It’s short and flirty with a halter neck that ties with a little bow. It’s backless and the material hits just at the base of my spine. I barely muster the courage to turn and peer behind me at my reflection in the dressing room mirror, and when I do, I nearly choke.
“Does it fit?” Gabriella asks.
“Yes. I mean…I think it does.”
Before I can stop her, she whips aside the curtain to have a look for herself.
“HEY!”
“Holy—”
“Shit,” Ashley finishes for her.
They have me spin around so they can get the full effect.
“You’re getting it,” Gabriella proclaims, as if it’s a done deal.
Ashley leans in, curious. “How does it work? Is there a built-in bra?”
“A little one. I mean, it’s probably not enough, clearly.”
“You look smoking. It’s your dress. THE DRESS. I don’t care if you have nowhere to wear it. You’re getting it. I mean, save it for your funeral if you have to.”
After that fun little morbid suggestion, I try to push them out of the dressing room so I can change back into decent clothes, but they won’t budge.
“I haven’t even looked at the price yet,” I say, foolishly thinking that will sway them.
Ashley grabs the tag hanging under my armpit. “Thirty-five euros. Done.”
“Are you kidding?” Gabriella looks shocked. “I’ll buy the damn thing for you if you aren’t going to.”
Ten minutes later, I’m out on the sidewalk holding that tiny dress in a tiny bag.
We stop for a lunch that goes on forever. The waiter takes a liking to us and keeps bringing out delicious plates of food the chef wants us to try. We barely make it back to the school in time before the planned afternoon excursion. Everyone’s already in the courtyard when we hustle through the gate.
“Sorry! Sorry!”
We rush to drop off our purchases in our rooms and then it’s off to explore the Villa Borghese.
Though it might sound shocking, Noah and I don’t get the chance to talk, not once, that whole afternoon. We’re in full chaperone mode. When we leave St. Cecilia’s, Lorenzo takes pity on us and directs us toward the metro station instead of having us walk all the way to the villa, but that unlocks a whole new nightmare I hadn’t even considered: trying to make sure nineteen middle school kids stay together and survive on public transportation in a foreign country.
You’d think it’d be relatively easy, but no. While being goofy and trying to make his friends laugh, Isaiah trips on the subway platform and nearly careens off the edge onto the track. Chris gets lost for ten minutes trying to find a bathroom because he didn’t listen to Noah when he told everyone to go before they left the school. Zach thinks it’s funny to stick his hand through the sliding train doors and pretend they’re going to chop off his limb. I tell him not to—he ignores me—and then the doors start to close and a blaring alarm sounds; he screams and jumps a mile in the air. Kylie leaves her wallet on a bench back on the platform but doesn’t realize it until we’re getting off the train, so once we arrive at the Villa Borghese, Noah has to get right back on the metro and go hunting for it. Alice wore these ridiculous lace-up gladiator sandals even though she knew we’d be walking all afternoon and, shocking to no one, immediately gets blisters on her heels that she won’t stop complaining about. I just wanted to look Roman! While a tour guide starts to lead our group through the main gallery, I break off and try to find some Band-Aids for her. I’m led on a wild goose chase that takes me forty-five minutes. The security guard I talk to tells me they might have some at guest services. Guest services tells me they keep the Band-Aids at the first-floor welcome desk. The first-floor welcome desk is closed because of ongoing renovations and holy hell, when I finally hand Alice those Band-Aids and she just shrugs and tells me, “Oh, Millie had some in her bag she gave me a while ago,” I think my head might explode.
By the time I’m ready to actually enjoy the gallery, it’s time for us to leave, and this time, we’re walking back because Lorenzo has a dinner planned for us at a “special restaurant”。
It ends up being Hard Rock Cafe, rock ’n’ roll-themed burger chain serving up all the food I can eat back home while blasting music so loudly I can barely hear my own thoughts. The kids are beside themselves, of course. Having sampled enough foreign fare to last them a lifetime, they all scarf down burgers and fries and milkshakes without a single complaint.