After the intense and bizarre first day of class I had today, Nina knows I need a distraction and takes me to dinner at one of the local restaurants near the guesthouse.
I don't think she knew what she was getting herself into.
Being alone with her, I find myself revisiting my encounters with Sandro Bianchi. Since we left the guesthouse, I haven't been able to stop talking about it, pausing only to order our food after the waiter's third attempt.
"I feel so stupid," I admit once the waiter walks away. "With all my stupid fears and anxieties..." I pick up the glass of water and take a sip. "This is what my dad has done to me. I'm such a—"
"Lu, you've got to give it a break," Nina interrupts me. "That could've happened to any of us. No one knew who he was. And from what you've told me, he's the one that was startling you and creeping up on you like a crazy stalker," she tells me. "Besides, we all saw the way he was staring at you."
"Well, I think we know why he was staring at me like that...I punched him." I let out a heavy sigh. "I still can't believe I did that."
"If you ask me, he had it coming. But...who knows, maybe he was mad at you and was even planning his revenge," she teases, trying to lighten my mood, no doubt.
"Ugh! I hope we don't ever have to see him again..."
"Whoa...hold on a minute. I don't have to agree with that, do I?" she asks but doesn't give me a chance to answer. "I mean, have you seen the guy?" Again, I open my mouth to reply but she prevents me from speaking, gesturing with her hands. "No, no...you cannot tell me he's not super-hot and easy on the eyes. I hope we do see him often, if not every day," she declares. "I mean, we can't deny our eyes such a delicious treat. Now, can we?"
"I don't care how good-looking he is, Nina. I really don't want to see him again. Not only did I punch the man, but every time I ran into him, I acted like a clumsy scaredy-cat and an incoherent idiot. It's too embarrassing!" Not to mention the fact that he still makes me anxious, and he has been kissing me with bloody lips in my nightmares for days now.
It's one thing to dream about a ghost that you may never see again, but it's another thing to have such dreams about someone you're forced to see every day.
We finish our dinner and go back to the guesthouse. Once we're in our room, Nina goes to the shower while I sit on my bed, getting comfortable with my iPhone in hand, to start writing the emails I promised to send to my father and Lori every day. With the time difference and our busy schedules, I hope these daily emails will prevent them from calling me all the time.
I open the app and see they both replied to the emails I sent them Saturday. After I read the one from Lori, I open my father's, my fingers trembling.
"Well, this is better than I expected," I mutter as I read his email, wondering about that District 10 he keeps mentioning. Before I left, though he didn't talk to me much, he made it quite clear that I needed to stay away from that district. The way he insisted then, just like he's doing now in his message, seems awfully obstinate and suspicious, even for him.
*****
Our second Art History lesson takes place at the Museum of Classical Arts. The building is rich with magnificent sculptures and interesting paintings displayed everywhere. Its structure is also impressive. It's a classical architecture exhibiting old, yet ageless, gray marble floors and white walls all throughout, with the perfect lighting setting, making the place sort of magical.
When we finish our class, I propose going to visit the main library as Nina and I walk out of the museum.
"Sure," she says. "If you promise me that we'll go to the science building tomorrow."
"Ooh...negotiating, eh?" I'm amused.
"Yep." She smiles. "Sapienza has been recognized worldwide for its extraordinary science and research department for over a century. And I read on their newsprint that some physicists came from Paris and Switzerland for a conference. Apparently, they're working on detecting a new exotic state of matter, something about particle collider and primordial goo."
"Okay. You got yourself a deal." I compromise, though I'm more interested in history, art, and music. "And maybe Thursday we can go to the Chapel or some museums," I suggest, feeling motivated to have a busy schedule ahead of us. It will help me keep my mind off other things, like Mr. Bianchi, for instance.
This morning, I felt relieved when we arrived at the auditorium, and I noticed he wasn't there. I thought I would be able to relax and have a normal day. But boy, was I wrong.
We had been rehearsing for about an hour when I felt his presence, and my eyes started searching around the theater. Surely enough, there he was, sitting quietly in one of the rows in the back, watching us dance. He gazed at me for a moment, and then looked away, a grimace taking over his face. I suppressed the urge to look at him again after that, or at least I tried. The truth is I struggled to stay focused on our rehearsal all day.
Today, we all had turns to dance with each dancer. By the end of the class, we had all been paired up with one another. This would give the instructors an idea of who has chemistry together and what roles to give each of us for our big performance.
"I'm glad rehearsals will be at Aula Magna starting tomorrow," I admit as we cross the street to the library. "It's supposed to be much more spacious and comfortable."
"Yeah...and I've heard it's beautiful," Nina agrees.
We enter the library, and my eyes explode with amazement. It's enormous. As I walk in, my head slowly falls back, following my line of sight to the angels, warriors, and alluring fairies welcoming us from the colorful and scenic canvases that decorate the colossal high ceiling.
It must be at least three stories high.
Golden statues of all sizes spread around the library in different poses. Some appear to be guarding the books, while others seem to be simply watching us, humans, from above. In the center of the main room, laid on the polished wood floors, are about fifty perfectly aligned desks, some of which are now occupied by concentrated students. Each desk is adorned with an antique style lamp, and some even have a computer. There are many shelves fanning out from the center area, countless others against the walls, and many rows in the back.
The biggest collection of books I've ever seen.
It's all sinking in as my head turns around like a spinning fan, absorbing every detail. It thrills me to think about the history behind these walls, behind all these old volumes. Centuries of stories, dreams, creations, and even secrets reside here. All surpassing and surviving the very souls that have created them or experienced them. But those who write will never die, for writing is the path to immortality. Thus, by surviving them, these chronicled treasures have also given those very souls eternal life.
I grin, amused when I see the librarian hushing a student from behind her large desk. Her auburn hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, her clever milk-chocolate eyes hiding behind a pair of cat-eye shaped glasses.
After a few minutes of exploring, we stumble across the Historical Fiction section and instantly fall in love. I can't help myself when I start grabbing books from everywhere, simply to smell them. I love the smell of all books, old or new. But there's always something truly especial about the old ones. Their sweet aroma is my favorite.
"You look like a starving fat kid in front of her favorite chocolate cake." Nina's voice brings me back to reality.
"Oh, yeah!" I giggle as I begin my search for a book to read.
"If only you could read Italian, eh?" she teases. She knows I read, write, and speak Italian fluently. I had to learn both Italian and Greek as I was growing up. It was my father's condition for allowing me to take private dancing and piano lessons.
"This is it." I grab a book from one of the shelves—Il Nome Della Rosa, by Umberto Eco. "I read it in English a long time ago and loved it, but now I get to read it in its original language and from one of its earliest prints," I gush. "Let's see if I remember..." I open the book on the page I think holds one of my favorite quotes and find it immediately. Satisfied, I translate the quote aloud for Nina, "Monsters exist because they are part of the divine plan, and in the horrible features of those same monsters, the power of the creator is revealed."
"Wow...deep. What's the book about?"
"You could say it's a murder mystery set in the Inquisition Era about two monks who visit a monastery in Italy, where they end up unraveling the secrets buried in the library and the mysteries behind the murders. But it's really a lot more than that. It's a real literary treasure that everyone should read." I hold the book up and wobble it in the air. "This gem here has some of the best quotes I've read."
"Ooh...read a couple of more quotes."
"Gladly..." I do as Nina asks. And when I'm done, as I close the book and lift my head up, I see Sandro Bianchi on the other side of the library, watching us.
My grin vanishes as I blink a few times, and then he's gone. It happens so fast, I'm not sure he was even there at all.
"Are you okay?" Nina turns her head around to follow my gaze. "What happened?"
"Nothing." I shake my head, deciding not to tell her since I know it might have been just my imagination. Besides, she'll worry if she sees how restless the man still makes me and how my recurrent nightmares are keeping me on edge. "I was just remembering another book I'd also like to find, now that I'm here," I tell her instead.
"Okay, then, let's go find that book."
*****
Aula Magna has delivered on its promise. Its reputation is in no way an exaggeration. The stage is magnificent, and the stunning Sironi mural on the back makes it one of a kind. It's titled Italy among Art and Science. A perfect representation of the university.
I love it here. The seats are more comfortable, and with the shiny wood floors, this place looks and feels much better than the other auditorium. I can't say I miss the musky smell of old carpet, plus I've appreciated the extra space and ideal temperature these last two days.
Today, after hours of intense rehearsals, we're all running against the clock, especially me. I lost a bet I made with Nina yesterday during our visit to the physics department. And as the loser, I can't say no to her today, and I must buy lunch for us from our favorite café.
The problem for me now is that this café is in a different building, a several-minute walk in the opposite direction to where we need to go for the Art History class. And since we finished rehearsals so late, I have limited time to get there before they close, and even less time to make it back to eat properly.
"Oh, please, wipe that smirk off your face," I tell Nina, quickly throwing just a shirt on since I won't even have time to change. "It makes you look older," I tease her.
As I'm about to leave, Ronald and Enrique ask me to bring food for them, as well.
"I trust you know what we like," Ronald says as he handles me the money. "And please, hurry. I'm hungry!"
"I don't remember having any bets with you, Ron," I say wryly. "Don't make me drag you there with me, or better yet, bring you a peanut-butter sandwich."
Ronald is allergic to nuts, more severely to peanuts.
"Ooh, someone is feeling murderous," Enrique teases.
"Oh, that's harsh. I'm wounded," Ronald says, placing a hand on his chest. "Come on, girl. You know I love you." He blows me a kiss.
"Yeah...yeah...if you say so." I walk away. This is what I get for betting against Nina about physics. I don't know what I was thinking when I accepted the challenge. My father might be a doctor in physics, but I know next to nothing about the subject. Science has never liked me, and the other way around. Nina, on the other hand, loves science and is educated on the topic.
I'm almost running as I stride toward the café as fast as I can, my toes complaining.
Lessons were fierce today. And we all got our permanent roles. I was given one of the principal characters, Hermia, the young woman of Athens who's in love with the handsome Lysander. I'm thrilled, but I know that I must work extra hard now since she has a rather lengthy solo. The role of Lysander was given to Max. He seemed to have welcomed the news of being my partner, giving me a flirtatious wink followed by a bearhug.
Arianna will be playing Helena, the young woman who's both a friend and a rival of Hermia, and is in love with Demetrius, which will be played by Darnell, one of the French dancers. Nina was given the role of Hippolyta, the queen of the Amazons, who's engaged to Theseus, king of Athens and conqueror of the Amazons. Donato, one of the Italian dancers, will be Theseus. The king and queen of Fairies, Oberon and Titania, were given to two of the Italian dancers, Milo and Laura. Ronald will be Bottom, the weaver whose head is turned into an ass.
There's no true protagonist in this story, but the mischievous fairy, Puck, is the character whose magic sets many of the events in motion and is present in most acts. This awesome role was given to my friend Enrique. The remaining dancers will be the cavalier, the fairies, and the rest of the supporting characters.
It was altogether an intense and long day. Marcello was passionate and enthusiastic about giving us the roles. Although, I'm not sure they were all really his decisions since the influence and guidance from Sandro Bianchi were noticeable.
Every day, he has been watching us dance quietly, except today. Today, he was involved, approaching the instructor at times to give suggestions. Perhaps they were more like commands, since every time he spoke to Marcello, modifications were made. Marcello and the others were all too eager, to say the least, to please him each time.
Where Maestro Bianchi is concerned, I gather most people would do absolutely anything and everything to satisfy him, or to impress him. I'm familiar with that kind of behavior. I've seen it toward my father my whole life.
I reach the café and rush through the door, only to jolt to an abrupt halt.
Deep blue eyes welcome me in.
I freeze on the spot, vaguely acknowledging when someone comes in behind me and propels me forward while grumbling something nasty in Italian.
I hold my breath as the gorgeous man, in his elegant navy suit, starts to walk in my direction. Instinctively, I take a step back.
"Ms. Anderson," he says quickly, lifting his hand. "Please, don't run again."
"Listen to the man, Luna. Just listen to the man," I mutter under my breath as I stare at him, shoving a shaky hand through my hair. It takes all my efforts not to run for the hills.
He smiles. "I never got the chance to introduce myself," he says.
"I know who you are." Oh...Hallelujah...I can speak.
"I meant before...I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Oh, you didn't?" The second I hear my sarcastic tone, I realize the unintended words came out in haste, sounding impudent. My mouth drops a little.
Surprisingly, he chuckles. "I deserved that." He nods, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "I apologize."
"Well, I didn't mean to punch you either," I say dryly. "I guess we're even. Now, if you'll excuse me..." I gesture him to step out of my way, still not sure of what about him bothers me so much, or why I react to him the way I do. "I really do have to run." Yes, pun intended.
He doesn't budge, staring at me with a smirk.
Aggravated, I walk around him and hurry to the counter, putting up a big fight against the urge to look back. I order the food and wait for it, still feeling his eyes on me.
After a couple of minutes that feel more like an hour, I can't resist it any longer and turn my head around, only to realize he's not behind me like I thought.
I look around, confused, for I still feel the sensation that I'm being watched. I can still feel his presence, that strange energy I feel when he's around, though he's nowhere to be found.
-End of Chapter Five-
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