You provoked a snake, and the snake bit you.
It’s not even been a full week here in Rome and everything has gone to shit.
I knew something like this would happen if Noah and I co-chaperoned this trip. We can’t be left alone. We’re like two children who need constant minding. Put us in a room together and you’ll return to find the place on fire.
It seems like for once, there’s no clear path forward.
I suppose I could bail on this whole thing, call Principal O’Malley, tell him I can’t do it after all and I need to come home. But where would that leave the students and Noah? I can’t just up and abandon them. Today was rough at the Roman Forum, but I know the kids are having such a good time here. There’s also the issue of the bonus money, which isn’t all that important, but it’s something. One more reason to stay.
I’m being a coward, really. I’m only thinking about leaving because I don’t want to face Noah in the morning. I wish I could slink away into the night, but I can’t just up and flee back to the States, holing myself away on a cargo ship. I have more than two weeks left here in Rome and I need to make the most of them. I’m in Europe! Surrounded by culture and good food and fine wine! Weird situation with Noah and failing love match with Lorenzo aside, I’ve enjoyed my time exploring the city on my own, and I feel like I have so much left to see and do here. That’s where I need to focus my attention.
Noah doesn’t matter, I tell myself, like I’m practicing a new mantra. He shouldn’t have this much control over my mood and emotions. He’s my coworker. The teacher next door. A person I see at staff meetings and in the lunchroom and that’s it.
I go to sleep repeating all of that, feeling hopeful that it’ll stick.
I really think I’ve cured myself of this sickness, and then I walk into the dining hall the next morning and there’s Noah, sitting at a table by himself, nursing a coffee, looking like shit.
There’re faint circles under his eyes and his mouth is a flat line. His thick brows look like they’ve accidentally become stuck in that furrowed position permanently. He hasn’t seen me yet. His attention is down on his cup as he brushes his thumb up and down the length of it. It looks like he hasn’t slept a wink. I wonder if that’s his first cup of coffee or his third?
Complicated feelings tug me in opposite directions. I feel bad that I might have inadvertently hurt Noah somehow. I should not have teased him like that. Maybe he feels bad that he took things as far as he did. Strange as it may seem, I do think he’s capable of feeling remorse. I guess we’re both dogs with our tails between our legs this morning.
For a moment, I consider going over to him, saying all the things I would have said had I had the courage to knock on his door last night, but then I think of my new mantra. The only way forward, the only way to get out of this crazy loop with Noah is to break the cycle. I cannot keep doing this with him, pretending that poking him and teasing him and focusing my full attention on him will get me anywhere. If I’m not careful, my love-to-hate relationship with him will suck me dry, and where will that leave me a month from now? A year? Two years? Right where I am in this moment. Alone.
I mean look at what happened last night. I kissed Noah while I was on a date with another guy! Lorenzo and I were hitting it off pretty well. I liked him! And then my complicated relationship with Noah sabotaged my night with Lorenzo. Whatever we could have had is gone now, up in smoke.
So I make a conscious effort to pivot away from Noah and take careful measured steps toward the dining hall line. I feel like I’m an actor walking across stage for an audience. Am I doing it right? Do I look natural?
If Noah looks up and spots me, I don’t notice. I’m purposely ignoring him. I go through the food line and pick up a banana and a bagel. I fill my coffee to the tippity top of my cup, and then I take my tray to the side of the room Noah isn’t occupying and sit with my back to him.
There. That wasn’t so hard.
I stare down at the food I should be eagerly tucking into, and then like an impulsive addict, I glance furtively over my shoulder in time to see Noah stand up. It’s early and most of the kids aren’t awake yet. There’s only a handful of people in here, and there’s no way Noah hasn’t seen me.