HALFBLOOD DANCER

5. APOLOGY

After the intense and bizarre first day of class I had today, Nina knows I need a distraction and takes me to dinner at one of the local restaurants near the guesthouse.

I don't think she knew what she was getting herself into.

Being alone with her, I find myself revisiting my encounters with Sandro Bianchi. Since we left the guesthouse, I haven't been able to stop talking about it, pausing only to order our food after the waiter's third attempt.

"I feel so stupid," I admit once the waiter walks away. "With all my stupid fears and anxieties..." I pick up the glass of water and take a sip. "This is what my dad has done to me. I'm such a—"

"Lu, you've got to give it a break," Nina interrupts me. "That could've happened to any of us. No one knew who he was. And from what you've told me, he's the one that was startling you and creeping up on you like a crazy stalker," she tells me. "Besides, we all saw the way he was staring at you."

"Well, I think we know why he was staring at me like that...I punched him." I let out a heavy sigh. "I still can't believe I did that."

"If you ask me, he had it coming. But...who knows, maybe he was mad at you and was even planning his revenge," she teases, trying to lighten my mood, no doubt.

"Ugh! I hope we don't ever have to see him again..."

"Whoa...hold on a minute. I don't have to agree with that, do I?" she asks but doesn't give me a chance to answer. "I mean, have you seen the guy?" Again, I open my mouth to reply but she prevents me from speaking, gesturing with her hands. "No, no...you cannot tell me he's not super-hot and easy on the eyes. I hope we do see him often, if not every day," she declares. "I mean, we can't deny our eyes such a delicious treat. Now, can we?"

"I don't care how good-looking he is, Nina. I really don't want to see him again. Not only did I punch the man, but every time I ran into him, I acted like a clumsy scaredy-cat and an incoherent idiot. It's too embarrassing!" Not to mention the fact that he still makes me anxious, and he has been kissing me with bloody lips in my nightmares for days now.

It's one thing to dream about a ghost that you may never see again, but it's another thing to have such dreams about someone you're forced to see every day.

We finish our dinner and go back to the guesthouse. Once we're in our room, Nina goes to the shower while I sit on my bed, getting comfortable with my iPhone in hand, to start writing the emails I promised to send to my father and Lori every day. With the time difference and our busy schedules, I hope these daily emails will prevent them from calling me all the time.

I open the app and see they both replied to the emails I sent them Saturday. After I read the one from Lori, I open my father's, my fingers trembling.

"Well, this is better than I expected," I mutter as I read his email, wondering about that District 10  he keeps mentioning. Before I left, though he didn't talk to me much, he made it quite clear that I needed to stay away from that district. The way he insisted then, just like he's doing now in his message, seems awfully obstinate and suspicious, even for him.

                                                                            *****

Our second Art History lesson takes place at the Museum of Classical Arts. The building is rich with magnificent sculptures and interesting paintings displayed everywhere. Its structure is also impressive. It's a classical architecture exhibiting old, yet ageless, gray marble floors and white walls all throughout, with the perfect lighting setting, making the place sort of magical.