“When I talked to my mom last night, I told her how gorgeous that botanical garden was,” Melina was saying as the three girls did their hair and makeup in the large bathroom upstairs.
“It was,” Annabelle agreed.
“Not as gorgeous as some of the guys were,” said Marnie.
The girls laughed, and then Annabelle, gazing disgustedly in the mirror, said, “Ugh, look at these zits. I’m in my twenties and still getting them. Sometimes I wish I were as Black as you, Marnie. That way they wouldn’t be so damn visible.”
“Maybe in the next life,” Marnie said.
Marnie finished her last of many braids as Melina applied the final touches of her makeup.
At a quarter to eight, they all climbed into Don’s SUV and headed for the university. The single-story building was located on sprawling, well-manicured grounds. Melina was amazed at how lush and green the lawn was compared to the brown and barren landscape of the desert. The trees and shrubs were vivid with color as well.
They went through the main entrance, Melina taking in all the Italian writing present on bulletin boards, nameplates, and various other places within the school’s rooms and corridors. What she did understand could mostly be credited to knowing Spanish, since the two languages had so many similarities.
“Right this way, ladies,” said Don.
The three girls followed the university president into his office. The secretary, an older lady, smiled at them as they passed through.
“Wow, you have a nice office, Uncle Don!” said Annabelle.
“Yeah, it’s way cool,” Marnie agreed, gazing around her.
Melina liked the extensive built-in bookshelves.
“It’s alright for an office,” Don laughed. “Okay, girls. Let me just check on a few things and then we’ll go find Brooke.”
Don did a few things on his computer, and then they retraced their steps back to the lobby. “The school is basically laid out in one big H. There are about twenty classrooms on each of the long sides of the H and ten in the middle. The bottom of the H is where all the offices and staff hangouts are. Separate from the main building is where the cafeteria, library, and infirmary are located. That’d be the smaller building you saw on the right.”
“Is there a gym?” asked Marnie.
“Actually, there is,” said Don. “That and the auditorium are in the back.”
They rounded a corner, and a long corridor stretched before them. Two heavyset women were talking to each other quite a ways down.
“Brooke,” Don called out.
The shorter, heavier of the two women glanced in their direction.
“Can I have a word with you when you get a moment?”
“Oh, sure,” said Brooke. She said something else to the woman, then hurried toward them.
When Brooke was just a few yards away, Don began making introductions.
“Hello, ladies,” Brooke said, greeting the group with a friendly smile, “and welcome to Italy.”
Melina studied the woman before her: strawberry-blond, hazel-eyed, and just an inch or two taller than her own five-foot frame.
“How are you ladies enjoying Rome so far?”
The girls eagerly agreed that they were enjoying it just fine. “But this is only our second day here,” Annabelle pointed out.
“So you haven’t had much time for exploring yet?”
“Oh yes. We’ve done quite a bit already,” said Marnie, who gave a brief account of the first day’s tour.
“Sounds like you girls had a lot of fun,” said Brooke.
“Except that Marnie paid more attention to the detail on the local guys as opposed to the architecture,” Melina threw in.
After a bit of laughter, Brooke clasped her hands together and said, “Okay, who knows what languages?”
Annabelle spoke first. “Marnie and I only know English, but the brainiac here knows Spanish and some others.”
All eyes came to rest upon Melina, who said, “And Italian isn’t one of them just yet.”
“Ah, but with Spanish and Italian being so similar, it shouldn’t take long to learn.”
“I hope to do just that.”
“Then I’ll find you a computer to study on. Would you prefer to use one in one of the classrooms or would you rather the library, where it’d be quieter?”
“They’re in favor of classroom observing,” said Don, “and so that means you can have the wonderful task of fitting them in somewhere.”
“Oh, okay. This is good timing too, since classes are just starting,” said Brooke. “Some of the teachers don’t care for observers, so let me think.” She put a thoughtful finger to her chin and said, “Why don’t you follow me? We’ll start at the beginning and work our way around.”
As Don headed back to his office, he said, “Okay, girls, have a good time. You know how to get back to the house when you’re ready.”
“Yeah, we remember the bus route you showed us, but it’s close enough that we may walk,” said Annabelle.
With that, Don was gone, and the girls followed Brooke.
“So I hear you girls are from the California desert.”
A round of confirmations, and then Brooke spoke again. “We’ll skip the math teachers. They wouldn’t appreciate observers, and it wouldn’t be a great way to learn much when most of the talk would be about numbers. So let me have a word with Mr. Bocconi. He’s one of the science teachers, and I don’t think he’d mind you sitting in, though you’re not all going to be able to be in the same classrooms since each one only has one computer. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine,” said Marnie. “We see enough of each other as it is.”
The girls chuckled, and a moment later, Annabelle was accepted into the back corner of Mr. Bocconi’s classroom. “See you at the bus stop at lunchtime,” she said before entering the room.
A few doors down, Marnie was deposited in Miss Massimo’s class, and then Melina followed Brooke through the horizontal part of the H and to the other side of the school. A few teachers and students were present throughout the long corridor. Brooke glanced to the left and then to the right. “Let’s go right and check out the lit ladies.”
“I assume that means Italian literature,” Melina said.
“Yup, that’s it,” Brooke confirmed with a smile.
Melina glanced at all the Italian surnames by each of the doors. Brooke eventually peered through the window of a door with the name Trabadoni next to it. “Nope. Miss Trabadoni’s assistant is on that computer, and I know Miss Lorenzo’s is too, so let’s try Signorina Givanni.”
They approached a conservatively dressed woman who stood outside the very last door, speaking to a young man wearing a backpack. “Signorina Givanni?”
The woman turned toward Brooke as Brooke said something to her in the fluent Italian Melina one day hoped to achieve for herself.
Then, in a soft voice that was somewhat high-pitched, Signorina Givanni said, “Oh, va bene.” She glanced quickly at Melina and then spoke again, nodding toward the classroom and motioning with her arm.
Melina looked at Brooke, confused, and Brooke said, “She’s saying to sit in back and then she’ll set you up on the computer when she gets a chance.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks, Brooke.”
“You’re very welcome. See you later.”
Melina threaded her way through the students, mostly female, to the back of the room. The students stood talking in groups. Some were sitting, some standing. Some were laughing, some were more serious. Some eyed her curiously, but most didn’t seem to even notice.
There were five rows of desks, six desks in each row. The computer was in the back corner by the window.
Melina found an empty desk in the second-to-last row and asked the nearest student if it had been taken.
The girl looked at her, brows knotted in confusion. Melina should’ve figured as much. After all, this was Italy, and they did speak Italian in Italy.
“Io sto solo parlo italiano e spagnolo.”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡphBUrlqmpK
(I only speak Italian and Spanish.)
That was enough for Melina. Smiling, she said, “¿Se habla español?”
The girl nodded and introduced herself as Tiana.
“I’m Melina.”
“¿Tú eres nueva aquí?”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRHnHpyWfGf
(Are you new here?)
“No, solamente visitando. Mi amiga es la sobrina del presidente.”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡenimsvqUf7
(No, just visiting. My friend is the president’s niece.)
“Tú puedes sentarte allí.”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiGVGkSSiis
(You can sit there.)
They took their seats next to each other, and Melina asked, “¿Te gusta aquí?”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwpPDZZMzOn
(Do you like it here?)
Tiana made an expression as if to say so-so. “La clase es interesante. La profesora no es popular, aunque.”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyF1fr136Vm
(The class is interesting. The teacher isn’t popular, though.)
“¿No?”
Tiana shook her head. “Ella no es mala. Es solo aburrida. Señorita Lorenzo es guay, pero ella tiene una clase llena.”143Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrzNl8egxlL
(She’s not bad. She’s just boring. Miss Lorenzo is cool, but her class is full.)
The teacher entered the classroom, closed the door behind her, and spoke to the students. Melina figured she was commanding them to take a seat, since they all stopped talking and sat down as soon as she spoke. The teacher spoke again, and this time the students pulled books from their backpacks. After about five minutes of instruction, the students began writing on the papers the teacher had passed out. Then she began to make her way toward Melina. Melina studied the woman as she approached.
She was ordinary in most ways, with close-cropped, straight, layered black hair, a face free of makeup, and a slim yet average body. She looked to be bordering on petite—about five-four, a hundred and twenty-five to thirty pounds. Her soft-spoken yet pleasant voice seemed to suit her well. When she reached Melina, she asked something in Italian.
Melina glanced at Tiana, who repeated the question to Melina in Spanish.
“Oh,” Melina said with a smile. “No mucho.”
The teacher then stepped over to the computer and tapped out a series of keystrokes. Melina moved over to watch. “Do you speak any English at all?”
She heard Tiana laugh.
The teacher stood up and looked at her.
“No English?” Melina asked again.
“No, no inglés. Solo italiano,” said the teacher. Then she asked a question.
Tiana interpreted for her and told her in Spanish that she was asking how long Melina would be in Italy.
“I don’t know,” she said as Tiana began to interpret in Italian for the teacher. “I’m here with a couple of friends, one of whom is the president’s niece. I’ve never been abroad before, so it’s quite an exciting adventure for me. I also love Romance languages and want very much to learn Italian.”
The teacher nodded, said something else, then motioned to the computer, which displayed a beginner’s course in Italian.
“Oh, gracias,” said Melina.
“Grazie,” the teacher corrected. “No inglese, no spagnolo. Il modo migliore per imparare è semplicemente fare.”
Melina sat before the computer, and the teacher plugged a pair of headphones into the back of the large iMac monitor. When she was done, she asked, “Bene?”
Melina nodded. “Sì. Grazie.”
The teacher gave a curt nod and returned to the front of the classroom, and Melina studied over the next few hours until lunchtime.
She left the room with the students and made her way down the hall. She was about to round the corner when she remembered that she’d forgotten to write down the name of the website she’d been using. She doubled back and approached the teacher, who was just about to re-enter the classroom.
“Hey. Hey!” Melina called, unaware of the other teacher who had stepped out of the room next door and walked up behind her.
“Signorina Giovanni,” Melina said hurriedly.
The teacher said, “Givanni. No Giovanni. Tu devi qualcosa?”
Melina explained in English that she wanted to write the site address down, but Signorina Givanni didn’t seem to understand.
The other teacher, who had come up behind her and whom Melina had yet to notice, found Melina’s effort amusing.
Frustrated, Melina finally said, “I don’t know how else to get it across to you. I just need your fucking computer for a minute, ok?” She headed into the classroom and over to the computer just as the other teacher’s expression turned to shock—before returning to amusement.
Signorina Givanni still had yet to understand, and she looked at the other teacher quizzically. The teacher motioned for her to hang on a moment as she approached Melina, who was now scribbling down the site address. Signorina Givanni followed and stood nearby.
“Hey, hun,” said the other teacher.
Melina looked up at the tall, dark woman before her.
“Believe it or not, there are a few of us around here that know English, so no more of the I just want to use your effing computer, ok?”
Melina’s eyes bulged. “Oh, I’m sorry!”
The woman laughed and said with an American accent, “That’s alright. You’re forgiven.”
Melina laughed nervously, though she appreciated how well the teacher handled the situation.
“Well, thanks. I appreciate it,” said Melina.
“So where are you from?” the woman asked.
“California. Way down in the desert by the Arizona and Mexico borders.”
The teacher told Signorina Givanni where she was from, and Signorina Givanni said, “Oh, è molto caldo lì.”
Melina looked at the other teacher and asked, “Is she saying it’s hot there?”
“Mm-hm,” the teacher said with a nod.
“So you’re from the States, too?” Melina asked.
“Yup. New York.”
“You’re part Italian?”
“Yup.”
Melina motioned toward Signorina Givanni and asked, “Has she been here all her life?”
“Ask her. It’s best to learn to talk on your own,” the other woman encouraged. “It’s the only way.”
“But the closest I can come to doing that is in Spanish.”
“Well, Spanish is similar to Italian, so start with that.”
Melina faced her teacher and asked, “¿Tú vives aquí toda tu vida?”
“Sì,” said Signorina Givanni. “Tutta la mia vita. Io sono cento per cento italiana.”
“Did you get that?” asked the other woman.
“Yes. She’s lived here all her life, and she’s a hundred percent Italian.”
“Good. Now try to tell her something about yourself.”
“Yo…”
“Io,” the woman corrected.
“Io media blanca…”
“Io sono mezza bianca,” guided the other woman.
“Y un cuarto mejicana.”
“E un quarto messicana.”
“Y – e un quarto indio.”
“Indiana. Remember, we have gendered words just like Spanish. A lot of the grammar is much the same in Italian.”
“Yeah, but grammar happens to be my weakest area. I really like the voice on this program, though. There’s just something really nice about it that makes learning easier, along with already knowing Spanish.”
With a smile, the woman told Signorina Givanni what she’d said, and then they both laughed.
Melina looked at the women, confused. Then Signorina Givanni did a sort of bow and said, “Grazie! È la mia voce.”
Melina’s eyes widened. “È la tua?”
Signorina Givanni nodded.
Melina looked at the other woman. “Wow, it does sound like her now that she’s pointed that out.”
Signorina Givanni asked Melina a question that Melina didn’t understand at first. The teacher asked it again, but slowly.
“How old am I?”
“Yup. That’s what she’s asking.”
“Veintiuno.”
“Ventuno is the Italian way,” the tall woman said.
“Oh, ventuno,” Signorina Givanni said with a nod as she began to struggle with something on the computer. Then she said something else, which Melina didn’t understand—but she didn’t need to, in order to know that she was frustrated with something.
“What’s the problem?” Melina asked the other woman.
“She’s just having trouble with some of the commands and formats. She’s not much of a computer person.”
Melina fired off a few instructions once she realized what Signorina Givanni was trying to do, and the other woman interpreted. A moment later, Signorina Givanni’s expression turned to one of appreciation, and she thanked Melina for her help.
“Hey, you think you could help me out too, since you seem to know a bit about computers?” the tall woman asked Melina.
“Sure.”
“I’m just right next door.”
Melina followed her into her own empty classroom. She saw students outside. Some were eating their lunch, while others mingled or ran around as if to burn off the energy they’d accumulated by sitting at their desks for so long.
Melina answered the woman’s questions and showed her some ways to set up various things on her own classroom computer. At one point, the teacher clicked on Yahoo’s homepage, which she had set in English, where a famous comedian was confessing to heroin use and dating minors.
“Oh, the things people fess up to these days,” said Melina.
The woman smiled.
“I’m a lesbian and I once stole some candy as a teenager. Oh shit!”
“Shhh! Watch your language.”
“But I missed my bus.”
“To where?”
“To Don’s house. You know, the president. I’m a friend of his niece’s. He lives just a few blocks from here, so I guess I could walk.”
“You don’t have to do that. If we hurry, I can drive you.”
“Oh, thanks!” said Melina. “Because knowing me, I’d get lost, close or not.” She had to run to keep up with the teacher after she pulled her purse from a locked drawer in her desk.
They exited the building at the other end of the hall, and Melina followed the tall woman to her SUV. “Hop in, Melina,” she told her after first unlocking Melina’s door and opening it for her.
The woman slid behind the wheel and buckled up, ordering Melina to do the same.
“I know I didn’t tell you my name,” Melina said.
The woman grinned, keeping her eyes on the road as she guided the vehicle out of the parking lot. “I guess I’m just good, aren’t I?”
“Hey, the best. So far, anyway.”
The woman’s grin widened.
“So what’s your name?”
“Nara.”
“Nara?”
Nara nodded. “Around school, though, I’m Miss Lorenzo. Ok?”
Melina found that she was looking forward to seeing both Nara and Signorina Givanni at school the following day.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.