“Now the dough will rise,” Theresa said. “Come and see your room.”
While she washed her hands, Rory waited, trying not to freak out about a strange guy living under the same roof as her. She’d never even lived on campus with a girl roommate. Since her parents were from Fayetteville, she’d lived at home even when she went to college. In truth, she was a little scared to move out, and they were more than happy to keep her near. But lately, she’d wanted to do more on her own. This was her chance to prove that she could.
So what if a guy lived in the next bedroom? It wasn’t like they were living together. It was more like having a guy in the next room at a hotel. She could do this. She wasn’t going to let some spacy stoner ruin her chance to prove her independence.
Theresa led her up a set of impossibly narrow, creaking wooden stairs with several turns. They rose almost vertically in the corner of the house. Upstairs, a long dark blue carpet with floral patterns in a deep goldenrod color lined the hardwood floor of the hallway. The walls were mercifully white to offset the color of the carpet, and along them, dozens of portraits and framed photos hung.
“This is mi familia,” Theresa said with a twinkling smile. She led Rory past a closed door, behind which Rory could hear the rhythmic beat of a Sublime song faintly. It could have been her imagination, but she thought she also smelled marijuana.
“And this is your room, my dear,” Theresa said, drawing her attention to a bedroom door that stood open. Inside, a small but clean room waited, the thin white blanket tucked in with the crisp precision of a hotel bed.
“Thank you so much,” Rory said. “I really appreciate it. And thanks for sending Ned to get me.”
“I hope you were not confused,” Theresa said. “I was sure I could make it today, but…I could not.” She looked down, her smile faltering for the first time since Rory had seen her. The corners of her mouth twisted down, and she gathered her apron into a knot. Theresa looked fine as far as Rory could see. And she wasn’t going to be invasive and ask. She had enough problems to know that they didn’t always show up at first meeting.
“It all turned out fine,” Rory assured Theresa.
Theresa left her to unpack then, and Rory texted her parents to let them know she’d made it okay, and Quinn to let her know that she’d talked to the guy. Quinn sent back a row of applause emojis, and her mother told her to call soon, and her father told her to be safe. Rory finished unpacking and then realized it was almost time for the welcome dinner that Professor McClain had arranged for the class.
She changed clothes quickly, took her phone, her camera, and a map just in case. When she stepped out into the hall, she ran right into Ned, and they did that awkward shuffling thing to get past each other, both stepping one way and then the other.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, her face flaming.
“It’s cool.” Ned leaned against her doorframe and tugged at a dreadlock. “You going out?”
“I have a dinner thing,” she said. “With my class.”
“Need me to take you?”
“Oh, um…you have a car?”
“Theresa has one,” he said. “But she never uses it. The battery was dead when I got here. I had to jump it. But she said I could use it, so I do.”
“I should probably learn to figure out my way around,” she said. “And plus, I wouldn’t want to make you drive me all the way down to the university building.”
“It’s no problem,” he said. “I like to get out of the house, you know? I get bored so easy. Let me show you around?” He smiled then, and his forehead crinkled in that earnest, James Dean kind of way. When he smiled, he was actually kind of cute.
“Okay, but just once,” she said. “So I can see where everything is before I have to do it myself.”
“Deal,” Ned said. “Let me grab my keys.”
Outside, he led her to an ugly little purple hatchback with the back bumper gone and rust around the windows and door handles. “I call her Jelly,” he said, patting the top of the car affectionately while he unlocked the door with a key. He climbed in, then reached across and unlocked Rory’s door. A wave of heat shimmered out to greet her, but she climbed in, grimacing at the smell inside the car, slightly musty and scorched. Everything in Rome smelled weird.
Rory rolled down the window, using the hand crank with the plastic covering gone, so it was just a metal bar, and let the heat dissipate as Ned started up Jelly. She was sure it would stall, but it came right to life, the engine knocking as if it would drop right out of the car at any moment.
“Are you sure this is safe?” she asked, snapping her seatbelt into the square buckle.
“Sure,” he said, turning out onto the street. “You’ll need to go this way to get the bus. I’ll show you our stop. And then there’s the tram. The stop isn’t much further than the bus, and it’s usually faster, in case you’re running late for class.”
She had a feeling he was one of those perpetually late guys, like most stoners she knew. Like Jack.
“So what do you do here?” she asked. “Are you studying abroad?”
“Art,” he said.
“I didn’t know they had study abroad for that.”
“Where else would I go but Rome?” he said. “I may never leave.”
“Don’t you have to?”
“No,” he said. “You can stay however long you want. I already changed my plane ticket once. I guess I’ll stay until I go.”
Rory marveled at how anyone could live that way, not knowing the future even a little bit. Only a guy could travel that way.
“What about you?” Ned asked after a minute.
“Anthropology.”
“That’s cool,” he said. “Just wait, though. You’ll end up wanting to stay, too. No one wants to leave Rome. It’s addictive.”
Rory wasn’t so sure. From her admittedly brief encounter with Rome, she already knew that it smelled like urine and the cats were mean.
Ned showed her the bus stop, the tram stop, and took her to the university, where she met with Professor McClain and a few others before going to dinner. There, she tried not to feel too utterly conspicuous. Luckily, Maggie made small talk with her, and she was able to sit with them and pretend she was part of their group.
That was how her social life had been at home, too. Of course she’d made a few friends in school, but mostly they were Jack’s friends. After they broke up, she’d managed to stay in the fringes of his extended group of friends, but she always felt like a tagalong, only included out of pity. She’d dreamed of making friends with a new group while in Rome, but when faced with the reality, she couldn’t imagine what it would take to actually make friends.
They all fit together so easily. She watched Maggie and Kristina bicker good-naturedly, neither seeming offended by their harsh words. Cynthia and Nick ate off each other’s plates, each seeming to find conversation effortless, their words flowing into the gaps when the other stopped speaking.
After dinner, Rory followed the others to the tram stop. She knew her stop, but when the others got off at theirs, she began to twist her fingers nervously and glance around at the other passengers. The tram smelled like urine. What kind of person would relieve themselves on mass transit?
At her stop, she exited the tram with a few others, none of whom had urinated during the ride. She wondered if any of them spoke English. If they noticed that she was alone. They probably thought she was a loser with no friends. As she walked back to Theresa’s house, she kept glancing around, aware of everyone she passed. Girls weren’t supposed to walk alone. Maybe she should have called Ned to come get her.
But he probably had better things to do than spend the evening chauffeuring her around. Besides, she didn’t want him to think she was a loser with no friends to escort her home. Or a loser who couldn’t find her own way home. He’d been nice enough to show her around a little already. She couldn’t burden a stranger with her anxiety. And he’d been in Rome for a while, so he probably had friends, or maybe a girlfriend
, who wanted to spend the evening with him.
When she got back, Theresa was in the sitting room with a cup of tea and a book. “How was your evening, dear?” she asked, as if she were Rory’s real mother.
“It was okay,” Rory said. She stood in the doorway of the sitting room, not sure whether to join Theresa or go to her room. Already she felt like she was imposing.
“Did you eat?” Theresa asked. “There is pizza in the refrigerator if you like it.”
“Thank you, but I ate.” Rory started to bite at a hangnail, then stopped herself. “Did my suitcase get here?”
“Oh, yes,” Theresa said. “I had Ned take it up to your room.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Rory shifted from foot to foot and glanced longingly at the stairs.
“Would you like some tea?” Theresa asked.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Rory said. “But thank you. I’ll just…I’ll go up to my room, if that’s okay.”
“Okay, dear. Sleep well.”
“You, too.” She hesitated another moment, not sure if she was supposed to say something more. But Theresa picked up her teacup and sipped at it, so Rory escaped while her attention was diverted. With each step, she winced at the creaking floorboards. It must annoy Theresa to have boarders traipsing up and down the stairs, making so much noise.
She was relieved when she saw that Ned’s door was closed. A light filtered from under it, but she hurried by, hoping she wouldn’t disturb him. Again, she could hear music through the door, this time Pink Floyd. She made it to her room, closed the door, tossed her suitcase onto the bed, and then sank down beside it. Relief at last. She could only truly relax when she was alone or with her family, and they were halfway around the world now. It was going to be a long six weeks.
CHAPTER Four
The next day, they had their first class, which was more like an orientation and an overview of their classes, which would go from eight in the morning until one in the afternoon each day for six weeks. On Friday, she made it to class on her own. This wasn’t so hard. As long as she didn’t miss a tram, she could follow the prescribed steps from Theresa’s house to class and back. She even had a few extra minutes after class in case Professor McClain kept them late.
She walked outside that day to see Kristina and Maggie leaning against the wall to the right, in the sliver of shade the building provided at that time of day. They were talking with Cynthia and Nick, all of them looking as comfortable as if they’d always gone to school there, as if they lived in Rome. How did anyone get so comfortable so fast? Rory was still agonizing over whether she’d chosen the right clothes that morning. Did people still wear jean shorts? Her mind never caught up to the present moment. All the moments leading up to it were too fraught with insecurity and indecision and second guesses.
She took out her phone and started to text her parents, who would be waking up now. Their day was just beginning. And then suddenly Cynthia was approaching her. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t meeting another one of her friends. Rory didn’t know what to say to a girl with pink hair, a girl with all the laughter and confidence.
From what seemed like a great distance, Cynthia spoke to her. She asked if she wanted to go out. To a club. Dancing.
Rory had been to a club once before, but after listening to Patty make fun the people dancing for the first hour, she hadn’t had the nerve to step onto the dancefloor herself. Usually, they stuck to local bands. So why was Cynthia asking her now? Was it because Nick had seen her dancing at a Jack of Spades show? But why would they want to go anywhere with her? They didn’t even know her.
Before she could consider all the possibilities, she was shaking her head no. She didn’t want to impose. The four of them would fit into a car, and she wouldn’t fit with them. If she went, she’d be the one who made everyone in the back seat have to squeeze together, too close for comfortable conversation.
“Maybe next time.” That was what she said. As soon as Cynthia and Nick walked away arm in arm, she cursed herself. Why hadn’t she said yes? She’d panicked and probably missed her only chance to make new friends in Rome. She thought about calling after them, but that would be too awful. To run after them and tell them she did want to go, she did want to be included in their cool group, to be one of them.
Instead, she stood rooted to the spot, berating herself for being such an idiot. When they had disappeared around a corner, she took out her phone and started to text her mother.
“Rory?”
She looked up, this time into the familiar scruffy face of her fellow boarder. She refused to call him her roommate. That sounded like they shared a room. “Oh, hi,” she said, her face warming for no particular reason other than that it could. “I—I didn’t know your classes were here, too.”
“Yeah,” he said in his stoner way. “Are you done? Wanna ride home in Jelly?”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “You probably have somewhere else to go…”
“Just heading back to Theresa’s,” he said. “You can ride if you want.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Cool.”
She followed him in silence, sure that she should say something, but not sure what to say. “Thanks,” she said at last.
“No problem, dude.”
“So, uh, where are you from, anyway?” she asked.
“The great state of Kentucky,” he said. “You?”
“Are you allowed to have dreads in Kentucky?”
Ned laughed, and a flicker of pride swelled in Rory’s chest. She’d made him laugh.
“Probably not,” he said. “But everyone in Rome seems okay with it so far. What about you? Where you from?”
“Arkansas.”
“Dude, we’re like, mortal enemies then.”
“What? Why?”
“Kidding,” he said, unlocking Jelly and sliding in to reach across and unlock her door. Maybe they could be friends, and he could teach her not to be so hopelessly awkward around guys. This could be a good thing, living with a guy. If she got used to one, maybe the rest wouldn’t be so alien and scary. She climbed into the car and rolled down the window. Jelly did not have air conditioning.
Maggie and Kristina still stood leaning against the wall, claiming their spot as if it were their birthright. Rory imagined leaning out the window to tell them she’d go with them. They’d wonder about her, who she was and how she’d already met a guy.
Or more likely, what she was even talking about. They hadn’t invited her. Cynthia had, and Rory had said no. For all she knew, Cynthia was now texting them as she walked home, telling them Rory was total spaz. And it wasn’t like either of them would be jealous of her for riding around in a rusted out tin can with a dready American guy.
Just then, her phone rang. She started and checked the screen. Of course it was her mother. She really would have rather spoken with Quinn right then. Quinn would understand why she had turned down the invitation. But it was only six-thirty in Arkansas, and Quinn would never answer her phone that early.
“Hi, Mom,” Rory said, turning away from Ned, as if he wouldn’t be able to hear her if she spoke towards the window.
“Hello, dear,” Winnie said. “How’s your class going? Are you doing okay?”
“I’m doing fine,” Rory muttered. “Class is fine.”
“What? I can’t hear you, dear. Do you think it’s a bad connection?”
“No, I can hear you fine,” Rory said, still speaking too low. Why had she answered? She knew her mother would freak out if she didn’t hear from her every day, but she could have texted back and told her mom she was busy just then.
“Are you sleeping well?” Winnie asked. “And finding your way around? You haven’t gotten lost in that big city, have you?”
“No,” Rory said. “It’s not so bad. I already know my route to class and back.”
“And you’re taking your meds?”
Rory glanced at Ned, heat prickling her neck
. But of course he couldn’t hear her mother. Could he? Her mother spoke so loudly. She wanted to hush her, but then she’d have to tell her why, and then her mother would have an aneurism. No matter how innocent the arrangement was, she wouldn’t want Rory living with a boy.
“Yes, Mom,” Rory said. “Everything is fine. Stop worrying so much.”
“I just want you to make it home in one piece,” Winnie said. “I wish you hadn’t gone so far away. Couldn’t you have studied somewhere closer, like the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone?”
“That wouldn’t be studying abroad.” She couldn’t stand it another minute. Ned must think she was insane, or at the very least, a hopeless loser who couldn’t wait to talk to her mother until she’d gotten home. “Can I call you back?” she said, forcing her flaming face to stay turned to the window so she wouldn’t have to see Ned’s expression of pity or contempt or amusement. “I think it might be a bad connection after all.”
When she hung up, she waited for Ned to say something, but he just drove in silence. Rory balled her hands into fists so tight her nails dug into her palms.
Get a grip, she told herself. What does it matter what Ned thinks of you?
But that technique had never worked for her, because she did care what people thought of her. In elementary school, her mother had told her not to care that the boys started calling her Carrot Top, because they were just being immature. But she had still come home crying about it at least once a week.
In middle school, her mom told her to ignore the pretty girls when they thought themselves immensely clever for calling her a dog and then a week later, naming her Spot because of all her freckles. But she had still gone home and cried alone in her room every day.
In high school, her mother told her not to worry that no one asked her to dances or delivered Candy Grams to her on Valentine’s Day, because those were silly things that shallow people were concerned about, and no one would notice that she didn’t get them because they were too busy worrying about themselves. She was probably right, but Rory still sat in class on those days, her heart racing every time a Valentine was delivered to a classroom or burning with shame when the girls around her talked about their dresses and dates for homecoming and prom and Sadie Hawkins. By then, she’d learned to cope a little better, and she didn’t cry about it anymore. Instead, she buried herself so deep in the worlds of Jane Eyre and Elizabeth Bennet, of Mordor and Hogwarts, that no one bothered to call her names anymore.
When In Rome...Find Yourself: A Sweet New Adult Romance Page 3