Melina’s favorite time of day had arrived. As a visitor wanting to improve her Italian, she was allowed to use Signorina Givanni’s computer in her classroom every weekday at lunchtime at the college where she taught Italian literature. Melina had come to look forward to these two special hours, for she had a huge crush on the teacher that was growing by the minute. So much so that weekends had become incredibly long and boring.
Melina strode through the hallways toward Signorina Givanni’s room. Her heart began to flutter with each step she took. She realized she was self-conscious as well.
Was her hair okay? What about her makeup? Would the attractive teacher like her outfit?
To Melina’s delight, she had come to suspect that the attraction was mutual. Signorina Givanni not only looked like she might be a lesbian, but she also looked at her in certain ways and said certain things that gave her hope of there being some mutuality. Unless she was reading the teacher all wrong or was being deluded by pure wishful thinking, there was definitely something special brewing between the two women.
She arrived at the university at lunchtime and left after the afternoon break. Sometimes the teacher ate lunch in the classroom; sometimes she had errands to run.
Melina took a deep breath as she rounded the corner into the corridor where Signorina Givanni’s room was located. Even though it was all the way down at the end, she could see that the door was closed, which meant the teacher was out somewhere.
Feeling a little disappointed, Melina headed outside to wait in the sunshine until the teacher returned and opened the classroom’s outer door.
She exchanged hellos and friendly nods with a few of the students and even caught the eyes of a few male admirers before inserting the earbuds of her iPod into her ears. In no time, she was lost in the rhythm of the music, bopping around to its beat. Melina had danced in a few musical productions back in the States, and it was something she was quite good at.
When Signorina Givanni’s door finally opened, she and fellow teacher Nara were quick to compliment her steps and spins.
“You got the moves, girl!” said Nara. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“I’ve been dancing all my life.”
She translated for Signorina Givanni.
Signorina Givanni said, “Oh,” and nodded, flashing a beautiful white smile in Melina’s direction. “Sa ballare, bella.”
“Yes, you’re very talented,” Nara added.
Melina smiled, and then Nara headed back to her own classroom next door after they exchanged a few more words.
“It’s hot!” Signorina Givanni exclaimed in Italian, fanning herself.
Being from the desert, this made Melina laugh. “Non è caldo,” she said. Then, in very slow Italian, she managed to ask if they got cold and snow where they were.
“No snow,” the teacher said as she sat behind her desk, “but it sometimes gets cold.”
Melina made a face to show she didn’t like the cold.
“Signorina Lorenzo doesn’t like the cold either,” said Signorina Givanni, referring to Nara.
“Yes, Nara told me.”
“You know her name?”
Melina nodded. “She told me. What’s your name?”
“Ari.”
“Ari?”
“Well, Ariella. But Ari is what most people call me.”
“So, have you ever been to the US, Ari?”
Ari shook her head in a manner that suggested she wasn’t at all keen on the idea of ever visiting the US.
A few minutes later, the students in the next class began to trickle in. Melina made her way over to the computer in the back of the room. One of the students she’d often talked to handed her a list of words and asked that she recite them out loud as Ari threaded her way through the rows of desks, handing out papers.
Melina started reading the words on the list as Ari began heading up the aisle she was standing in.
The students erupted with laughter.
“Hey!” said Ari as she took the sheet of paper from her. Then she gave the girl who’d given her the list a mock look of reprimand before swatting her head with the paper and placing it on her desk. “Shame on you.”
It became obvious to Melina that she’d been asked to read some rather offensive words as the laughter slowly died down.
Melina studied for the next hour, stealing a glance at the sexy teacher every so often. At one point, she scribbled down the web address to her blog on a piece of paper and quietly strode to the front of the room. She handed it to Ari and was even turned on simply by the way she moved to take the piece of paper from her and studied it. Melina watched for a few seconds as the teacher’s attractive dark eyes, fringed with thick lashes, scanned the paper. Then she returned to the computer.
When the afternoon break arrived, Melina headed toward the front of the room once again.
“What is this?” Ari asked in Italian as Melina approached her desk.
As best as her current knowledge of Italian would allow her to, Melina explained that she kept a daily journal there.
“Ma non ho un computer.”
“Oh. You don’t have a computer?”
Ari shook her head.
Somehow, Melina wasn’t surprised to learn this. Ari didn’t seem like the technical type after all.
Ari rose from her seat and headed into the corridor along with her. Nara stood just outside her room talking to someone. She turned to face them after the person headed off down the corridor. “Hi,” she said with a friendly smile. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” Melina said. “I gave Ari the address to my online journal, but she doesn’t have a computer.”
“Oh yeah, she’s not the computer type.”
“Ciao, bionda,” someone said.
Melina turned to where the voice had come from and saw a student she’d spoken to a few times before. The student had marveled over the color of her hair, which she herself considered to be light brown. “Ciao,” she said back. Then she turned to Nara and explained that they disagreed on her hair color. “A lot of people consider it blond, but I always thought it was light brown.”
“Oh, really? ‘Cause I’d say it’s blond myself.”
Melina saw the questioning look on Ari’s face and said in Italian, “Everyone thinks I’m a blonde and don’t really have light brown hair. What do you think?”
Ari studied her long locks and said, “Mmm… è biondi.”
Melina laughed, and next, she asked Ari how old she was.
“Trenta.”
“Thirty? You sound so young.”
“Oh,” she chuckled. “Yeah, my mom always tells me I still sound 20 years old.”
Saying goodbye to both Ari and Nara, Melina already couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.