Chapter Five #2
“I love Liam, but he had rose-colored glasses on last time too.” Henry sighs. “I mean, I love that about him. He sees the best in all of us. Anyway,” he says, flicking his paintbrush and a spray of gold at me, “can you believe this place?”
“I actually cannot,” I assure him.
It’s true—sunset is blazing across the endless sky, gold and red lighting up the heavens. It’s impossible to believe.
I let the view calm my racing brain, and for just a moment, the beauty of the world lulls it to quiet.
—
I will admit, I doubted Lucy’s ability to sneak the entire cohort out of our hotel for our last night in Athens. It seemed to me entirely implausible that she would manage to get us all out of there without Ms. Barlowe noticing.
But that’s because I forgot the first cardinal rule of rule breaking: Always trust Lucy.
She faked an almost-midnight emergency so she’d have an excuse to roam the hallways, and she texted the group chat when she confirmed that the coast was clear.
We left the hotel in pairs she pre-orchestrated so as not to alert the front desk that our entire school group had just left the premises, and we reconvened around the corner to make our way together to the nearest taverna.
The night air is still so warm, in a pleasant sort of way that feels absolutely antithetical to the New York City swamp summers I’m used to. The air is light and soft, a gentle heat that feels designed to be comfortable. We’ve all donned our finest summer wear for the occasion.
We make our way down our street, still lively this late into the night, until we reach a small taverna tucked into a corner. It’s full of people, which seems promising, and a waitress is willing to find space for our huge group, which is ultimately all we need.
We gather around a few pushed-together tables, and Bodhi—who’s been taking actual Greek lessons with a tutor while the rest of us lazily fumbled our way through Duolingo—orders for us. I catch only half of what he says, but it’s enough to understand that he’s gotten way too much food.
We swap our highlights of our time in Athens until our waitress returns, bearing so many plates of steaming meat, fish, and vegetables, it makes my stomach ache just to take in the sight.
“To our last night in Athens,” Lucy says as we all take our first bites. “And to the rest of this trip. May it be fabulous. And bonding.” She says this last part with a pointed look at Amalia, who tilts her eyes upward. “And very romantic, so we can all live our Mamma Mia! dreams.”
For this last part, Lucy looks right at me. It’s my turn to roll my eyes.
Instead of answering, I serve myself a heaping pile of horta, a dish of cooked leafy greens simmering in lemon juice. Like everything we’ve ordered, it’s simple and straightforward, and I delight in the fresh crunch of the vegetables as I take my first bite.
“What if we all focused on our projects?” Henry mutters to me.
See? This is why I love him.
“Couldn’t agree more,” I say, nodding to Lucy.
She waves me off with her fork, bearing a juicy bite of bifteki. “You’re being too secretive about your project for me to care about that.”
“I’m not being secretive,” I say. “I simply have no idea what I’m doing.”
Lucy laughs at this. “Okay, fair enough. All the more reason to focus on romance.”
“All the more reason to focus on my project, probably,” I argue.
She shakes her head but digs into her food without arguing further.
“I have updates on the romance front,” Amalia says with a grin.
George huffs disbelievingly. “Really?”
Lucy drums her fingertips against one another, looking at Amalia expectantly.
“Well, I met this adorable guy at the museum, because I”—she pauses to give me a pointed look, and I narrow my eyes at her playfully—“know how to understand an assignment. And I had the most romantic date of my life last night.”
Everyone at the table coos—except George, who rolls his eyes—as Amalia details her date. Her mystery man is a student at the University of Athens, and he showed her a rooftop terrace with a perfect view of the Acropolis at night.
At this, Liam shoots me a wide-eyed look.
I can read right through the teasing grin plastered on his stupid face.
See? It’s where locals take tourists on dates, it whispers.
I pretend I have no idea what he’s trying to say, and I turn my attention instead to the horiatiki that’s just made its way around the table to me.
I’ve had Greek salad before, of course, but the freshness of these ingredients hits different here.
I’m willing to pick my way around the feta if it means access to the juiciest tomato and crispest cucumber I’ve ever had in my life.
And don’t even get me started on the olives.
“That’s cheating. Some of us are simply not suave enough to find dates at the museum,” I point out.
“If only those people had romance options, like, right under their noses,” Lucy says, and I aim a soft kick at her under the table.
“I think Bodhi and I should date,” Liam says.
They tried this last year and, after three weeks of goofiness, decided they were made to be friends. Bodhi pretends to lean in for a kiss, and we all laugh.
“You wish,” Bodhi says, tossing his long hair. “I’m taken and cannot participate in your summer games.”
Lucy latches on to his arm and immediately begins pressing him for details, because the girl has no chill. I interest myself in finding the bottom of my plate of fried calamari. I was skeptical about the whole squid thing, but it took exactly one bite to convert me to the official biggest fan.
“So, what do we have to do to get you to date?” Lucy asks me when Bodhi finishes telling us about his new girlfriend, who he met touring a college campus in the spring. “I need to see it happen.”
“I’ll say,” Liam mutters. I shoot him a murderous look.
“I’m not interested in dating,” I say. This should be fair. This should be enough to shut down the conversation. Why do they keep pushing it?
“You’re not interested in this summer being the best of your life? In finding your first love in the most romantic place on earth?”
And she’s not wrong. But what business is it of hers?
“Okay,” I say, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Fine. I’ll find summer love.”
Lucy cheers, punching two fists into the air.
“On three conditions.”
Her fists plop back onto the table. “No fair.”
“Yes fair,” I say. “It’s my romance. I should get to set the conditions, and you have to agree.”
Lucy sighs. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Tell us the three conditions.”
“One,” I say, holding up a finger, “she must make me feel at home while showing me new places.”
This feels delightfully contradictory and wholly subjective. How can any of them prove that someone made me feel that way?
“Easy,” Lucy says. “We’re literally in a foreign country. Next.”
I hold up a second finger. “She has to make me feel like myself while pushing me to grow.”
It’s impossible to feel this way, I imagine.
Amalia waves this off. “That’s how any good love feels.”
This throws me. It is?
I stare at her for a moment, trying to process her words. None of these conditions are filling them with the kind of hopelessness I was hoping to inspire. I need something so out of reach, they’ll decide to give up right here and right now.
The idea comes to me in a flash, and I grin as I raise my third finger.
“She has to beat me in a footrace.”
This is met with a chorus of booing, and I know I’ve won. Just like I won every track meet this year—and set a new school record for fastest time in the hundred-meter sprint.
There’s no way they’ll find someone who can do all three. And they know it.