asked?”
“Because you’re American,” I said, stating the obvious.
“…And? I don’t follow.”
“I didn’t come here to hang out with Americans. Italians only for me,” I explained as if talking to a five-year-old.
“Ah,” Andrew sat in thought. “That works for me.” Andrew stood and offered me his hands, “In that case, would you like to dance? As friends of course.”
I let out a small, unflattering shriek. The Italian bartender had appeared behind Andrew’s shoulder.
“Bella, we dance now.” His voice was sexy.
“Si, si, si, si, si!” I sang as the bartender nodded to Andrew.
“Ciao, Americano!” I shouted to Andrew as I left him standing outside. The Italian bartender and I danced closely for the rest of the evening. I was pleasantly surprised; he was a gentleman and didn’t try to kiss me (after I pushed him away once). I resisted leaving when Emilia and Kimberly pulled me to a cab.
“Dana, it’s 3:30 and we have to be at class in like, five hours,” Emilia pleaded. I made a disgruntled noise. “Give him your digits and let’s go.”
Since I still didn’t have a phone, he scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper. It read ‘Giuseppe.’ I had been way off.
As we secured a cab, I looked out the window and saw Andrew and his housemates standing a ways off. They were staring intently at our cab. I waved, and Andrew turned away quickly, talking to Josh and Rob. Rob was his housemate from California, a real hipster dude that I had been introduced to at some point tonight.
“Do you and Andrew have a thing?” I asked Emilia.
“Absolutely not. What made you think that?” she asked.
“I just thought since you came here together and go to the same school, that maybe…” “Oh no,” Emilia assured. “He just broke up with a girlfriend I think, to come here. And I had a boyfriend there.”
“Had?” I asked.
“He’s going to school in Louisiana, and he’s leaving Seattle while I’m abroad. I don’t know what we are now, but he won’t be there when I come back,” Emilia explained.
“I’m sorry.” I touched Emilia’s leg. Kimberly had been jabbering away in Italian to the taxi driver. Either hitting on him or giving instructions, I couldn’t be sure.
“It’s OK, what about you? Boyfriend?” she asked.
I recoiled instantly. “No, no way. I dated one guy in high school for three years and we broke up just as I was going to college. I’ve been single four years now, all throughout college, and I plan on keeping it that way. Well, except for the last guy I dated. I found him in bed two days before I came here with a horrible girl that has lousy hair, but that’s beside the point. We hadn’t dated for long, and we didn’t even have sex so it doesn’t count.”
“Ugh,” Emilia grunted. “Stay single, less complications.”
After staring out the windows for a few seconds, s he looked at me, flicking her eyelashes. “However, Andrew’s a good guy, so if you want to go for him, I support it. He’s not my type, believe me.”
“Mine neither.” I grinned. “Mine is tall, dark, handsome and Italian .”
I leaned back and we sat in contemplative silence for the rest of the cab ride home. I barely noticed the cab driver ignoring all red lights. Apparently the streets were free game after midnight, the stoplights mere suggestions.
We attempted to be discreet entering the apartment, a major
“Because you’re American,” I said, stating the obvious.
“…And? I don’t follow.”
“I didn’t come here to hang out with Americans. Italians only for me,” I explained as if talking to a five-year-old.
“Ah,” Andrew sat in thought. “That works for me.” Andrew stood and offered me his hands, “In that case, would you like to dance? As friends of course.”
I let out a small, unflattering shriek. The Italian bartender had appeared behind Andrew’s shoulder.
“Bella, we dance now.” His voice was sexy.
“Si, si, si, si, si!” I sang as the bartender nodded to Andrew.
“Ciao, Americano!” I shouted to Andrew as I left him standing outside. The Italian bartender and I danced closely for the rest of the evening. I was pleasantly surprised; he was a gentleman and didn’t try to kiss me (after I pushed him away once). I resisted leaving when Emilia and Kimberly pulled me to a cab.
“Dana, it’s 3:30 and we have to be at class in like, five hours,” Emilia pleaded. I made a disgruntled noise. “Give him your digits and let’s go.”
Since I still didn’t have a phone, he scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper. It read ‘Giuseppe.’ I had been way off.
As we secured a cab, I looked out the window and saw Andrew and his housemates standing a ways off. They were staring intently at our cab. I waved, and Andrew turned away quickly, talking to Josh and Rob. Rob was his housemate from California, a real hipster dude that I had been introduced to at some point tonight.
“Do you and Andrew have a thing?” I asked Emilia.
“Absolutely not. What made you think that?” she asked.
“I just thought since you came here together and go to the same school, that maybe…” “Oh no,” Emilia assured. “He just broke up with a girlfriend I think, to come here. And I had a boyfriend there.”
“Had?” I asked.
“He’s going to school in Louisiana, and he’s leaving Seattle while I’m abroad. I don’t know what we are now, but he won’t be there when I come back,” Emilia explained.
“I’m sorry.” I touched Emilia’s leg. Kimberly had been jabbering away in Italian to the taxi driver. Either hitting on him or giving instructions, I couldn’t be sure.
“It’s OK, what about you? Boyfriend?” she asked.
I recoiled instantly. “No, no way. I dated one guy in high school for three years and we broke up just as I was going to college. I’ve been single four years now, all throughout college, and I plan on keeping it that way. Well, except for the last guy I dated. I found him in bed two days before I came here with a horrible girl that has lousy hair, but that’s beside the point. We hadn’t dated for long, and we didn’t even have sex so it doesn’t count.”
“Ugh,” Emilia grunted. “Stay single, less complications.”
After staring out the windows for a few seconds, s he looked at me, flicking her eyelashes. “However, Andrew’s a good guy, so if you want to go for him, I support it. He’s not my type, believe me.”
“Mine neither.” I grinned. “Mine is tall, dark, handsome and Italian .”
I leaned back and we sat in contemplative silence for the rest of the cab ride home. I barely noticed the cab driver ignoring all red lights. Apparently the streets were free game after midnight, the stoplights mere suggestions.
We attempted to be discreet entering the apartment, a major
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