Stolen Luck

DAY 3: STOLEN LUCK

After only spending two whole days in Italy, I was excited to tell a friend of mine, Joey, all that had transpired. We were both here for our school’s study abroad program and had met each other freshman year. The fact that we are both able to partake in this experience abroad is somewhat comforting. Still, two days. I can’t believe it’s only been two days. When acquainting oneself to a new environment, a series of eventful days can often feel like weeks in retrospect. In my assessment, this is likely due to the fact that those days have the potential to alter someone's mindset, mode of thinking, and general orientation. That, and, those days are probably far more eventful than the ones that trail behind them. Today, Joey and I were set to meet for lunch. There were about three minutes to go until he would arrive to pick me up. I’d told him over my computer that I could no longer contact him through my phone.

As I left my room, I noticed Rosa’s door was open. She must have already left.

“Oh, I think your friend is here,” Ms. Maria informed me.

As I opened the door, the scene that beset my eyes took more than a moment to process. Joey leaned against his newly rented moped, looking directly into Rosa’s eyes. She stood across from Joey, hands on her hips, pressing against her yellow, flowered dress. He joked and grinned. Rosa smiled and giggled.

“Mas!” Joey greeted me with a smile, turning in my direction, “Have you met Rosa? I think she lives in your area!”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” I shot back succinctly with a peeved facade of a smile.

“Well anyway, it was nice talking to you Rosa, but I gotta drag Mas here to a nearby restaurant.”

She waved him goodbye with a genuine smile. I sat on the back of Joey’s moped with a feeling of defeat. I may not have lost the game, but my chances are starting to look grim. But, I mean, of course. Why wouldn’t something like this happen? I haven’t had luck in the past, so why would it suddenly start now?

Joey sped through town. Sitting on the back seat of a moped elicited a strange feeling. The speed and wind felt great, but the positioning was a bit awkward. Was I supposed to hold onto my friend? Maybe. But if that isn’t what I’m supposed to do and I do it anyway, the situation will become super awkward super fast. That and the fact that holding other people already feels really uncomfortable, to begin with. That settled it; I would not hold onto Joey. Instead, I would flimsily grip my fingers below the groove of my seat in front of me.

We were seated at the restaurant.

Joey was taller than me by a few inches, his hair was slicked back, and his emotions were more outwardly recognizable. A large coffee-colored mole was being leased permanent residence by his left cheek. Joey’s Italian skills were alright, but mine were definitely better. I would say that I didn’t know who stood more of a chance with Rosa, but I did: it’s Joey. I could not stumble my way into his slick charisma if I tried.

“Wow. That Rosa girl. Do you think… Well,” Joey began to scratch the back of his neck with his right hand, “do you think you could get me in contact with her?

Yeah, I was kind of ticked off. It wasn’t Joey’s fault. Intentionally, at least. I seldom experience anger or intense jealousy. That being said, I’ve noticed that I always experience an abnormal (by my standards) amount of jealousy when I see other men talking to women I know, even if they’re women that I’m not particularly interested in pursuing. But here, here I felt that I actually stood some semblance of a chance. I’m unwilling to forgo this first.

“Well, my phone is broken. That being said, I could probably relay your information,” I responded to him.

Wait. I responded too fast. Should I actually be leaning into this? Should I have offered to relay his information? No, that’s fine. Well, it’s not, but it’s what I should be doing as a friend.

“How did you meet Rosa,” asked Joey.

“We live together.”

“WHAT?” Joey stood from his seat.

“Sit down,” I demanded politely.

Joey sat back down, his pupils darting and his eyes wide.

“Well, then you probably know her better than I do,” Joey correctly inferred, “Do you think I have a chance with her?”

“N-Yeah. Maybe? I don’t know.”

“Well, you spent a whole two days with her! Actually, I guess that’s not that long, but still.”

I would not entertain any notion that I should actually tell Joey how my previous days have been or inform him of what I’ve done. This is war. Okay, maybe I’m being a little hyperbolic, but I refuse to cede these grounds.

“I don’t know her all that well,” I lied.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t a complete lie. I definitely don’t know her as well as I could, but I definitely have some brush strokes of her personality.

“Anyway, how have your past couple of days been?” I pivoted.

“Oh, pretty standard. I like the area, but my host family makes too much noise. Although, the food has been really good.”

Too much noise? For you? You’re the loudest person I know. What in the world does that house sound like to even exceed your barbaric threshold?

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

This was my default answer to anything. Perhaps I said it a tad too much, but it fits almost any context. If somebody says something questionable but I don’t wish to make the conversation uncomfortable? Well, now I’ve relegated it to “interesting,” a word that I have utterly devalued to essentially mean “okay.” The difference between “interesting” and “okay” is that “interesting” has less of an ability to utterly deflate a conversation despite its synonymous usage. Perhaps I am actually implying genuine interest. Probably not, but the chance remains ambiguous enough for the phrase not to defeat the conversation. Although, tone is probably the most important aspect here. You might even get away with “okay” if your delivery is exciting enough.

“Have you met up with any of the others?”

Joey was referring to a couple of our other classmates that had chosen to study with us. If I was being honest, I didn’t care to see any of them. I want to feel like I’m immersed in Florence and in Italy. I don’t want to feel like I’m on a tour with some friends. I’ll probably try to find a new group to talk to while I’m here for the purpose of receiving the utmost authentic experience.

“No, no I haven’t.”

Lunch was interesting. Heading back to my host house, I could not help but reminisce on the night prior. Stepping through the door, I saw Rosa standing across the kitchen looking at her phone. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her on her phone yet. Perhaps she’s not addicted to screen time. That resonated positively with me.

“Hey,” Rosa said to me, looking up from her phone, “your friend Joey wants to grab gelato tomorrow. You down?”

NEXT CHAPTER: THIEF! THIEF?