with Noah.”
She must see my confusion. I was there when they returned from their date. I heard how enthusiastic she was about it all.
“To be frank, I was sort of enamored with Noah at first.” She shrugs. “But something was just off the whole night we went out. Like he had a chip on his shoulder or maybe he just didn’t want to be there. He was pleasant enough, but he had us order as soon as we arrived at the restaurant and he asked for the check when I was still eating. I mean, sure, he paid, but can I finish my glass of wine in peace? Sheesh.”
I don’t really know what to say.
“Anyway, not to make you feel weird, but Lorenzo sort of had the same feeling about you…that you weren’t that into him. That doesn’t shock you, does it? Because tell me if you like him and I’ll totally back off—”