What Happens Abroad (3 page)

Joelle shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Did you—did she—”

“Did you love her?” Sarah cut to the heart of the matter.

Joelle fiddled with her empty glass. “I barely knew her. But kissing her felt right; righter than with anyone else I've ever kissed.”

Did that make her a lesbian?
I wondered how to ask my question, but Sarah beat me to it. “So you think maybe you're bisexual? Or gay?”

Joelle nodded. “Bi.” She exhaled. “That doesn't get easier to say; you guys are only the second people I've told.”

I wasn't sure what to say, but Sarah leaned over and squeezed Joelle's hand. “I'm glad you trust us.”

I nodded. “Do you think you two will keep in touch?”

Tears filled Joelle's eyes, and she shook her head. “She was ready for the real thing,” she said softly, “but I was too scared of what my parents would say. And it's not like a long-distance relationship would make things any easier.” After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she looked up. “Can we drop it?”

I nodded. “Sure. But if you want to talk,” I glanced at Sarah, “if either of you want to talk, well, we shouldn't be afraid to say what's on our minds.”

Sarah beamed. “You guys are the best.”

“Now, who wants dessert?” Joelle's jaw was set as she handed out the pastries, and I wondered if she'd regretted her admission. Sarah and I had both spilled some pretty personal stuff at the dinner table, but somehow, what Joelle said felt more intimate. Still, the conversation didn't veer back to our love lives again, and I for one was grateful. Thinking about Hunter had opened up a dark spot inside me, and between the wine, my earlier bad mood, and the memories of our night together that were still surfacing in my mind, I was feeling awful again by the time we polished off the wine.

Sarah and Joelle insisted on cleaning up, since I'd cooked. I could have stayed in the kitchen with them and chatted, but instead, I gave in to my melancholy and shut myself up in my room. I was tired, and I was selfishly grateful to be on my own again. I undressed in the dark, remembering the way Hunter's hands had lingered on my hips when he kissed me.

I shook my head, hopping into bed. There was no point thinking about him. Besides, it wasn't like I'd have another chance with him. The universe wasn't that cruel.

Sarah woke me up with her singing in the shower. Well, I can't really call it singing; the girl was belting like she was some jazz starlet, and it was hard to wake up angry with a smoky rendition of “My Way” seeping under the door. I wandered down the hall to the kitchen, hoping for coffee.

Joelle was standing there, looking through the cupboards. I paused in the doorway, not sure what to say to her after all the true confessions last night, but she barely looked at me as she slammed the cupboard door and sank down onto the kitchen stool. “Damn it,” she growled, and I took a tentative step out of the kitchen.

“What's wrong?” I asked from the safe distance of the hall.

“No one thought to buy coffee.”

I shrugged. “We can get some on our way out, right?”

Sarah appeared behind me, scrunching her long red hair with a towel. “She may have an amazing internal clock, but she's also heavily dependent on caffeine. We better get the girl some espresso, and fast.”

“I'll shower quickly,” I promised. Joelle just groaned.

I hopped into the shower, but I didn't bother washing my hair. I got dressed in a hurry, pulling my hair back in a brown-and-red-striped scarf. It wasn't like we were doing anything fancy today; before we'd gone to bed last night, Sarah, Joelle, and I had decided that we would hit some museums and do a little shopping. They wanted to find Michelangelo's
David
, and I was itching to see the huge Botticelli housed at the Uffizi Gallery, so it sounded like a good plan.

Joelle looked even crankier than when I'd first woken up, and Sarah and I hustled her to the elevator without saying a word.

Riding down in the little gold cage was a strange experience, and I kept glancing up nervously, wondering if the elevator was really safe. It looked at least a hundred years old, but we got to the ground floor in one piece, so I didn't complain.

Joelle burst through the door to the street like the Hulk, and Sarah and I exchanged a glance. Fighting back a giggle, I pointed to the coffee shop on the corner, but Joelle was way ahead of me. When we'd all ordered tiny cups of espresso, Joelle started to become a bit more human. She tossed back her coffee like a shot and her eyes opened.

“Damn, we really need to buy some coffee!”

I laughed. “I had no idea you were such a fiend.”

She nodded. “I work at a coffee shop back home, and my brother's always called me Cuppa Jo.”

Sarah leaned on the table. “This is the brother who just got married?”

Joelle nodded. “Right.”

I sipped my coffee, wondering if she were going to tell us more about the girl she'd met at the wedding, but she didn't.

Sarah sighed dreamily. “I love weddings.”

Joelle grinned. “This one was pretty spectacular. Petra—that's my brother's wife—had a fairy-tale dress, and the party afterward was a lot of fun.”

We finished our coffee in happy silence, but then Sarah pulled out a map. “If we're doing the museums today, we should have a plan.”

I nodded, leaning forward and trying to orient myself. “The Uffizi is my priority.”

Sarah nodded. “We should be able to do the paintings and the David, and still have time to explore. I'm dying to try real gelato!”

Wandering into the sunshine, I glanced at my companions. Even though I hadn't known them for long, it was nice not to be alone. Together, we chatted and laughed as we made our way through the streets of Florence to the first museum. Because it was early, we didn't have to wait in much of a line, and when we made it inside the Uffizi, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

I'd never seen so many beautiful medieval and Renaissance pieces in one place before. My eyes drank in the weeping angels, the frightened Marys, and the other religious images ranging from the beautiful to the deeply disturbing. And then we rounded a corner and I came face-to-face with Venus.

It seemed like every art class I'd ever been in had a picture of Botticelli's birth of Venus hanging in the room, but just because I'd seen the image reproduced dozens of times didn't mean I was prepared for how amazing it would be in person. I mean, intellectually, I knew that the painting was huge, but knowing that and then seeing it take up almost an entire wall were two different things.

“She's impressive,” Joelle whispered behind me.

I could only nod; I was too captivated to speak.

Joelle and Sarah were patient with me, but having them waiting for me was kind of distracting. Still, when I finally pulled my eyes away from the magnificent piece, I promised myself that I would come back: I'd found my new favorite work of art.

~

We took a break for lunch after we left the Uffizi, although Joelle's version of lunch was another cup of coffee and a pastry, and then we headed across Florence in search of the museum that housed the
David
.

“Why are you so hung up on it, anyway?” I asked as we walked.

Joelle shrugged. “It's famous art, right?”

Sarah nodded. “And it's supposed to be breathtakingly accurate.” She flushed as soon as she spoke, and I giggled.

“So you want to see it because it's ancient porn?”

Sarah looked horrified, but Joelle laughed. “She has a point, Sar; that's sort of what you said.”

“Well, it's not like we can come all the way to Florence and
not
see it, right?”

I grinned. “Wouldn't want to miss it.”

Joelle nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Especially if it's so accurate.”

Sarah shook her head. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

“No!” Joelle and I responded simultaneously, and after a moment, we all cracked up. Linking my arm through Sarah's, I gave her a gentle squeeze. “Let's find the naked man!”

“Naked men,” Joelle corrected, taking Sarah's other arm. “I'll bet the museum is full of them!”

We giggled until we got to the
Accademia delle Arti del Disegno. The museum
was a pleasant surprise; although Michelangelo's
David
was the centerpiece of the place, there was a great collection of other sculptures, too. I should have known that something that was started as an art school by the Medici back in the sixteenth century would be impressive, and I enjoyed looking at the different marble nudes that lined the corridors, especially the ones by Bartolini; it was like he'd captured real people in stone, right down to their personalities. How did sculptors manage to do that?

Sarah looked a little swoony when we finally made it to the main event, and I poked her in the ribs. “Did you find a new boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “Something about his face sort of reminds me of Carson.”

Joelle chuckled. “What, the blank stare?”

Sarah ignored her. “I think it's the nose.” She sighed heavily. “I still can't believe I'll never see him again.”

I reached over and squeezed her arm. “I'm sorry. But . . .” I struggled for a moment, trying to figure out a way to cheer her up. “There's more to life than guys, right?”

Sarah nodded slowly. “Right. I just haven't figured out what to do with mine.”

I nodded. “No one said we had to have everything figured out yet.”

Joelle snorted. “You must not have met my parents.”

“Okay, fine; our parents might think that,” I said, warming to the idea, “but seriously! We're young, we're single, and we're in Italy.” I paused, letting that sink in. “How many other girls get to say that?”

A slow smile spread across Sarah's face. “You know, you're right.”

“Of course, I'm right. Now, didn't you want to find some gelato?”

“Ice cream makes everything better,” Joelle offered with a grin as we left the museum.

It was way too hot to be walking around outside when we left the museum, so instead of hiking back to our apartment, we bought a couple of bottles of water and brightly colored cups of gelato from a tiny shop, and then we sat on a bench in a small piazza. The bench was shaded by an ancient tree, and despite the heat, it was a nice place to just sit.

“Everything feels different here,” Joelle commented, glancing around the quiet square.

“I know what you mean. It's almost like we're back in time.”

She shook her head slightly. “Maybe, but it's more than that. It just seems . . . slower or something. Like people don't have anywhere to be.”

Sarah tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “I love it. London was way too fast for me.”

I turned toward her, interested. “How'd you end up working there, anyway?”

Sarah was quiet for a minute. Finally, she looked up at the leaves above us. “Bad relationship with my dad, I guess.”

“Oh.” I hesitated. “Mom raised me and Susie alone.”

“Your sister?” Joelle asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. She's sixteen.”

Sarah sighed. “I always wanted a sister.”

I laughed. “You wouldn't say that if you'd met mine.”

Joelle nodded. “I know what you mean. My brother drives me nuts! I mean, I love him and everything, but still, he's crazy.”

When we'd finished the gelato, we ambled back toward the apartment, but before we got there, Joelle turned off on a side street. “It's my night to cook,” she reminded us. “I have to get groceries.”

Sarah and I nodded, and we walked in silence back to the apartment. Before we went inside, Sarah spoke. “I really think I loved him, Camie.”

I nodded. I didn't need to ask who she was thinking about; my own thoughts had drifted to Hunter more and more that afternoon. “Me, too.”

She sighed. “So what are we supposed to do now?”

“Move on, I guess. I mean, neither of us has any way to get in touch with them, do we? I don't even know Hunter's last name.”

“Me, neither. So I guess Internet stalking is out. And after what I said, I doubt he'd want to talk to me again, even if I could.” She paused. “I could always go back to London.”

“Yeah, you could. But wouldn't it be better to rip the Band-Aid off? I mean,” I floundered, “if it was meant to be, it would have worked out, right?”

She nodded pensively. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.”

I didn't want to be right, I realized. I wanted a second chance with Hunter, and I wanted Sarah to have her second chance, too. But that wasn't going to happen. “Just because I'm right doesn't mean this doesn't suck.”

“No,” she agreed, “I guess not.”

I gave her a quick hug. “Remember,” I said, forcing a smile, “We don't want to spend the whole time we're in Italy whining. I mean, come on, Sarah,
Italy
!”

Sarah's lips puckered, but then she started to smile. “You're right. Things are pretty spectacular when you put it that way.”

~

Joelle made my attempt at dinner the previous night look truly pathetic; somehow, she managed to whip together some kind of vegetable casserole thing that reminded me of a cross between potpie and a quesadilla. It was delicious, and once again, there weren't any leftovers. We'd killed off another big bottle of wine during dinner, and I was a little worried that I'd be paying for it in the morning when Joelle pushed her chair back and announced, “Who wants to go out?”

Sarah and I glanced at each other curiously. “Go where?”