Read Online Kiss Me Goodnight in Rome (The Senior Semester Series Book 2) by Gina Azzi - Free Book Online Page B

Autostrade.
    “Yeah, okay. There’s a good steak place my papa likes on the way there.”
    “You’re reading my mind,” I tell him, thinking about the T-bone I’m going to order.
    He shrugs, changing the music to some house beats and increasing the volume.
    Changing lanes quickly, I pop into the fast lane and open my baby up, adrenaline coursing through my veins once more.

Chapter Fourteen
    Mia
    The weekend passes in a blur, with Lexi dragging me to museums, cafes, and bars. On Sunday night, I FaceTime with my dad.
    “Hi, Mia.” He grins at me from the screen of my laptop. “How are classes going?”
    “Hi, Dad. Great, thanks. I really like this one class I have on Italian Literature. We’re reading the classics, starting with Dante.”
    He nods. “That sounds interesting.”
    “Yeah. How are you?”
    “Good. Not too much happening over here. Claire and I are going to a Broadway play next weekend. The Book of Mormon .”
    “That’s cool. I heard it’s amazing; it got rave reviews.”
    “Hi, Mia.” Claire’s face pops onto the screen. “How’s Rome? Did you go to Villa Borghese yet?” She smiles pleasantly enough, tucking a piece of her golden hair behind her ear.
    Why can’t I warm up to her? Even after all these years, I still feel like she’s a stranger.
    “Hi, Claire. No, not yet. I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “It’s a wonderful museum. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
    I nod. “Thanks.”
    “Okay, well, here’s Dad.” She smiles tightly before Dad’s face comes back on screen.
    “Glad to hear that everything is going well, Mia. You really like your roommate and the Franchettis, huh? They sound like wonderful people.”
    I nod enthusiastically. “They’re really awesome. Anyway, I have to get going now. Paola and Gianluca are taking Lexi and me out.”
    “Oh, okay.” Is that a flash of disappointment in his eyes? Ugh, why can’t I ever do anything right? “I’ll talk to you soon then. Have fun, honey. Be careful.”
    “Thanks, Dad. Enjoy the play.”
    He nods. “I love you.”
    “Love you too. Talk to you soon.”
    “Okay, Mia. Take care now.”
    “’Bye.” I end the call.
    Why does it always seem like talking to him requires effort? Why can’t it just be easy, natural, like it used to be?
    “Mia?” Lexi knocks on my door. “You ready?”
    “Yeah, I’m coming,” I tell her, slipping on some sandals and opening my bedroom door.
    Paola and Gianluca take us to a classy, upscale wine bar. We sit around in the dim glow of candles and clap as a singer and pianist conclude their set.
    I’ve always loved live music. There’s just something about the performers, a glimpse of vulnerability in their courage, the way they expose themselves fully to a sea of strangers, the passion they have for their art, which I admire and respect. Clapping for the performance, I’m reminded of my own days up on stage, performing, dancing, enjoying the appreciative cheers from the crowd. A sharp pang of longing fills my chest and for a moment, it hurts to breathe. In many ways, losing dance was like losing my identity. And now, in Rome, I’m just starting to learn how to be me without dance. How to be just Mia. Not Mia, the ballerina, the dancer.
    “This is awesome.” Lexi smiles, taking a sip of her wine. She swirls the glass expertly. “The limpidity of this wine is perfect,” she says in a posh accent, turning up her nose snootily.
    Paola, Gianluca, and I laugh, enjoying Lexi’s impersonations. Pretending to be wine connoisseurs, we polish off several bottles before calling it a night. It’s strange to me, in a good way, experiencing this type of familial normality, having this easygoing, stress-free atmosphere in our home. My Italian transplant family has offered me more support, more balance, and a lot more laughs than Dad and Claire have in recent years. This realization causes an unexpected wave of sadness. I was always so close to Dad. Is the connection we shared for so many years,