“That far away? Shouldn’t we sleep nearby in case they need us?”
Or, more likely, in case any of them tries to sneak out.
“A security guard patrols the school at night,” Lorenzo assures us.
Pfft. Like that’s enough?
“Middle schoolers can be sneaky.”
“Yes, but in Europe, we give children a bit more freedom than you all do in the States. The children will get into mischief one way or another. You can’t keep track of them every second of the day.”
Watch me.
I turn to Noah to gauge his feelings on the topic, and he shrugs. “Let’s see how far the rooms are and then make up our mind.”
“Come. This way.”
Lorenzo walks beside me, and Noah takes up the rear.
“Is your knee okay?” Lorenzo asks.
“Oh…it’s nothing.”
He frowns. “Like I said, I have a first aid kit. I’ll get it for you once we set down your things.”
We walk down the corridor and loop back to where Lorenzo first found us near the central staircase. We continue past, along the hall that faces the balcony, and I make small talk with our host.
“How long have you taught here?”
“Seven years now. I teach English to the students at the school, but my true passion is history. It’s why I like to do this summer program. I love to teach people about my beloved city.”
We round the corner toward a hallway that looks identical to the one where we just dropped off the students. Marble floors and plaster walls with doors spaced equally apart on either side.
“This is where you two will stay. Not all of the faculty rooms are open for the summer. The school’s only given me half a dozen keys, but you should both be able to take a room for yourselves. Trinity faculty are already set up down there, but here, Audrey, this room is vacant,” he says, leading me toward a door along the outer wall of the corridor. Boo. I was hoping for a view of the courtyard, and at first, I’m slightly disappointed. Then, he pulls a key ring out of his pocket and unlocks the door for me, and right away, I see I’m being treated to a room with a private view that looks down on our neighbor’s garden. It’s beautiful and lush with cheerful red poppies, pea vine, and garden roses. Along a back fence, there’s a row of lemon and orange trees planted in thick clay pots.
Lorenzo walks into the room to drop off my luggage then points to the window.
“If you open it, you’ll be able to smell the jasmine.”
I’m tempted to try it right then, but I’m hyperaware of Noah’s presence at the door. I don’t invite him in any further.
I’m the picture of awkwardness, but not him. He always seems so perfectly in control of his body, every breath, every subtle movement. He shouldn’t be. He should be a bull in a china shop.
He steps back out into the hall, and Lorenzo snaps his fingers as if he just remembered Noah needs a room too. “And Noah, you can stay here, right across the hall from your friend.”
Friend.
I’m surprised Noah doesn’t snort.
Lorenzo unlocks the door, and I peer in because I just can’t help myself. Our rooms are mirror images of each other. There’s a small desk under the window facing the courtyard, and his twin bed is just as miniscule as mine. At night, I’ll lie awake smiling, knowing how uncomfortable he is with his knees bent up in the fetal position and his head hitting the wall.
Lorenzo disconnects our keys from the others on his key ring as he apologizes for the modest accommodations. Noah shrugs it off.
“It’s great.”
I eye Noah with skepticism behind Lorenzo’s back. He turns and sees me, his brow quirking.
“So? What should we do? Stay here or move to the other side of the building?”
Lorenzo holds up his finger. “I should mention, if you two want to stay near the children, you’ll be sharing their communal bathro—”
He doesn’t even need to get the full word out before my hand shoots into the air to stop him. “This is fine. We’ll take turns checking in on them at night or something.”
Lorenzo laughs. “Good. Now let me go get you that first aid kit.”
He disappears down the hall, and I’m standing at Noah’s door.
The energy changes in an instant.
We’ve never been left alone like this outside of school.
The possibilities are endless. We could finally have it out. Put our hands on each other. Disfigure. Maim. Worse.
We’re both quiet for a long second, and then he turns toward me and tilts his head as if mulling something over.
“Should we set up some ground rules?” he finally asks.
My heart skips a beat then races to catch up. “Like what?”
“Like no sleeping with the program director?”
Now it’s my turn to hold back a snort. “Finding yourself tempted?” I hold up my hands in defeat. “Hey, go for it.”
Noah doesn’t like my cutesy act. He really thinks there’s something brewing between me and Lorenzo. Is there? God, that’d be nice.
“All right, here you go,” Lorenzo says, hurrying back with a small first aid kit in hand. Noah is still holding my stare and his eyes narrow a little, maybe in warning, maybe just in good ol’ fun. I look to Lorenzo and give him a thank you and a smile.
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get settled in before lunch,” he tells me. “If you’re wanting to wash your leg off, the bathroom is just down the hall.”
That’s exactly where I head once I have my toiletries and a change of clothes.
The communal bathroom is much nicer than I was expecting. No grungy sludge-lined tile, no crusty toilets. Along one wall, there’s a row of shower stalls with brand new opaque plastic curtains. Along another, there are sinks and mirrors. The toilets are separated into three private rooms with actual doors. A bank of windows with frosted glass lets in warm afternoon sunlight.
I read in the information packet that a laundry service comes to the school once a week, so there are fresh folded towels near the showers. I’m headed toward them—anxious to wash off the street germs that have been marinating on my knee for the last half hour—when I catch sight of my own reflection in one of the mirrors and freeze.