When In Rome...Find Yourself: A Sweet New Adult Romance

by Lena Mae Hill

  She walked closer to Ned, who was busy gazing at all the buildings they passed with his glassy, stoned expression. At lunch, she had gotten the feeling at lunch that Kristina didn’t like her, but she didn’t know why or what she’d done. On the plane, Kristina had been all too happy to unload her boyfriend drama on Rory’s willing ears. But as soon as they landed, she’d started pretending Rory didn’t exist. And now she’d gone to being flat-out rude.

  But Rory couldn’t really blame her anymore. She’d butted in on their conversation and taken the opposite side from Kristina. She should have joined forces with her to gain favor, as even she could see that Kristina was the group’s alpha. Of course Kristina didn’t respect or want her opinion on style. She bought most of her clothes used and took fashion advice from a girl who believed in the eventual revival of goth.

  When they got to their tram stop, Rory and Ned climbed off. Kristina hadn’t spoken another word to her, but was talking and laughing with Maggie again. How did they recover so quickly? If she and Quinn got in a fight, they could stew for days, barely speaking, before getting over it. Rory had never fought with anyone else, not Patty or her group of friends, certainly not Jack. But Maggie and Kristina seemed entirely over their fight already, in less than an hour. Maybe that was how real friendships worked.

  To Rory’s surprise, Cynthia gave her a quick hug when she and Ned left the tram stop. “See you tomorrow,” Cynthia said with a wave. She turned away to follow Nick, trailing her long pink hair behind her like an alt-rock Mexican Rapunzel.

  Rory followed Ned with much less flair, leaving the tram station while the others switched trams. She wondered what her mother would say if she came home from Rome with pink hair. She probably wouldn’t say anything, because she’d drop over dead the moment she saw it. It didn’t matter, though, because Rory would never be brave enough to dye her hair. And pink wouldn’t look good with her complexion, anyway.

  CHAPTER seven

  When they got back to Theresa’s, Rory followed Ned inside. For once, Tom was nowhere to be seen. Theresa rushed them, wringing her hands. “I’m so glad you are home,” she said. “I was so worried about you. But you are back, that’s good.”

  “We’re back,” Ned said with a little laugh.

  Something was wrong, though. Rory could feel her anxiety ratcheting up just being around Theresa. And the house was different. It was always hot, since Theresa didn’t have air conditioning, but now it was sweltering and stuffy.

  “Let me get you some tea, come in the kitchen and have some tea,” Theresa said, rushing ahead to the kitchen. As Rory followed, casting a glance at Ned, she noticed the curtains in the sitting room were drawn, not letting in the bright sunlight as they usually did. They hung limp over closed windows. That explained the heat in the house.

  “Um, is…is everything okay?” Rory asked as they reached the kitchen.

  “Oh, yes, everything is wonderful,” Theresa said, sloshing tea into a cup. She brought it to the table and sat down with it. “My son called.”

  “Whoa,” Ned said.

  Theresa gave a tremulous smile, as if she were about to burst into tears, but it was brimming with hope, too. Rory had a picture on her camera of one of the kids at her mom’s church nursery with that smile. It was the smile of a toddler who had broken a toy and was hoping her parents thought it was funny but really didn’t think they were going to.

  “Sit down, have some tea,” Theresa said again, then jumped up. “Oh my heavens, I’ve forgotten it.” Her chair clattered to the floor. “Now look what I’ve done,” she cried.

  “It’s okay,” Rory said. “I’ll get the tea. You just sit a minute and try to relax.” She helped Theresa into the chair and rested her hand on her shoulder. “Let’s all sit down and talk. Ned probably needs to get off his feet, too. You know how guys are about shopping.”

  She gave Ned a meaningful look, praying this one time he wouldn’t be too dazed to notice. After bugging her eyes at him and nodding to the seat a couple times, Rory was about to have to spell it out for him when he finally sat opposite Theresa. Rory went to the counter to get them some tea, more for Theresa’s comfort than her own. The last thing she wanted was hot tea in the suffocating house.

  She brought two cups to the table and sat down beside Theresa. “Want to tell us about it?” she asked, wanting to put a hand on Theresa’s shoulder again but feeling too awkward about it. You never knew if someone wanted to be touched. It was the last thing Rory herself wanted when her anxiety was high.

  “He says he wants to meet,” Theresa said, her hands trembling as she lifted her cup to her lips. Tea sloshed onto the table and her saucer as she replaced the cup.

  “That’s great, though, right?” Ned asked.

  “Of course it is,” Theresa snapped, but she didn’t look like it was such a great thing. Rory didn’t know all the history. She wished she could have a moment alone with Ned so he could fill her in, or that she’d asked Theresa about her family earlier. She was a bit lost now, and Ned was looking at her like she was supposed to have all the answers. She squeezed her hands into fists under the table and tried to still her own shaking. All she wanted to do was bolt up to her room and nestle into her blankets with Romeo and Juliet, which she was rereading for the twenty-second time, since it was set in Italy.

  But running away wouldn’t help anyone but herself right now.

  “It’s just been so long,” Theresa said, starting to lift her cup again. It rattled against her saucer so badly that tea sloshed over the rim before she even lifted it, and she gave up and set both her palms on the table, breathing hard.

  “You okay?” Ned asked, his eyes wide.

  “I’m fine,” Theresa wheezed, then grasped at her chest with one hand. “It’s so hot in here. Why is it so hot?”

  “Ned, go open the windows, would you?” Rory hissed.

  “Is she having a heart attack?” Ned whispered.

  “Theresa, do you need us to call an…ambulance?” Rory wasn’t even sure it was called that in Italy, but her mind went blank when she tried to think of another word. Of all the people she could have gotten for a house mother, she’d gotten one more screwed up than she was.

  Ned had gone to open the windows, and Theresa was shaking her head. “Lay down,” she said. “I should lay down.”

  “Are you sure? I think you might need to see a doctor.”

  “No!” Theresa yelled. “I can’t go to hospital.” Her breathing had gotten even faster and louder.

  “If you’re sure,” Rory said doubtfully. “Let me help you to the couch.”

  Theresa nodded, fanning her chest with the neck of her shirt. She struggled to stand, and Rory slipped under her arm and helped her into the sitting room. There, she lowered Theresa onto the couch. Ned appeared on the stairs, hovering just below the bottom as if awaiting instruction.

  “Is that better?” Rory asked Theresa.

  Theresa nodded, cupping her hands over her mouth and breathing into them.

  Rory glanced at Ned. “I opened the ones upstairs, too,” he said.

  “Maybe it’s just a panic attack,” Rory said, slipping behind the couch to whisper to Ned. “She’s breathing into her hands. That’s good, right? She knows what to do. Has this happened before?”

  “Not while I’ve been around.”

  “Let’s give her a minute, and then if she’s not better, we’ll call the nearest hospital. Can you look it up on your phone? We probably shouldn’t tell her until it’s here. The idea of the hospital seemed to make it worse.”

  “Okay, cool,” Ned said, slipping his phone from his pocket.

  Rory went back to sit next to Theresa so she could signal Ned if he needed to call. Theresa’s breathing had slowed, though. Maybe the idea of leaving the house had set her off. Her son could have invited her over to his house, and she wanted to see him, but she didn’t want to leave the house, so she freaked out.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Rory said quietly. “You’re saf
e. You don’t have to anything you don’t want. We’ll just stay right here with you and make sure you’re okay. How does that sound?”

  Theresa nodded, her hands still cupped over her mouth, her eyes red above them. Ned’s thumb hovered over his phone, his eyes trained on Rory. She gave a slight shake of her head, and he slipped his phone back in his pocket. For a while, they waited. At last, Theresa’s eyes drifted shut, and a minute later, a soft snore escaped her lips.

  Rory slumped down, a new round of trembling gripping her body. When a second snore came from their sleeping host mother, Ned left the stairs and came to sit beside Rory, on the arm of the chair. “Dude.”

  “Yeah.”

  For a second, neither of them spoke. “So that’s never happened before?” she asked at last.

  “Not like that,” he said. “Not even close. I mean, sometimes she’s kind of…I’m not sure how to describe it. Manic. But it freaks me out, so I just leave her alone, and she’s always fine the next day.”

  Rory opened her mouth to scold him for leaving Theresa alone, but then she thought of her own anxiety, and how embarrassed she was when she acted like a nutcase in front of other people. And how often she wished they hadn’t been there to see her blushing and sweating and acting like a nervous wreck.

  “You were really good with her,” Ned said.

  “I have anxiety. I know what it’s like.”

  “Do you do that?”

  “I don’t have panic attacks.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “It looked pretty bad. Poor Theresa.” He smiled down at the sleeping woman with affection.

  “So what’s up with her son?”

  “I don’t know the whole story,” Ned said. “But her family hasn’t spoken to her in years. It’s just her. She says that’s why she likes to take on boarders. She has extra rooms, and she says we’re like her family. I don’t know what happened with her real family. I got the feeling it was something pretty bad, though.”

  “Bad like she murdered her daughter? Because I’m pretty sure she told me her daughter was dead. That would be a good reason to stop speaking to your mother.”

  Ned looked at Theresa again. “No way. That sweet old lady?”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” After a minute, though, Rory couldn’t help but add, “But maybe her son is dead, too, and that’s why it freaked her out so much when he called.”

  “Dude, you’re morbid,” Ned said, but he looked kind of impressed. “You think she killed her whole family?”

  “I’m sure she didn’t kill them all,” Rory said. “But everyone has a past. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “That’s a pretty big mistake. Oops, I killed my kids…”

  “That explains why they’re haunting her, though. I mean, have you ever seen these people? And it just happens that they call when we’re out of the house?”

  “Are you trying to freak me out?”

  “It doesn’t mean we’re next,” Rory said. “I’m sure she’s changed.”

  “Dude, that’s so messed up. I can’t even tell if you’re joking.”

  Rory laughed, and he laughed, too, looking a little relieved and a little impressed. “You’re full of surprises, Rory Hartnett.”

  She smiled and studied Theresa, but she could feel Ned studying her, so close she was suddenly aware of the heat of him pressing her down into the chair. She balled her hands into fists and tried to keep her breath from shaking. Was he flirting with her, right there in the living room while their fragile host mother slept on the couch? Was she flirting with him?

  “It’s always the quiet ones,” Ned said. “You never know what’s going on inside their twisted minds.” He reached out and slowly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing her cheek. She sat frozen, the heat of his touch skipping across her skin like a stone on the still surface of a lake.

  Let me be that lake, let me be that still, she begged silently. Don’t let me say something stupid and ruin this…

  This what? What was this?

  Her heart was beating so hard. She wanted to close her eyes and sigh into his touch, lean her face into his palm. But that wasn’t an option. If Jack had taught her anything, it was that she could not be trusted to give her heart away to the right guy. And she wasn’t going to make those mistakes again, to get so caught up in someone that she lost all reason. She and Quinn had agreed, love was for people who knew how to control their hearts. She wasn’t about to break a pact with her sister for some guy she hadn’t known a week.

  She leapt from the chair and fled upstairs before she could do anything stupid, like fall in love.

  “Dude, sorry,” Ned called after her, but she didn’t stop until she’d flung herself across her bed. If she pressed her face into her pillow, it would light her bed on fire.

  With trembling fingers, she typed a text to Quinn.

  “Help! I think my housemate just hit on me.”

  A minute later, her phone rang. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Quinn asked as a hello.

  “I’m fine,” Rory said, laughing with relief to hear her sister’s voice. She rolled onto her back. “I’m sure I’m overeating. He just touched my hair.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I ran away and hid in my room.”

  “Good girl,” Quinn said, laughing. “Showing him the door with real class.”

  They talked for a while longer, Quinn telling her about Cape Cod, seeing her ex, and her new friend who was also obsessed with Brody’s disappearance. Rory told her sister about Rome and the girls.

  “Have you gotten any good pictures?” Quinn asked.

  “I think so,” Rory said. “I haven’t looked at them on my laptop yet. I’ll post some tonight.” She’d meant to keep a good photo journal of her trip, but she was already falling behind. Her family loved her photography, but she didn’t know how many random people online would like it. Still, she’d promised her extended family, much of which had contributed financially to her trip, that she’d post about her travels on a blog so they could follow along with her adventures.

  Now, with all the classes, scheduled outings, and her host family, she didn’t have as much time as she’d expected to just sit and play with Photoshop. But a promise was a promise.

  “I saw this photography contest in a magazine on the plane,” she told Quinn.

  “Really? You should enter. What’s the prize?”

  “It’s this internship at a travel e-zine,” Rory said, looking up at the page she’d taped to her makeshift vision board, which was really just a spot on the wall she’d designated for the purpose. “But it’s unpaid, and I’d be here by myself,” she added.

  “You’re there by yourself now.”

  “I’m with a class,” Rory said. “It’s not like I’m traveling alone in Europe. Mom would never let me stay.”

  “Okay, listen. I have this revolutionary idea.”

  “Well? What is it?” Rory asked after a minute, when Quinn didn’t go on.

  “It’s called you’re twenty-one and Mom can’t tell you what to do anymore.”

  “Oh, come on,” Rory said. “You know that’s not true. Mom will tell us what to do until we’re at least eighty.”

  “But you don’t have to do it,” Quinn said. “Unlike me, who Mom says needs to stop hiding in my room and go to the beach.”

  “Tell her that with our complexion, that qualifies as child abuse.”

  “Yeah, that might work if she wasn’t the one who cursed us with this complexion. Or lack of one.”

  Though Quinn wasn’t cursed with freckles, she was as fair-skinned as Rory, with the kind of lily whiteness that could get sunburned through a beach umbrella dripping sunscreen. But for some unfathomable reason, Winnie loved the beach. In truth, Rory sort of loved it, too.

  She remembered that Rome had some beaches, and made a mental note to go see them, for photos if nothing else. When she finished her conversation with Quinn, she spent the evening sorting through her photos, cropping an
d editing until she had her best images. Before going to bed, she posted them online, then listened for Ned’s footsteps. He’d been intermittently walking around his room every now and then for most of the evening.

  Rory checked to make sure the hallway was empty and Ned’s door was closed before darting into the bathroom. She wondered what Ned was doing in there. Was he pacing because he felt bad about what had happened? She should probably apologize. He must think she was a total schizo to have rushed off like that over nothing. How could she possibly tell him not to feel guilty, that she’d run away not because she hadn’t liked what he’d done, but because she had?

  Of course, she couldn’t tell him something like that. First, because then he’d know that she liked it, and second, because saying something like that might literally kill her. And she couldn’t do that to her parents after what had happened to her brother.

  When she’d gotten ready for bed, she turned the knob to the bathroom door and peeked out. She slammed shut the bathroom door again, her heart racing. Oh, crap. Ned was in the hall. What now? He’d been standing there, obviously waiting for the bathroom. And she’d slammed the door in his face. If he didn’t think she was certifiable before, he would now.

  She fumbled her phone from her pocket and texted Quinn. “Help! I’m stuck in the bathroom and Ned is outside the door. What should I do?”

  “Did you just stink up the bathroom?” Quinn texted back a minute later. She completed her adorable message by adding a poop emoji.

  Rory dropped her forehead against the door. Oh, no. What if he thought she’d been in there so long because she was pooping, and that’s why she’d slammed the door, because she was embarrassed for him to use the bathroom after her? This was even worse than she’d thought. How had she imagined that living with a guy might be a good thing?