Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) by Gina Azzi

was seen on that day to be
    like chased gold and pearl:
    one rested on the ground, and one in the water,
    and one, in wandering vagary,
    twirling, seemed to say: ‘Here Love rules’.
    -Petrarch, Canzoniere Sonnet 126
    She wrote it down when she was still in college, doodling hearts and flowers around the quote. During her senior year of college, she fell in love with my dad. They married immediately following graduation, and within a year I was born, effectively halting her wanderlust and dreams of a life abroad. But to read her journals, her words, the quotes she connected with, it’s like exploring a piece of her soul, allowing her spirit to live on.
    I sigh, unpacking my notebook and a pen for the first class. I naturally took a seat in the front row. Leaning back in my chair, I try to scan the unfamiliar faces around me without actually having to turn around and draw attention to myself. A guy with sandy brown hair and an open smile takes the desk next to me.
    “Hey,” he says, nodding in my direction.
    “Hi.”
    “This is my first class like this. Literature in Italian instead of English. Don’t know how it’s going to go reading the classics but I figure, when in Rome …” He grins, resting his elbows on the desk and leaning forward. “I’m Peter Buchanan. Call me Pete.”
    “Nice to meet you. Mia.” I offer an awkward wave.
    “Have you studied Italian long?”
    “Just the past two years in college. Not in high school or anything. You?”
    “Both. High school and college. I always wanted to study abroad, and I love Italian food so …” He shrugs.
    “Makes sense.” I smile politely.
    “Are your family roots Italian?”
    I nod. “Yep. From Bari. You?”
    “Calabria. On my Mom’s side. My dad’s side is Scottish.”
    “That’s cool. Have you been to Scotland?”
    “Not yet. It’s definitely part of my plan while I’m in Europe this semester. Where are you from in the US?”
    “New York. The city. You?”
    He whistles. “That’s sweet. I want to move to the city after graduation. I’m from Connecticut.”
    “So practically neighbors.” I smile.
    “Yup.” He nods, smiling back.
    Our professor enters a moment later, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her hair is dark, neatly pulled back in a severe bun. Professoressa Giuliana, her face impassive, her eyes sharp. She looks around the room, making eye contact with each student individually. Then she smiles and her face warms, breaking the seriousness of her arrival.
    “Buon giorno.”
    “Buon giorno,” the class echoes.
    Professoressa introduces herself, hands out the course syllabus, and discusses the course objectives and assignments for the semester. I scan the requirements quickly. Two papers, four essays, two reflections, one partner project, one final exam. Hundreds of pages of reading. I hear the groans of a few students sitting around me as they take in the heavy workload, but I smile. This class is going to be really interesting.
    At the end of class, Professoressa dismisses us with a clap of her hands. “Don’t forget to introduce yourselves and make some friends. You will all be working closely together this semester, and you don’t want to wait too long to decide on the topic for your partner project,” she reminds us as students shuffle out the door.
    “Hey, want to partner up?” Pete asks me, shoving his notebook into his navy backpack.
    “Uh, sure.” I answer. Already? Maybe Pete is as serious about this class as I am. “That’d be cool.”
    “Great. Let me give you my number.” He reaches over and scribbles his number into the corner of my notebook page. “Maybe we can get together after class next week?”
    “Yeah. Great.”
    “Okay. See ya.” He smiles good-naturedly and lopes out of the classroom.
    I sit stunned for a moment. No one has ever asked me to partner on a project so quickly before. I’m usually the last one left, asked by the group who needs one more person in order to fulfill