When In Rome ► Timothée Chalamet

12 | Classmates

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"I'm heading out!" I yelled out into the apartment, grabbing my things.

Elliot taught me how to play the violin yesterday, which didn't go very well. I gave up halfway through the night, leaving him to serenade me on his own.

"You seem happy," the boy said, stopping me, "what's going on?"

"Can't a girl be happy to get to class?"

"Absolutely not," he laughed, "no one likes class, don't fool me."

"I'm not like other girls," I teased, briting into an apple, "didn't you know?"

"Fair, have fun in class."

"Will do," I winked, shutting the door behind me.

I walked towards the school with an extra skip in my step, anticipating what would happen after my final class ended. Last night seemed completely normal, but when I woke up this morning, I felt a strange connection to Timothee.

Perhaps it was because there was a picture of him all framed up next to my bed, but besides that, I think he may have won me over a little bit.

After all, he seemed to take interest in my interests. My curiosity still longed to know why he asked Elliot where to take me yesterday, but I was more than grateful that it happened. Seeing the Mouth of Truth in person with him was quite the experience.

I made my usual greeting to Professor Enzo, before taking my seat. An anxious smile was plastered across my face, and my pencil tapped quickly against the desk. I didn't think my unusual happiness was so noticable, so I flinched when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

"Psst!"

I dropped my pencil on the table, a tiny clatter ringing out into the classroom. Turning around in my chair, I came face to face with a brown-haired boy. I recognized him as Percy Stanton, a fellow classmate who had been sitting behind me for the past few days.

"You seem awfully happy," he smiled, raising an eyebrow, "what's the occasion?"

I had spoken to Percy before, but he's never inquired in anything other than the answers to Professor Enzo's pop questions. He was generally attractive, but not my type, with his strikingly hazel eyes staring back at me. However, I took complete notice of his Italian accent. I wanted to ask him if it was just part of his immersion experience, or if he was actually Italian.

"It's not an occasion," I shrugged, "and I'm not entirely sure where I'm going."

"But you seem happy about it, nonetheless."

"That's true," I nodded.

I wasn't keen on giving him information about Timothee and my past excavations, but his enquiring gaze seemed to draw the words out of my thoughts and off of my tongue.

"I'm meeting someone," I slipped, "we might go somewhere today."

"Oh?" he let out breathily, "a date?"

"No, we're just friends," I explained, "but we've been going on tours around the city recently. I'm not sure if we'll be doing it again, but I'm hoping."

"It's always good to hope," he nodded, "who is this friend you speak of?"

I might have let the rest slip before, but this time I was able to contain the name to myself. It wasn't my place to run my mouth off about things I wasn't sure were happening.

"Just a friend," I commented, "that's all."

I gave him a satisfactory nod, and spun back around before the class began.