1.1 | When In Rome ✓

01 | clean slate

01

c l e a n  s l a t e

Olivia stares nervously outside of her plane window, down at the beautiful beaches of Italy. 

Of course, the view was beautiful. Nobody could deny that. But, the events that had led her here, to this exact moment made her stomach curdle. 

Everything was still a blur to her. Watching her boyfriend crash the car they were in when they returned from a frat party. Screaming for him to break, to watch out for the 18-wheeler in front of him, being driven by a drunk asshole. Waking up with IVs sticking out of her body, numb from all the painkillers and anesthetic she'd been given. Surrounded by her family and friends a while later, as they all cried happy tears that she was alive. Learning Jackson didn't survive the crash. Wearing her best black dress to his funeral a week later. Crying her eyes out as she delivered her eulogy to him, her final love letter. Having her dean gently suggest to take a sabbatical. Listen to her mom talk about it, and encourage her to take a gap year. Agreeing, and numbly packing her clothes, and getting on this plane.  

It was all a blur to her. A surrealistic blur. A nightmare that she would wake up screaming from. But, it wasn't a nightmare. It was her reality. 

She remembered how wonderful her life had been before all of this. Getting into Harvard Law School with her 4.2 GPA. Meeting Jackson, and dating him a few months later. Having straight As in all her classes. Being president of more than one club. She had everything, but now it was all-

"Hey, are you alright?" The boy next to her asks, startling her out of her thoughts. 

She realizes she'd been crying. Warm, salty tears, dripping down her cheeks, as she sadly smiled, hit with nostalgia. 

"Me? Oh, yeah, I'm just fine." She says an octave higher than her normal voice, forcing a smile, feeling her insides crack and break like it always did when she pretended. Acted like everything was okay. 

"You don't look okay at all." The boy observes, taking out his headphones. "I'm Jackson." He sticks out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Jackson. Her vision blurs, and her head hurts again. 

"I'm Olivia, but I need to get to the bathroom." She said abruptly, standing up. 

He frowns at her, confused, but gets up to let her pass. 

She hurries down the aisle to the business class restroom, yanks open the door, then sits on the toilet seat. She pulls out her phone, then scrolls through her albums, before landing on the one she wants to look through again, what she'd been doing obsessively after the accident happened. 

Scrolling through the pictures brought a smile to her face as she relived those memories. Her and Jackson at the Fall Festival, drinking hot cider, her laughing at him, or his joke, wearing his football letterman jacket. Them at the Snow Ball his parents hosted, both of them looking winter-themed as Olivia wore a sparkly silver ball gown and he wore a white blazer. Jackson and her with his little sister, Maria, as they went trick or treating. Olivia was dressed as Harley Quinn, and Jackson was the joker. Maria insisted on being a princess, and the 16-year-old girl got a bunch on snarky comments she simply smiled about. Olivia swiped to the left, swiping to the next picture of Jackson and Olivia in their outfits for the fraternity costume party they went to. The same one that Jackson died after. 

Shoving her phone into her purse, she takes a deep breath in for four counts before letting out, just like her psychologist taught her. But on her way out, she chokes, and the tears slip, falling. One, drip, two, drip, three, drip, four-

"Excuse me, but the plan is going to land in 5 minutes. Please finish up quickly then return to your seat!" The melodious flight attendant's voice called out. 

Olivia wiped away the tears, before standing up shakily and walking to the mirror. Pulling out her nude lipstick, she applied a coat, then another, before finally flushing the empty toilet, and walking out of the small, airline bathroom. 

Some things, you could forget with a gap-year. But, Olivia doubted she could recover from this. 

After sitting down in her seat again, and putting on her headphones to ignore the conversations with the 13-year old sitting next to her, she started a random playlist and listened to it, not really paying attention. 

After a smooth landing with no turbulence, Olivia got out of the plane and walked into the Ciampino-G. B. Pastine International Airport, pushing up her sunglasses to her forehead, as she walked to the baggage carousel to claim her bags. 

She put her three different bags onto her Smart Carte and pushing it to the gate where she was supposed to be picked up. After a few minutes of neck-craning and apologizing after bumping into people, she finally spots a bored-looking woman with her name on a card. Pushing her cart towards her, she smiles, but Olivia can feel how fake it is by how much effort her mouth muscles have to put in to smile, and almost grimaces at this. The lady doesn't seem to notice as she grabs the bags and puts them into the trunk of the taxi. 

The lady keeps talking animatedly the whole drive, a huge difference from the bored facade she had at the airport. Olivia knew exactly what the driver was blabbering on about; she had been taking Italian since 9th grade but chose to only minimally answer. Right now, she was asking what a pretty girl like Olivia was doing in Rome, and Olivia gulped for a second, before a lie slipped easily off of her tongue, coming out in perfect Italian. 

"Io? l college stava diventando un po 'stressante, quindi ho decisio di prendermi un po' di pausa."

(Translation: Me? College was getting a bit stressful, so I decided to take a bit of a break. // Side note: I used Google Translate, so it might not be right, sorry!)

She paid the taxi driver $20, before stepping out into the warm street of Rome, and staring up at the massive Hotel Artemide in front of her. She knew that Jackson's parents insisted on paying for this, and she knew they were rich but didn't expect a hotel as great as this. She got to stay at a penthouse at one of the hotels in the Piazza Barberini Square and was completely shocked that Jackson's parents owned one of these suites. She really didn't need all of this. And, she probably wasn't going to stay here the whole time. Olivia knew that this was where Jackson used to spend his summers, but she never stayed here. This was Jackson's place, the one place he didn't feel comfortable sharing because he never wanted to flaunt his money in Olivia's face. 

But, here she was. In Rome. On a sabbatical. Staying at her dead boyfriend's penthouse.

And how she wished things would start looking up from now.