Rampant by Diana Peterfreund Page B

what happened! Maybe we should just pack it in, don’t you think, Astrid?”
    I did indeed, but clearly Phil had other ideas.
    “Don’t do that!” Seth said, in a tone as tempting as molasses. “I’m sure we can salvage the evening, even if we are down a few euros and a passport.”
    “And a bus pass,” I grumbled.
    Seth looked at me. “Tell you what. I’ll spot you your first gelato.”
    “How chivalrous.” Phil beamed at him. “Looks like we fell inwith a couple of white knights, Cuz.”
    Knights and maidens. Perfect. And Giovanni was still watching me in silence. As Phil and her new conquest wandered back down the alley, he spoke.
    “I am sorry about your purse. Maybe I should have let you deal with that pickpocket in your own way.”
    “Right, the way where I wouldn’t have laid a finger on him? Think that would have gotten me any farther?”
    “No. You’re an unusual warrior.”
    “You have no idea.” If he thought I was fast running after a pickpocket, he should see me chasing unicorns.
    Giovanni’s lips quirked the tiniest bit, but it was enough to open up his whole face. He wasn’t as tall as Seth, nor as broadly built, but I liked the look of him. “You’re not really in med school, are you?”
    I lowered my head. So much for that. “Try high school. I’m sixteen.”
    “I just turned eighteen.” He pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s not too bad.”
    Now I met his eyes in challenge. “Too bad for what?”
    “To do this.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and offered me his elbow, and as I took it, thrills radiated out to the ends of my hair and down to my toes. “Come on, Astrid the Warrior.”

6
W HEREIN A STRID M AKES THE L EAP
    S ETH TOOK US TO T ESTACCIO , a neighborhood filled with nightclubs and street performers along the edge of the river. I’d never been much for clubbing, but after the silent darkness of the bone-strewn Cloisters, pounding techno music and flashing lights were a welcome change. The place was packed with young people, they didn’t ask for ID at the door, and women in tight tops wandered the place passing out brightly colored shots in test tubes. Seth took an assortment and passed them around. Mine was yellow and lemon flavored, and Phil had both a red and a green. Giovanni took an orange one during the first round, then laughed and passed his purple follow-up tube back to Seth.
    We soon got separated from Phil and Seth in the crowd, which didn’t surprise me, though it did mean Giovanni had no one to dance with but me. Unfortunate, since Phil is a much better dancer than I am. She does this move where her hair swings in syncopation with her hips that I have never been able to replicate. Giovanni was a good dancer, too, but a few momentsafter we lost the others, he grabbed my hand and pulled me off the dance floor.
    “It’s too loud in here,” he shouted in my ear. “Want to go someplace more quiet and talk?”
    I knew what those code words meant. Talk means make out. “I shouldn’t leave Phil,” I shouted back.
    “Good point.”
    We stood there for a few moments, watching the crowd gyrate. Was I really that bad at dancing that he wouldn’t be seen with me out there? I looked at him and he leaned in again.
    “I have to leave,” he said. “Please come with me. I don’t want to leave you here alone. We can just go outside, or I think there’s a café next door.” He turned and started for the exit, and I followed him, baffled.
    As soon as we were beyond the pounding of the music, he stopped and looked at me, his jaw set. “I’m sorry about that.”
    “It’s okay,” I said. He didn’t look like he wanted to make a move on me at all. “What’s wrong?”
    “Headache. I hope you don’t mind.”
    I shook my head. “Not at all. Want to get some water or something? Maybe you’re dehydrated.”
    He looked away. “Sure.”
    We bought a bottled still water and an orange Fanta from a vendor on the corner, then sat on a stone wall near the