The first chance I have to come up for air, away from Noah, is when I set off with the group of students for the market. Noah and I leave St. Cecilia’s at the same time, heading in different directions.
I look over my shoulder and give him a little wave.
When I turn back around, Kylie is smiling cockily, like she’s just solved her case. I let her enjoy her victory.
When we arrive, the farmer’s market is already bustling with people, but it’s lacking the usual madness we’ve experienced at other tourist spots in Rome. Everyone seems content to be enjoying their Sunday morning, strolling slowly along with no real goal in mind. The sun is still creeping up overhead, half-blocked by a building so that we can enjoy the shade and slightly cooler temperatures while we’ve got them. The crowd is dense enough that I keep a close watch on my small group of Lindale girls, but they’re not prone to wander. We stick together, sampling every bit of cheese and fruit we can get our hands on. I buy us a few sandwiches on freshly baked ciabatta bread and then we stop to peruse a table filled with dainty jewelry.
The artisan is selling beaded bracelets that only cost five euros each, so I can’t resist buying the girls matching ones.
“Four please,” I say, holding up the cash.
“Five,” Lizzy insists, grabbing one more of the bracelets. “You need one too!”
My little teacher heart grows three sizes.
When we pass a table overloaded with chocolate confections, I think of last night and Noah’s and my failed pursuit of a second cannoli. The absurdity of it strikes me all over again. I decide I can’t go back to St. Cecilia’s emptyhanded. This will be our consolation prize. I get two bags filled with assorted chocolates. One to share while we’re here and one to take back to the States.
When we get back to the school, we set up a movie in the common area off the porch: Roman Holiday with Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, a classic none of the kids have seen and perfect given our location. I’ve seen it so many times and know exactly how it ends, but it’s still hard to watch Ann (Hepburn) and Joe (Peck) realize their fledgling love can’t last and their time spent running around Rome together—while passionate—was only a sweet respite from real life, not a lasting love affair. When Ann tells him, “I don’t know how to say goodbye,” we all have tears in our eyes. They share one last kiss and Joe sadly watches Ann go, never once asking her to stay with him. He knows she can’t.
When the credits roll, Millie looks over at me, her bottom lip wobbling. “He just…just let her leave!”
Alice throws herself back dramatically on the couch. “I thought it was going to have a happy ending! Oh my god, I’m so depressed.”
“Ann had the holiday of a lifetime,” I point out.
“But…but they loved each other so much. I want them to be together forever!” Lizzy says, swiping under her eyes.
“What if they never find that sort of chemistry again? What if they threw away their one chance at happiness?”
Dissecting the movie’s plot through the eyes of a bunch of thirteen-year-olds makes it all seem so much more complicated. Maybe they’re right. Maybe Joe should have fought to stay with Ann and make it work. It would have been hard, but who knows, they could have found real happiness together.
I explain this all to Noah later as we’re sitting side by side on his bed, post-sex, eating our way through the farmer’s market chocolates.
To him, it’s black and white.
“She’s the princess of some European country, isn’t she? She can’t just up and leave her royal duties for a chance fling with an American heartthrob. Who, by the way, was lying to her about being a journalist the whole time if I remember correctly.”
I bristle at his cavalier tone.
“So you think he did the right thing, just letting her go like that?”
He’s busy tearing open a foil-wrapped chocolate, barely taking this seriously. “It’s the only way.”
I yank the chocolate out of his hand and drop it back into the bag with the others. Already, I’m scooting off the bed.
“I see how it is. Have a fling in Rome, make the girl fall in love, and then send her on her merry way.”
“What?”
I search about for my shorts. “It’s all fun and games, right? Bag the princess, check it off your list, head home to America. Easy-peasy.”
“Ohhh…this was a test. I get it. I’m Gregory Peck?”
He’s grinning now. He finds my lunacy so damn amusing.
“No!” I find my shorts and start to yank them on. It’s not easy, of course, because I don’t want to let go of the chocolates.
Noah’s up and off the bed now, taking my shorts and tossing them clear across the room. They land on top of his laptop. Then he takes my hips in his hands and pushes me slowly back toward the door of his closet, pinning me in place. “You think I’m going to up and leave you at the airport when we fly back to the States? Check you off my list? Nice knowin’ ya?”
I look away. “I…hadn’t considered that as a possibility until today.”
This is what I get for listening to a bunch of teenagers with raging hormones. I wasn’t worried about the future of my relationship with Noah until we watched that damn movie.
“You’re right,” he says, nuzzling my neck with his nose, trying to get me to lift my chin so he can press a kiss to the sensitive skin just below my ear. “Gregory Peck is an idiot. Should have fought for Ann until his dying breath. I’ll contact Paramount and see about changing the ending of the film.”
I’m smiling now, despite my annoyance. I want to hang on to my anger. With him, it used to be so easy, but now it seems to melt away with a simple kiss.
His hands tighten on my hips.
“I’ll make it all official for us. I’ll buy you flowers and write a note and slip it underneath your classroom door. Will you be my girlfriend, Audrey Cohen? Please say yes.”
His lips are teasing mine now. He can taste my smile. He knows how I feel about him.
We can’t keep our hands off each other.
We’re like this the entire last week in Rome.
Of course, with the kids, during the day, out on excursions, we’re professional. We wear our teacher hats and keep our distance. I spritz children with sunscreen, hand sanitizer, bug spray. I remind them to wash their hands, to use the bathroom, to use good manners. I make sure they’re fed and on time for Latin and tucked into their beds at night. When we tour the Colosseum, and Santa Maria Maggiore, and the Castel Sant'Angelo National Museum, I encourage them to pay attention to the tour guides, to soak up the last few sites in Rome because we’ll be leaving soon. There’s an awareness that creeps in toward the end of the week. A countdown begins. This is one of the last meals we’ll have in the dining hall. This is our last excursion. This is my last chance to take a walk in the morning, by myself, and enjoy my favorite café, my favorite bookstore.
The kids have finally found a footing here. Their homesickness has subsided and they’ve gotten the lay of the land just in time to realize what a rare and wonderful opportunity they’ve had to be in Rome these last few weeks.
“I wish we could stay forever,” Millie tells me on Thursday as we stroll through the city streets after dinner. Noah and I are out with all the Lindale students. Our goal is to find a gelato shop, but we walk slowly as the sun sets, taking our time, looking in store windows, people-watching, taking pictures.