What Happens Abroad (8 page)

I hesitated. Did I really need to keep running around Europe? Travel hadn't helped me escape my problems yet, and I wasn't sure it would. But I nodded my head anyway.
What the hell
. “Sure. Let's do it.”

Joelle grinned. “I need a change of scenery. Florence is cool, but . . .” she trailed off, and I wondered if Joelle was as antsy as I was.

“When do we leave?”

“Let's go tomorrow. I want as much time on the beach as possible.”

Maybe a weekend at the beach would change my attitude. If nothing else, it might be a welcome distraction to get me out of my head and help me stop feeling sorry for myself. If I didn't stop moping soon, I realized I might waste the summer, and I wasn't about to let that happen.

We were up the next morning at the ass crack of dawn, and I didn't pay much attention to anything as we walked to the train station. Joelle had already had three cups of coffee, so she was alert enough to buy the tickets and steer us onto the right train. Sarah fell asleep as soon as we sat down, and soon she was snoring gently.

I stared out the dirty window, watching the countryside go by and occasionally snapping pictures with my camera. Even as hot as it was, the fields we passed were lush and green. When the girls weren't looking, I caught a couple shots of them, too, lit from behind and looking like otherworldly creatures. We had to change trains at Pisa, but Joelle double-checked the tickets and figured out which train we were supposed to be on right as it let out a warning blast with its horn. When the train finally deposited us on the platform at Cinque Terre, I was getting antsy.

“Where's the beach?”

Joelle laughed. “That way,” she said, pointing to a blue sign that said
SPIAGGIA
.

I looked at her. “You know Italian?”

She shrugged. “No. I looked it up in the guidebook.”

Sarah laughed. “You're always prepared.”

Joelle grinned. “Right now, all I'm prepared to do is lay out in the sun.” She inhaled deeply. “I swear, I can already taste the salty air.”

We walked along a footpath, following the handful of other people who had gotten off the train with us. “So, what's Cinque Terre mean, anyway?” I asked.

“Something like “Five Lands,” I think. There are supposed to be five little hilltop villages here, near the beach.” Joelle glanced back over her shoulder. “It might be fun to go sightseeing later.”

I nodded. “Right now, I just want to get my toes in the sand. At least it's warmer than Nice!”

We crested a hill, and the crystal-blue water of the Mediterranean stretched out in front of us. Sarah grinned. “It's perfect!” she whispered reverently.

I totally agreed with her. Just the sight of the blue water had already made me feel better than I had in a long time.

Joelle pointed down to the beach. “Look!”

Huge striped beach umbrellas, like something off of a turn-of-the-century postcard, littered the beach. I took a couple of quick shots with my camera as we began to climb down toward the water, slipping and skidding on the sandy, rocky soil.

We rented three beach chairs and one umbrella, got changed in the tiny bathhouse, and then claimed our spot beside the water. Sarah slathered sunscreen all over her pale, freckled arms, and she passed the tube to me.

“Thank you,” I said, putting a little on my face. I glanced at the bottle; SPF 55. I didn't want to get burned, but I obviously wanted to get more of a tan than Sarah was looking for. I passed the bottle back to her without putting any on my body. Joelle didn't use any of the sun screen, either.

Sarah shook her head. “You guys are going to bake.”

Joelle shrugged. “I'm going in the water. I'll put the sunscreen on when I dry off.” She stood up and glanced at me. “Either of you want to come?”

The bright blue water was inviting, so I nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

I stood up, tugging on the ties on my bikini bottoms, and followed Joelle toward the Mediterranean. When I first walked in, the water was almost cold, and I shrieked involuntarily.

Joelle laughed. “It gets warmer; come on!” She waded out to her hips, and I followed her. She was right. The farther into the beautiful water I went, the warmer it felt. I wondered if that first cold moment had been my imagination. The warm water lapped around my knees, tickling my legs, and I grinned at Joelle.

“God, this is perfect!”

She laughed and flicked some water at me. “Isn't it?”

I splashed her back, and it didn't take long for us to have a massive splash war going on. A couple of the other swimmers joined in, and I was laughing hysterically when I took a step forward and plunged under. I pushed myself to the surface, spluttering, and Joelle swam over.

“It gets deep fast; watch it!”

I tried to splash her again, but it was hard while I was treading water. My eyes stung from the salt, but now that I'd been submerged, I leaned back against the gentle swells, floating. The buoyancy felt different than when I'd been swimming before, even the couple of times when Mom had taken Susie and me to Atlantic City when we were kids. Sarah and I had sat on the beach at Nice despite the rain, but we'd never gone in the water. “Even the water feels different,” I commented, staring up at the aqua sky.

Joelle's voice was muffled by the waves. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

I scooped water over my stomach. “It's almost magical. Like it can wash away everything that's worrying you.”

“So, what all is worrying you?”

I straightened up, kicking my feet gently. Joelle was hovering in the water a few feet away from me, watching me with a serious expression.

“Money,” I said, exhaling slowly, “and guys.”

She laughed. “Neither of those things sound life changing.”

I shook my head. “I don't have the money to stay in art school. Maybe I should just drop out.”

Joelle stopped paddling, and the water around us settled into stillness. “What?”

“Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything.” Feeling too exposed, I turned and headed toward the beach. Joelle may have been my travel buddy, but she was still practically a stranger.

“Camie, wait!” I heard her splash behind me, but I didn't look back. I swam back toward the shore, wishing I hadn't said anything to spoil the morning. I was back in my beach chair, dripping through the mesh, when Joelle got out of the sea.

She sat down in her chair and shook out her short dark hair. “Camie, do you want to talk about it?”

Sarah peeped out from behind her sunglasses. “What's going on?”

I shrugged, lying back in the lounge chair. “Just something stupid. I don't want to dump on you guys.”

Joelle propped herself up on her hand. “Camie, that's what friends are for. If we can't help you through the bad times, what's the point of hanging out when things are good?”

Sarah nodded. “Are you thinking about Hunter again?”

I shook my head, surprised. “No.”

“Camie says she can't pay for school.”

Sarah looked at me. “I can't, either. The most money I've ever seen in my life came from nannying.”

Her honest admission surprised me. “Then why are you traveling around Europe?”

She stared back at me with her bright blue eyes. “Why are you?”

I shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” After another moment's hesitation, I told them the whole story. Everything about Jim and the scholarship, about academic probation and my student loans. Sarah covered her mouth when I told them how I'd borrowed extra to be able to afford the summer trip to Europe.

“And now I don't even know if it's worth it to go back to school. I mean, how will I ever dig out of this hole? It's not like you can make much money with art.”

“You don't know that,” Sarah began quietly. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

The idea of working as a professional artist had been growing in my mind, ever since Hunter had asked me almost the exact same question in Paris. “I want to sell my art. I don't know, maybe in a gallery or something. But people can't live like that.”

“Why not? You haven't even tried yet.” Joelle said. “At least you have something you're passionate about. I have no idea what I'm going to do after school.”

Sarah nodded. “Me, neither. And school isn't even an option for me.”

I looked at her curiously. “Why not?”

She hesitated. “Money, for one thing,” she finally said.

I was surprised. Sometimes, it felt like I was the only one in the world who worried about paying for school and stuff. “What else?”

Sarah shrugged. “What does it matter? If I can't afford it, there's no point. I made enough as a nanny to travel, but the money will run out eventually, and then I'd better come up with a plan.”

I sighed and sat back. “It sucks, doesn't it?”

Sarah nodded, but Joelle answered. “It doesn't have to. So what if we're confused? Nobody said we had to have it all figured out.”

“My mom did,” Sarah and I spoke simultaneously, and we both started to giggle.

Joelle waved her hands in the air. “Like they had it so figured out when they were our age! Actually,” she hesitated, thinking, “I think my mom may have already been pregnant with Charlie when she was twenty.”

I shuddered. “I can't imagine that.”

“I could,” Sarah spoke quietly, and Joelle and I both stared at her. She looked at the two of us, confused, and then panic stole across her face. “Oh God, no! I'm not pregnant or anything.” She paused. “Oh God, what if I am?”

Joelle slapped her leg. “Sweetie, stop making up things to worry about. You guys were safe, right?”

Sarah nodded slowly, her face pinched, and I exhaled loudly. Joelle studied us for a moment, and then she hopped up.

“You guys need cheering up. It's time for an attitude adjustment.” She grabbed her bag and marched off across the sand, and Sarah and I watched, mystified, as she went back to the beach hut where we'd rented our chairs.

I turned to Sarah. “I didn't know about all that.”

She shrugged. “I didn't know your stuff, either.”

“It'll work out somehow, right?”

She shrugged again. “I hope so, but most days, it doesn't feel like I'm doing anything but stalling. I mean, how is this trip going to help me figure out what I want to do with my life?”

I nodded. “Sometimes I think I should just give up and go home.”

Sarah shook her head. “I can't even do that.” She paused, considering. “My dad—”

Before she could finish her thought, Joelle reappeared, carrying three bottles of golden beer with limes stuck in the tops.

“All right, negative Nellies. It's time for us to remember how awesome it is that we're sitting on a friggin' beach in Italy right now!” She passed me a beer and handed one to Sarah. Lifting hers in the air, Joelle waited for us to do the same. After a beat, we did, and she grinned. “That's more like it. Here's to this perfect moment!”

We clinked bottles, and I almost smiled. I looked out at the water. It really was perfect.

We decided to stay in Cinque Terre for one night, and after a second day of lying on the beach, drinking beer, and talking about inconsequential things, we dragged our tired selves back to the train station as the sun was beginning its afternoon descent.

“God, I am SO sunburned!” I complained, resisting the urge to scratch my flaming shoulders.

Sarah shook her head. “I told you to wear the sunscreen.”

“I've never been burned like this! I feel like a lobster.”

Joelle grinned. “You sort of look like one, too.” Her tan skin was a shade or two darker, but she didn't seem to be burned. Sarah's nose was a little pink, but no one else had suffered as much as I had. I didn't want to look in a mirror for a week; I probably had raccoon marks from my sunglasses.

The train ride back to Florence was uncomfortable. Because of my taut skin, I was acutely aware of the scratchy seat fabric, and I couldn't find a position that didn't press on some part of my burned flesh. The Zen-like calm and beer buzz I'd had at the beach had both totally vanished by the time the train rolled into the station back in Florence. I winced as I pulled my bag over my shoulder, gritting my teeth as the strap bit into my burn.

Sarah smiled at me sympathetically. “Maybe we can find some aloe or something on the way home.”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. There wasn't any in the little shop at the beach; why would there be any in Florence? Clearly,” I said snarkily, “people in Italy never get sunburned.”

Joelle chuckled. “Poor baby. Maybe you can take a cool bath or something?”

Before I could answer, a tall guy backed into me, his head craned up to read the clock on the train station wall.

“Ouch! Watch it!” I wasn't in any mood to be polite, but when the guy turned around, the room started to spin. Recognition dawned on his face, and I took a step back, stunned.

“Hunter?”

He reached his arms for me, but then he dropped them awkwardly to his sides. His smile was a little crooked, but his eyes were the same warm hazel eyes I remembered, and they looked bright. “I can't believe it!”

I shook my head. “What are you doing here?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Well, I guess I was”—he cleared his throat—“I wanted to find you, Camie.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You came all the way to Italy for that? But you might not have found me,” I said, stupidly.

He grinned. “The universe was looking out for me!”

Joelle appeared at my side. “Camie, are you okay? We were outside before we realized you weren't behind us.” She glanced at Hunter, and then back at me.