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last year. When else am I going to be living so close to other European countries? Italy! I’ve been taking Italian classes since I was fourteen. I could go to Italy.
    Pilot’s gaze has fallen on me. I feel it before I see it, becausewhen you like someone, you develop a superpower that enables you to subconsciously hone in on all their movements.
    They can rotate to face you all the way across the room, and the second it happens, you know: They’re facing me from across the room, ON GUARD!
    With a deep breath, I meet Pilot’s eyes. “Yeah, I really want to go to Italy,” I tell him as our waitress distributes waters around thetable.
    “Let’s go this weekend, then!” he responds immediately.
    My jaw drops.
    “Oh my gosh, yes!” Babe chimes in.
    This weekend? But that’s, like, now. We literally got here yesterday.
    “I’m on board with this,” Sahra adds, picking up her water and taking a sip.
    I fumble for words. “Like, go to Rome—for the weekend?” I ask in disbelief.
    “Rome for the weekend,” Pilot echoes confidently. I blinkat him.
    “Okay!” I blurt.
    “Rome for the weekend!” Babe raises her glass of water to toast. We all join her, clinking our glasses.
    “You guys are going to have an amazing time!” Atticus cheers.
    I take a big gulp of my water and drop the glass back to the table. Across from me, Pilot jumps like someone pinched him.
    “Whoa.” He holds his hands up in front of him.
    I raise my eyebrows. “Whoa, what?”
    “Don’t murder the glass!”
    My head twitches to the left. “What do you mean, murder the glass? It’s fine.”
    “Take a drink again.”
    I eye him suspiciously and slowly raise the glass off the table. I take a quick sip and drop it back down. An amused smile breaks across his face. Babe’s starts laughing.
    “What?” I demand.
    “He’s right!” She giggles.
    “What are you talking about?” I laugh.
    “You slamyour glass down,” Babe explains. “Like a sailor after he chugs a beer!”
    “I don’t…” I pick up my glass and take a sip again, concentrating now. I drop the glass back down, and it makes a loud thunk as it hits the wood. My breath whooshes out in surprise. I’ve never paid any attention to it. Realization must dawn on my face because across the table Pilot’s silently chuckling.
    “I…” I start, bewildered.“I didn’t even realize. Are your cups, like, silent?”
    Pilot picks up his glass. His eyes lock with mine as he brings it to his mouth, drinks, and puts the glass back on the table. It barely makes a sound. “It’s all in the technique,” he says. “Be chill. Be Zen.”
    Next to him, Babe takes a drink and puts down her glass experimentally. It makes a muffled clunk.
    “See? There, she’s got it,” he says,pointing to Babe.
    I pick up my glass and sip again. I watch Pilot with narrowed eyes as I lower it back to the table at snail speed. It makes a small sound as it comes back into contact with the wood. He grins.
    “Was that to your satisfaction?” I inquire with a melodramatic flourish.
    He squints at me. “With a few months’ practice—”
    I cut him off with a scoff, and he breaks into laughter.

6. Nothing’s Standing in My Way
    Last night we bought plane tickets to Rome! Two more nights until we go to Italy!
    We all start class today. None of my flatmates are in class with me, so as I settle into my seat, I feel like a bit of a loner again, but then the professor struts in. The first thing he does is distribute postcards, one to each student.
    “So, as you know, this isn’t going tobe our normal meeting day. Starting next week, class is Monday and Friday,” he begins. “We’re going to be delving into creative writing prompts every class, and to warm you up, get your juices flowing, each class you’re going to get a postcard. Write to someone back in America about your experiences here. It’s simple, easy, and effectively gets you putting words to paper. You have ten minutes. Takeout a pen and