six. marcello

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Marcello's itinerary for the group was loaded; literally jam-packed with non-stop activity for the next few days.

And since it's early evening when the crew checks into their hotel, they have free time to explore the surrounding area before their events begin around 7:30.

They're staying at the Hotel Sussex, about ten minutes from the airport and thirty minutes from the Universidad Nacional de Córdoba.

They're given dinner, but Mari suggests they see as much as they can before their motor tour that night through the city. They're about equidistant from the largest public park in Córdoba.

"Let's have a picnic," she suggests. "Let's eat dinner at the park."

So Lennon, Zayn, Calum and Luke ask the staff for extra blankets to take the short drive away to the park.

And they sit with their dinner at the edge of a lake, counting swans as night sets in Sarmiento Park.

"Shit," Lennon sighs, readjusting her leotard. "I'm sweating bullets guys."

"It's humid as fuck," Luke nods. "Is it supposed to rain?"

Zayn nods. "Tour's on mopeds, tonight," and he squints at the sky, laying backwards so his head is in Mari's lap.

She doesn't dare look at Lennon.

He shrugs casually. "I guess we're getting wet."

"Damn," Mari groans. "We won't be able to see everything," she squints at the sky. "Not if it rains."

Calum chuckles. "At least we'll be together, right Mari?"

She grunts. "Sure, Cal."

He laughs.

"You mean," Lennon grins, "At least we'll be with Marcello," and she sighs, falling backwards onto the blanket. "I thought my husband would be Brazilian, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe he's supposed to be from Argentina, instead."

"What's so great about him?" Calum asks, nose wrinkled. "It's like you girls can't close your mouths when he's around."

"Um, I can," Mari says. "Don't group me with Lennon."

She snorts loudly, rolling her eyes. "That's because you have Z--"

And she immediately shuts her mouth and looks away upon Mari's glare.

"--zip lining," she finishes. "Zip lining, and...and um, y'know, other things that start with Z!" Lennon smiles, clapping. "The letter of the day is Z and the number is 13! Thank you for watching Sesame Street!"

Calum laughs. "What?"

And Zayn's just laying there in Mari's lap, shaking his head against her leg. "You guys're weird."

Luke looks between them. "Am I missing something?" He asks.

"Yes."

"No."

"Whoa," Luke laughs. "You guys literally just said two different things."

"That is the definition of an opposite, Luke," Lennon replies, and even Mari can't help but laugh at that. "It's called an antonym. Like, yes and no. Or, smart and dumb. Me and you."

He pushes her. "Shut up, Lennon."

"What?" She laughs, clutching her stomach. "Today's all about learning, dude."

Calum snorts. "Okay, Lenn. Good."

And Mari opens her mouth to speak when Calum shakes his head, scowling. "I still don't get it. I still don't get what you see in Marcello," he flicks his eyes upward, "I don't--he's a fucking tour guide. You'll never see him again, Lennon."

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