Again, But Better(83)

“You’re yelling a Kelly Clarkson song,” he interrupts.

I stop short and swallow. “I didn’t mean for that to turn into a Kelly Clarkson song. Why do you even know that song?”

“Everyone knows that song.”

“Well, she’s says some good, poignant stuff in it—” I cut off as Pilot takes a step closer. I stumble backward. “Hey!”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Can I just see the button, please?”

“No,” I respond automatically.

“Please, just let me see it with my eyes.” His arms flop to his sides. “Shane,” he says gently, “I promise I’m not going to press it right now.”

I suck in a slow breath, trying to relocate a semblance of calm. “I’ll let you see it if you let me hold it,” I tell him, raising my button hand and holding it out.

“Shane, I can’t see it with you holding it. It’s too far away—” I shove it toward him at the same time he takes a step forward, and he rams face-first into my hand.

“Sorry!” I blurt as he exclaims, “Jesus!” He briefly touches a hand to his forehead and retreats a step.

“Sorry,” I repeat sheepishly.

A small smile plays at his lips now. “Can I just…” He steps forward and carefully takes my wrist, holding it steady. My skin heats at the contact. I imagine glitter seeping up my arm.

I’m not quite sure why this feeling amounts to glitter. It’s like my skin’s sparkling.

His head tilts from left to right as he reads the poem. Finally, he looks back up at me with wide eyes. “The adventure gained will be lost? So, we won’t remember any of this?”

I nod. “That’s what it sounds like.” He holds my gaze for a moment.

“Okay.” He lets go and stuffs his hands into his pockets. I bring the medallion back to my side.

“Okay what?” I ask quietly.

“Okay, let’s hold off on the reset,” he says simply.

“You want to hold off on the reset?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“No, you just said, ‘Let’s hold off on the reset.’ Do you want to hold off on it?”

“Let’s hold off,” he says quietly.

“Okay … I want to hold on to this thing, okay?” I add softly.

He nods. “Okay. Should we make a rule?”

I quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of rule?”

“We can’t press it without the other’s knowledge; we have to discuss it beforehand.”

I nod. “Sounds good.”

“Shall we rejoin Babe and Sahra, and do Rome?” he suggests.

I scuff at the ground, processing. “I guess that would be appropriate … We left without paying for our food.”

“Oh shit.” He laughs.

I carefully stash the medallion in my cross-body, inside the tiny zipper area inside the main section of the purse, for safekeeping.





9. Might as Well Embrace It



“What the heck was that in your food?” Babe asks as she uncaps her lipstick in front of the mirror.

“Um, it was like a coin or something. I dropped it outside.”

“Oh my goodness, that’s insane! You’re okay, right?”

“I’m fine,” I insist with a smile.

“And things are okay with you and Pilot?”

“Yeah, we talked. It’s going to be fine.”

“What does that mean? Is he ending things with Amy?” She pulls a towel from the dispenser and uses it to blot her lipstick.

I swallow. “I don’t know, but I promise, I’ll fill you in when I can.”

She pops her lips, makes eye contact through the mirror, and nods. “Okay.”

On our way back to the table, she recaps how Sahra yelled at our waiter and got all our meals for free because I almost choked on something in my food and got sick outside.



* * *



The overall mood of the group picks up exponentially now that Pilot’s not completely distracted, and I’m not moping around like I got coal for Christmas. Pilot resumes his role of Map Man and leads us through Rome. I let my hair fall around my shoulders. I pull out my little, super-old digital camera and start taking pictures. I giggle and converse with Babe and Sahra. I feel a thousand times lighter.

When we stroll into the Pantheon, Pilot stops short at the threshold and throws his arms out in a T. “Wait! Guys.” We all stop short. “Remember how Robert Langdon came here in The Da Vinci Code?” he announces with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Sahra takes him seriously. “I never read it.”

“Nope,” Babe says as she strolls off after Sahra to inspect one of the niches against the wall.

I mash my lips into a line, trying not to appear amused. “Ha-ha,” I mutter. He shoots me a mischievous look that makes my heart do somersaults, before strolling away toward one of the niches.



* * *



Sunday, we go back to the Vatican. I’m the first to burst out onto the balcony at the top of the endless staircase. When I find an open spot, I grab hold of the railing and step up as close as I can.

Pilot comes up on my right. “This was the coolest thing we climbed.”