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of my purity.
    Emptiness is its own kind of delicious.
    Climbing back into bed, sleep finally beckons and I drift into a peaceful slumber.

Chapter Nine
    Lorenzo
    The next time I see her, the brunette I mean, is at Angelina’s. She comes into the restaurant midday, a backpack slung over her shoulder. Ah, so classes have started. One earbud dangles from her ear as she drops her backpack on a chair and occupies the same table she previously ate at with her friend.
    “Ciao,” I greet her warmly.
    “Ciao.” She smiles, her face changing from unsure to beautiful in an instant. “Un caffé latte, per favore. Con … skim milk?”
    I nod. “Va bene. Latte scremato.”
    “Oh, okay. Grazie.” She nods, pulling out a tiny notebook, writing the translation down.
    I stifle a chuckle. She’s cute. Clearly smart and really trying to use her Italian while she’s in Rome. Might as well help her out.
    “And something sweet to enjoy with your caffé?” I ask, pronouncing my Italian slowly so she can grasp it.
    “No grazie.” She shakes her head.
    I retreat back into the restaurant, quickly making her a caffé latte. At the last moment, I add a leftover cornetto from breakfast. Mama hates throwing away food and all girls love sweets, right?
    She’s hunched forward, elbows resting on the table, her palms propping up her forehead, reading a textbook. Her eyes scan the pages quickly, her lips make hushed murmurs as she mouths the words she’s reading. Lost in thought, she barely glances up as I approach her table.
    When I set the caffé and cornetto down next to her notebook, her eyes flash up to meet mine.
    She smiles shyly. “Grazie.” She takes the caffé in one hand, pulling it closer to her chest and wrapping her fingers around the cup. “It’s okay.” She shakes her head, pushing the plate with the cornetto back in my direction.
    I laugh. She’s modest. Sweet. “No, it’s for you.” I wink, turning back into the restaurant.
    I watch her from the kitchen, her head bent low over her book. Every now and then she scribbles furiously in her notebook. Occasionally, she highlights a line or two in the textbook. Her forehead wrinkles slightly when something confounds her, but for the most part her reading is quick and efficient, her lips moving rapidly.
    She sips her caffé slowly, enjoying it. At one point, her eyes close as she inhales the strong aroma and a small smile flits across her lips. She eyes the cornetto warily. Reaching out hesitantly, she breaks off one end and takes a small bite, nibbling the pastry slowly. She brushes the crumbs from her hands and sighs, pushing the small plate farther away.
    Moments later, her friends pass by, their backpacks and shoulder bags laden with books and binders. They call out to her, and she looks up and smiles, waving a greeting. The blonde from last time approaches her table and leans over, whispering in her ear. I watch as she tips her head back and laughs, the delicate sound washing over the patio. She nods in agreement to something the blonde said and sets some euros on the table. She packs up her textbook and notes and turns to leave the patio. At the last moment she turns around and her eyes catch mine. She smiles warmly, her face lightening. “Grazie mille.”
    “Prego,” I call back, taking a step out of the restaurant. “Ci vediamo domani?” I ask her. Please say I’ll see you tomorrow.
    She nods once, her smile widening, and turns to join her friends.
    I watch her as she walks away, her back growing smaller, her purple backpack thumping against her shoulders with each step. She’s younger than me. Still in school. And yet there’s something there, something about her that I can’t place. It’s almost like wisdom, a flicker of loneliness in her chocolate eyes, a sadness in the curve of her lips, a seriousness in her demeanor, something that speaks to her maturity. She’s intriguing as hell. And that is very surprising.

Chapter Ten
    Mia
    “Ciao! Siamo qui!”