Study Abroad: CH. 2

CHAPTER TWO: THE KISS ON THE BALCONY

Marco didn’t wait for me to answer. He just closed his sketchbook, slid the pencil into the spiral binding, and stood. “Come on, Iowa,” he said, like the plan was already set.

We slipped out of the garden and cut across campus toward the gate. The air outside the walls of AUR felt different—louder, more alive, the kind of warm that wrapped around you instead of sitting on your skin.

“Where exactly is this gelato?” I asked as we started down the hill.

“Near the Pantheon,” he said. “Best in Rome.”

I nodded, pretending I knew what that meant in terms of distance or direction.

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