Through Her Eyes by Ava Harrison Page A

to do for the rest of the day? What do you want to see?”
    “Funny, I haven’t thought about it.”
    “How about we have no plan? How about we let the nature, the scenery tell us what to do? We go where we feel we should.”
    “That sounds like a good plan.”
    “First stop: dinner. I haven’t eaten anything since—well I guess I haven’t had anything since yesterday, and I don’t count the gelato.”
    “What should we eat?”
    “I have a genius idea. We’re in Italy, let’s grab pizza.”
    “That’s genius. Pizza it is.”
    We make our way to the Piazza Navona. The grand centerpiece is a large fountain featuring images of the four river gods—Nile, Ganges, Danube, and Plat. Surrounding it are numerous restaurants and cafes. After a brisk walk around the square, we choose a small restaurant that offers everything, including pizza. This restaurant has the best view of the water illuminating the square which appears magical against the darkness of night. From our seats, we can see numerous artists setting up and musicians starting to play. It’s divine.
    We sit, and a pretty waitress comes over batting her big brown eyes at Chase. She places one hand on his bicep, and ice fills my veins. My visceral reaction is jealousy.This feeling creeping inside of me comes as a surprise. Why do I keep feeling like this? How can I be jealous? But it doesn’t matter, because I am. I’m jealous of this woman. I’m jealous that he might want her, and I’m jealous that she has the courage to go after what she wants. I’m not that fearless. I never have been. All those years I loved Parker from afar, but once he rejected me, I never dared try again.
    The waitress leans over suggestively to hand him two menus, and I shoot daggers at her. Chase waves the menus off and proceeds to order in Italian. I’m not sure what he orders, but it seems lengthy, and I think I hear the word pizza . She continues to swoon at his every word, her smile huge. He doesn’t even notice her advances, merely continues to stare at me from across the table as he orders. When she finally walks away, a small dimple forms in his cheek, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.
    “What are you looking at?” I ask him nervously. My hands tap in my lap.
    “Just you. There seems to be a lot hiding behind those gorgeous brown eyes.” I sit frozen, my face warming, and I’m sure he can’t miss the blush that must be apparent on my face. His lip ticks upward, his steel eyes glimmering. “I’m from the city,” he says, and my eyes dart up to his, my forehead puckering with confusion.
    “I thought you might be more willing to open up if I told you a bit about myself first.” He grins. “I’m an only child. I picked up my first camera when I was in high school, haven’t put it down since. I was your typical ‘hipster,’” he air quotes. “I wrote poetry, snapped pictures . . . I was very existential in my youth.”
    “How come I believe you still are?” My eyebrow rises, and he smiles back.
    “I guess only time will tell. After college, I traveled. I traveled a lot. I was kind of an adrenaline junkie. Skydiving, rock climbing, cliff diving, mountain climbing. You name it, I did it, and I brought my camera everywhere I went. I started to blog my adventures, and then I started an Instagram page and began posting my locations. As the time passed, I became more and more sought after, and now I make a living doing what I always dreamed.”
    “That’s incredible! I only wish that was my life.” That’s all it will ever be, though. A wish. The air in the room grows heavy around me. I want to crawl into a hole as he speaks, bury my head in the sand, and not see the jealousy coursing through my veins. It would be amazing to do what I love . . . be happy. I’m not sure how to be happy anymore.
    “It can be. It’s like I said before. I don’t know you well, but I can tell you’re lost. It’s like you’ve been told what to do your entire life,