Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

my drink. I turn, raising it toward the girls. “To a beautiful night with new friends.”
    They giggle, as expected. I wink, as required. Sandro drinks, as usual.
    An hour later, I bang Ailene and he takes Kerry.

September
    Chapter Eight
    Mia
    On Saturday, Lexi and I spend the day sightseeing. The weather is crisp and clear, a beautiful day for city walking and people-watching. The sky is a cloudless, vibrant blue as we walk down Via del Corso, popping into shops along the way. I buy postcards to send to Dad and Claire as well as Maura, Emma, and Lila.
    When we reach the turn for the Trevi Fountain, Lexi announces that we need to be eating gelato for our fountain selfies. We stop at a gelateria and order cones with two scoops: strawberry and pistachio. Lexi demands that we add panna, a thick cream, on top. It’s amazing. The strawberry tastes like fresh fruit on a summer day.
    Lexi tucks into her cone like she’s never had ice cream before. She’s laughing and twirling around in front of the Trevi Fountain, digging into her purse for coins. I wish I could be like her. After my second taste, all I can think about is the extra calories I’m consuming, the additional layer of cushion padding my waistline, the shrinking gap between my thighs when I stand with my feet pressed together. Pistachio gelato drips down the side of the cone and onto my wrist. I wish it would melt faster so it wouldn’t be so tempting, so I wouldn’t have to invent a reason for not enjoying it.
    “This is incredible. Con panna was definitely the right call!” Lexi calls out, licking the thick cream topping off her gelato.
    I smile weakly.
    “Tomorrow we will try the gelateria next to our apartment.”
    “Sure.”
    The pistachio gelato melts farther, the drops sliding down my arm. I fight the urge to lick my wrist and turn in front of the Trevi Fountain, snapping a quick photo of me posing as if I’m about to bite into the gelato. Bits of panna stick to my cheeks and nose. I SnapChat the picture to the girls—proof that I’m enjoying all the finer things Italy offers.
    “This is awesome,” Lexi chatters behind me. “In the middle of the city is this incredible fountain that was constructed centuries ago, and here we are, just eating gelato, walking by it.”
    Guilt blooms in my stomach. She’s right. I should be enjoying this moment, living in this moment, breathing in the atmosphere and committing this moment to memory. Instead, I watch Lexi and wait for her to close her eyes as she throws coins over her left shoulder and makes three wishes. Then I drop my gelato cone on the ground and feign frustration over my own clumsiness.
    Lexi licks her fingers clean.
    * * *
    At night I can’t sleep. I can barely breathe. The food I ate during the day runs through my mind on an endless loop.
    Cornetto. Gelato. Salad. Piece of bread. Apple. Pasta e fagioli soup.
    After an hour of restless tossing and turning, I finally get up and make my way to the bathroom. I leave the light off so I don’t have to see my reflection in the mirror. I don’t want to witness the shame, guilt, and disgust in my eyes. I don’t want to acknowledge the fullness of my cheeks or the second chin protruding behind my first one. My once slender nose has spread considerably; the graceful curve of my neck has disappeared; my ballerina body has morphed into the build of a linebacker.
    I’m fat.
    Disgusting.
    Obese.
    Kneeling in front of the toilet, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and stare at the porcelain. Then, I press two fingers of my right hand to the back of my throat and heave.
    Again.
    The contents of my stomach spill into the toilet.
    Again.
    Liquid gushes down my chin and slowly dribbles onto the toilet seat.
    Too messy, Mia. Get it together.
    Again.
    My throat feels rough—raw—but my mind is quiet. Relief courses through me, and I feel lighter, cleaner.
    Finally.
    I brush my teeth and use extra mouthwash, enjoying the sting in my mouth, the pain a reminder