QUINN
JUNE — SIX WEEKS TO WIN OVER THE FACULTY
“Aperol Spritzes and bikinis!”I cheer as I burst into Inez’s room. “Three days of hot springs and calm Mediterranean waters.”
I pull up short when I realize my best friend’s no more than a lump under her bedspread. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”
The blanket starts inching down. First, her fingers appear, then her tired eyes, and then her red nose. She sniffs and turns her face into the pillow. “I’m dying.”
“No! But Ischia!”
She huffs out a laugh. “There’s no way I’m taking a train down to Naples, walking around Pompeii in this heat, and then sitting on a ferry for an hour and a half.”
We fought for this assignment. Our program has weekend trips for the students, and each requires two university representatives for liability purposes. Dr. Guarino and Andrea took the students to Venice and Verona the weekend we went to Tuscany. Dr. Keck and Sydney are taking the students to Florence in a few weeks. But we have an odd number,so when the time came to discuss the southern Italy trip—a stop at Pompeii for Colton to lecture before heading on to Ischia off the coast of Naples—Inez and I argued that we should both join.
Ischia’s a small island next to Capri, less touristy but no less beautiful. It’s famous for its festivals—one for each patron saint, which may outnumber the actual residents. While it’s less academic than some of the other trips, we argued attending one of those festivals is a vital cultural experience.
Plus, beaches.
But now Inez can’t pull herself out of bed and all that hard work’s gone down the drain.
“God, this sucks,” I say as I drop on the bed next to her.
“You’ll be fine. We only need two representatives, so it’ll still work with you and Colton.”
My heart jumps. Things between me and Colt have been back to normal this week, just as long as I ignore the way my stomach dips whenever he gets close. But a weekend away? It feels risky when we’re still on shaky ground.
“We need to find someone to replace me. It can’t be too hard to convince one of the other professors to go to a gorgeous island for a few days, right?”
“No!” she says with too much force. “I’d feel so guilty keeping you here. You’re going.”
“Like hell I am. If you’re dying, then I’ll be here feeding you soup until the end.”
She scooches up to the headboard and lays her head on my shoulder. “I love you. You know that?”
“Good, ‘cause it would be awkward as fuck if you didn’t when I’m obsessed with you.”
She laughs. “I’m not letting you miss Ischia. I feel like death, but I’m notactuallydying. It’s just a crappy cold. You’d spend the whole weekend watching me sleep.”
“I’m committing to the Edward Cullen-level of creepy, and you can’t stop me.”
“Please go. I’ll feel horrible if you stay.”
I sit up, turning to get a better look at her face. She’s sweet and wonderful and, as an extension of that, has a terrible poker face. “You swear you’re okay?”
She smiles. “I swear I’m okay.”
I chew on my lip. “So, just me and Colton?” My voice is oddly high, and I see her eyes narrow.
“Yes.” She draws out the word like it’s a question. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” I pop thepat the end, and she raises an eyebrow.
“You’re lying! Why is it a problem?”
I groan and look up at the ceiling, unable to meet her eyes. There’s a very good chance she’ll make this into a capital T thing, but I’ve tried to keep it to myself for the past two weeks, and I’m losing my mind. “We may have kissed after we went dancing.”
Her squeal echoes through the apartment, and I’m beyond thankful that Colton’s out.
