““That’s the journal on your chair, right?” he holds out a hand, demanding to see it. “Show me this list.” I grab it and turn directly to the page with the list. He takes it from me and holds out his hand again. “Pen?” I eye him curiously but he doesn’t say anything, so I hand the pen over too. He makes a humming sound in his throat as he studies my handwriting, then says, “ Ciao. ” When I don’t respond, he says it again and holds out his hand for me to shake. “ Sono Darren. ” My eyes widen when I realize what he’s doing. “ Ciao. Sono Pippa. ” He squeezes my hand. “ Che bel nome, Pippa. ” I blush because I can’t help myself. He thinks my name is pretty. And I forgot how hot it is when he speaks Italian. “ Grazie. ” “ Arrivederci. ” I wave as if we really are going to part ways. “ Arrivederci. ” Darren clicks the pen into action and strikes though “Have a conversation with someone in only Italian.” It wasn’t exactly my original plan, and it’s elementary at best, but it had a beginning, middle, and end. And summer’s not over yet, so I’m counting it.””
