Again, But Better

6. What a Lovely Night
Babe tugs at my arm, pulling me back as we make our way
through the Rome airport. I slow my pace to match hers. We
trail a healthy distance behind Pilot and Sahra.
“Shane!” she stage-whispers. “What happened on the
plane? I saw you move to the seat next to Pilot. You made
someone switch?”
Shit, I forgot I’m not invisible. “Oh, um, yeah, I needed to
talk to him.”
“Is something going on between you two?”
“Ah…” I run through potential excuses as to why I would
have had to sit next to Pilot: 
I found out he stole my wallet
. 
I
accidentally stole his wallet. I lost my wallet, and I thought he
might know where my wallet was
.
“Umm…” 
Maybe he needed a piece of gum. Something
with gum?
“Gum!”
“Gum?” she repeats skeptically.
“He lost his gum. And I had gum, and he wanted a piece.”
“You made a woman switch seats so you could give Pilot a
piece of gum?”
“I, yeah.”
“How did you know he needed gum?”
“I … looked over and saw that he wasn’t chewing any.”
“You didn’t ask me if I’d like gum.”

---

“Uh—”
“Shane, is something going on between you two?” Babe
demands.
I make a split-second decision. “Um, kind of.”
“Oh my god,” she gasps. “Are you serious? Are you like
—”
“No! I mean, I don’t know. It’s so new so nothing’s
happened yet, but something’s kind of happening, a little,” I
ramble. This way, when we need a few moments alone to be
mysterious time travelers and look for the dubious button,
maybe Babe will more easily give us some space.
She juts her chin forward, eyes doubling in size.
“I, um, I’ll keep you updated. I don’t know what it is yet,”
I fumble.
“Please do! Oh Mylanta! This is insane. He has a
girlfriend!” she exclaims quietly.
My stomach drops. 
Crap
. I’m too worried about the damn
button to remember the girlfriend. Backtrack. “Yeah, no, I’m
exaggerating. Nothing’s happened, so don’t worry about it.”
“But something might happen?” she inquires dramatically.
“No, I mean, it’s just a stupid crush I have on him, that’s it.
He’s not available. Nothing’s happening.”
“But I think he might also have a thing for you!” she
continues. Up ahead, Pilot throws a glance back in our
direction.
“Whaaat!” I say dismissively.
“Yeah, I’ve caught him looking at you a bunch of times
these past few days.”
Pilot throws another look this way, clearly trying to get my
attention.
“Look, he’s doing it right now, Shane!”

---

“Shhhhh!” I exclaim. Babe chuckles as we power walk to
catch up with the other half of our group.
When I’m on his right, Pilot turns to me. “Do you think we
have to search the airport?”
“No.” I glance around. “This isn’t Rome; this is the
airport,” I answer conclusively. We cannot search an entire
airport for 
a button.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I echo.
I grin as our bags thump to the floor of the inn. This room’s
just as happy and colorful as I remember.
“Shall we food?” I suggest eagerly.
“Yeah, definitely, but first, I kind of want to explore the
Colosseum. We just drove by it. It’s got to be super-close,”
Sahra proposes.
“Oh my gosh, let’s! We can get some great pictures,” Babe
adds, digging the camera out of her bag.
“You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you out there. I need to
make a call,” Pilot says quickly. He plops down onto a bed.
“Okay,” Sahra agrees easily. She looks to Babe and me.
“I’m gonna head out and look around. I’ll be right outside.”
She picks up her purse and marches out the door.
“You need to make a call?” I shoot Pilot a confused look as
I sling my pack off the floor and back onto my shoulder.
“Do we even have service here?” Babe asks.
Pilot raises his eyebrows pointedly. I drop my bag back to
the floor.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll stay behind too. You shouldn’t be
walking around alone in a foreign city.” Pilot scoffs.

---

“Maybe we should just all wait, then,” Babe adds. She
glances anxiously from me to Pilot and back to the door. I give
her an it’s-fine-go-on nod. She doesn’t move.
“It’s fine, go ahead,” I encourage her forcefully. “We’ll be
right there.”
“Shane,” she says with concern.
“Babe.” I shoot her another look.
“Okay. I guess we’ll meet you at the Colosseum.” Babe
backs out of the room, wearing an extremely mom-like
expression. The door closes very slowly behind her.
I turn back to Pilot. He’s already on the floor, rummaging
under his bed.
“Pies, don’t we want to eat before we go tearing the room
apart?” I put my hands on my hips. He’s prying around near
Babe and Sahra’s bed now.
“Shane, this is important. Come on, let’s find this thing.”
His voice is muffled by the blankets he’s tearing through. I’m
too hungry to argue, so I search the room halfheartedly.
Ten silent minutes later—no button. Added bonus: Now it
looks like the room was ransacked by thieves. Pilot straightens
near the door, studying the mess with crossed arms and a
flustered expression. I pull the sheets back up onto my bed and
walk over to stand next to him.
I break the silence. “Well, that was fun.”
“It’s not here.”
“It would seem that way.”
Pilot sighs. “This is going to be difficult.”
“Agreed.” We stare at the room a beat longer. “Food?”
“Food.”

---

We meet Sahra and Babe down the street, outside the
Colosseum, and head to the little trattoria I remember from
Rome: Take One. I keep my purse on all through dinner, just
to be safe. We all share a pitcher of Italian wine. I get my
usual: ravioli. The four of us cackle and chat about YU—how
we’re so lucky to be here in Rome for the weekend, while all
the other poor schmucks are still in New York. College-era
nostalgia settles over me. I feel it like a tangible thing on my
skin. The memories are sticky. I try to shake them off with
laughter and wine, but they cling to my face, arms, legs, until
I’m just one big collage of random moments, decisions, and
regrets.
The four of us grow quiet as we mosey our way back to the
room. It’s late, but I’m not the slightest bit tired. Instead, I’m
jittery and anxious like I’ve had too much caffeine. When
Babe hauls open the giant castle door with the appropriately
ancient key, I stay rooted at the foot of the shallow stairs. Babe
slips inside, followed closely by Sahra. Pilot puts his foot in
the door and turns back to hold it open for me.
“Coming?”
“I don’t really want to.”
Pilot disappears into the inn. He reappears a few seconds
later, letting the door shut behind him. He skips down the
steps, hands jammed in his pockets.
“What’s up?” he says with a tilt of the head.
I scuff my boot along the ground. “I don’t know. I mean,
we’re in Rome. We’re in Rome again … and we may be
leaving.” My voice wavers. I clear my throat. “We could be
leaving at any moment, and I just want to make the most of
being here. I don’t want to go to sleep if there’s a chance we
might be gone tomorrow morning.”
Pilot takes a few steps down the street and looks back at
me. “Then let’s stay out and explore.”

---