Again, But Better(24)

Pilot frowns for a moment.

“That’s a tough one.” He stares into the distance. “I think first, I’d have to hit up one those epic concerts your favorite band used to put on back in the day.”

I smile. “Taylor Swift or…?”

He makes a pfft half-laugh sound. “I’d have to check out the Beatles … and—I feel like I gotta think out these second two.”

“I think I’d want to be in the room when they wrote the Constitution.” I ponder. “Maybe dressed as a guy, so I could insert my two cents and they’d listen to me.”

Pilot shoots me a surprised grin. I return my attention back to the restaurant door. Silence stretches for a few moments. My panicked twitchiness returns.

“So, I guess we should go meet Sahra and Babe,” Pilot says.

I turn to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, you go ahead. I’m going to stay here and wait.”

He tilts his head forward. “Shane, it doesn’t open till three.”

“Yeah, you go, and I’ll stay here.”

“You think I’m just going to leave you here huddled on the curb by yourself?”

I look away from his face, feeling guilty. “Just go meet up with them. I’m fine!”

I wonder what the protocol actually is for losing your passport in a foreign country. Why wasn’t this in So You’re Going to Study Abroad?

“Let’s go grab some food, and then we’ll track down Sahra and Babe,” he suggests.

My eyebrows furrow again. I do my best to keep my voice level. “Pilot, I don’t have any money. I have nothing; I have to stay and wait for my purse.”

His eyebrows descend as he responds with all seriousness, “Oh, is it meeting you out here?”

A breath huffs through my lips, and I fiddle with my numbers bracelet, spinning it around on my wrist. The idea of carrying the added guilt of ruining Rome for both me and Pilot is too much. Losing a passport is a trip ruiner.

“What does your bracelet mean?” he asks.

“It’s a Lost thing. You’d have to watch it.” I dismiss his next distraction attempt and instantly feel shitty about it.

“I lost my wallet once—” he tries again.

I interrupt him. “This isn’t the same, Pies.”

“Excuse me, can I tell my insightful story?” He raises his eyebrows. I deflate, caving in on myself and staring at the ground.

“So, I was in Florida with my roommates, freshman year spring break, and we took a cab to the beach.”

I’m distracted momentarily, imagining Pilot all shirtless on the beach. I raise my gaze and watch him talk.

“When we got there, we set up camp near the water, and then I realized my wallet wasn’t in my pocket.”

I raise my eyebrows sarcastically.

He continues. “It was our only beach day there, and I spent about an hour retracing my steps all over the sand before heading back to where my buddies were. I had to borrow one of their phones to try and get ahold of the cab company. I gave them my hotel info and my friend’s number so that if they found it, they could return it. Then I spent the day stressed out, pacing around and worrying.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes.

He smiles. “And then I got a call around four that a driver had found a wallet and dropped it off at my hotel. When we went back, it was there.”

I study him skeptically for a moment. “What’s your point?” I say, trying to sound aloof.

“It’s not worth the stress of stressing. We’re here for two days. You can’t spend one of them sitting on the curb of a restaurant for six hours.”

“But what if—”

“Let’s go get a gelato.” He stands and offers me a hand.

“What? It’s, like, nine in the morning,” I say from the curb.

“And?”

“And I don’t have any money,” I add gloomily.

“I’ve got this one.”

I twist back to frown at the trattoria behind me. Why are you closed? I need you now! When I turn back, Pilot’s still holding out his hand. I am hungry. I won’t be able to eat if I pass up this offer and insist on staying—because money.

“And then we’ll come back and check on the restaurant?” I ask, grabbing his hand.

He pulls me up off the curb and releases my palm. My hand is fangirling as I return it to my side. I begrudgingly follow him down the cobblestone street.

“And then we’ll meet Sahra and Babe at the Colosseum.”

I let this sit for a moment. Maybe he’s right. Am I being stays-in-her-dorm-and-misses-everything-out-of-fear Shane? But, if they happen to open early, I’d be here the second they open.

I sigh. “But what if I need Chapstick and start to deteriorate due to withdrawal?”

In front of me, Pilot turns back and shoots me a sarcastic look. I can see him trying not to smile behind it.

“If it gets bad, I’ll take you to the hospital myself.”

The corners of my mouth twitch up. Pilot hooks a left at the next corner, and we stop abruptly outside a gelato shop. It’s open. What the heck? “How did you know this was here?”

“We passed it last night.”

“It was dark!” I exclaim in disbelief.