Again, But Better

7. Never Mind
I find Babe sitting on her bed, watching an animated movie on
her computer. She looks up as the door closes behind me. Out
the creeper window, I see Sahra on the couch in the kitchen,
talking to her laptop.
“Hey!” Babe exclaims.
“Hey! Whatchya watching?”
“
Ratatouille
!” She’s smiling ear to ear.
“Never saw that one.”
“You never saw 
Ratatouille
? It’s so cute!”
I drag a chair up to Babe’s bed, so we can properly chat.
“Did you know that Pilot has an album on iTunes?”
“What? I didn’t even know he made music!” She
minimizes 
Ratatouille
and pulls iTunes up on her computer. I
scoot over so I can look on.
“Is it under his name?” She starts typing in Pilot Penn.
“No, it’s under Swing Bearers.”
“Swing Bearers!” She giggles. “Ah! I love it.” She types it
into the search box and taps the enter key. We watch in
suspense as the internet loads. An album called 
Porcelain
Trampoline
pops up, purchasable for $6.99.
“Oh my gosh, it’s real!” I laugh.
“Seven bucks? Heck yes!” Babe clicks the buy button.

---

We spend the next hour listening to the Swing Bearers
while we sit on our computers. I like it. It has a relaxed, jazzy,
vintage feel. When it comes time to get ready for the pub, I
switch the music selection over to Britney Spears. Sahra
comes back to the room, and we all get a little more dressed
up. I change into my favorite skirt—a black high-waisted one
with buttons—and a crop top with a blue-eyed tiger on it.
Nothing too fancy, but more so than the jeans and blue New
York T-shirt I was wearing on my walk with Pilot earlier.
The five of us sit around a circular table in the Queen’s Head
pub. I’m halfway through my first legal ordered-at-a-bar
alcoholic drink: a glass of red wine. I dislike wine less than I
dislike any other alcohol, so in the spirit of trying new things,
I’ve decided to give it a chance. People say wine is an
acquired taste, so I’m working on acquiring it.
Pilot, Atticus, and Babe are on their second Guinnesses,
and Sahra’s almost done with her glass of red wine. She’s
telling us about her boyfriend, Val, and how much her family
loves him. They took him with them last summer to Lebanon.
When the conversation dies down, Pilot suggests we play a
drinking game called 21 that I’ve never heard of, but turns out
to be amazing. We cackle our way through the entire game.
Everyone gets to make all sorts of random rules that correlate
with the numbers between one and twenty-one. Babe creates a
ridiculous one that has us all standing up and rotating to the
chair on our right. Every round sends us moving around the
table like we’re performing some weird, poorly choreographed
dance, and every time we get up to rotate, we start laughing
uncontrollably. My abs are sore when we finish.
“Have you guys used Skype to call home yet?” Sahra asks,
as we sober up from the game. “You can purchase minutes,
and then use them to call the US, instead of spending a million
dollars on your phone. It’s great. I’ve been talking to Val on it
because the internet for video-chatting kinda sucks here.”

---

“I guess I should do that,” I pipe in. “I still haven’t actually
spoken to my parents since I got here. I’ve never used Skype
before, but I’ve heard legends,” I add dramatically. “It can’t be
too difficult, right?”
“How have you never used Skype?” Pilot says in disbelief.
Babe laughs. “It’s super-easy—my parents can do it. We
have a Skype date tomorrow afternoon, to talk about the Rome
trip.”
“Yeah, you’ll be fine. It’s self-explanatory,” Sahra adds
with a smile.
I smile back happily (Sahra smiles are rare) and take
another small sip of my wine. I try not to wince as the
sourness coats my tongue.
“I Skyped with my parents earlier,” Atticus says. “Which
reminds me, did you get to Skype your girlfriend, Pilot? Sorry
I was on the phone for so long.” Time slows.
I blink.
Um. What.
What does he mean,