Ella Sullivan is an 18-year-old high school senior with a sharp wit and a penchant for sarcasm. Her life revolves around her close-knit group of friends and the love for her dog. But her world is thrown into disarray when she encounters Ms. Catherin...
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———༺✵༻——— POV Ella ———༺✵༻———
I sit cross-legged on the hotel bed, my phone in my hands, absently scrolling through Instagram before switching over to my texts. The excitement of being in Italy for the first time hasn't quite sunk in yet; everything feels dreamlike, almost too good to be real. The warm sunlight spills through the thin curtains of my room, promising a hot, bright day ahead. I glance at the temperature—77 degrees Fahrenheit. Perfect weather for the first real day of our trip.
But my mind isn't on the scenery outside or the excitement of the day. It's on her.
I click into Catherine's contact, my fingers trembling ever so slightly as I type out a quick message.
Ella Hey, what room are you in? Do you have it alone? Can I come over real quick?
My thumb hovers over the send button for half a second, a tiny surge of adrenaline bubbling up in my chest. Then, with a flick, I hit send, the message flying off into the void of space between our two rooms. The seconds stretch out as I wait for her to respond. It's only been half a day since we arrived, but the tension, the barely-contained energy between us, feels like it's been simmering forever.
A soft chime alerts me to her reply, and I glance at my phone.
Catherine Room 207. Yeah, come over.
My heart skips a beat. I feel the familiar rush of anticipation, the electricity that sparks to life inside me whenever I know I'm about to see her.
I stand up from the bed, smoothing out the light summer dress I picked for the day. Its soft material clings to me just enough to hint at my figure, the floral pattern subtle against the pale blue fabric. I slip on a pair of sandals, the leather straps hugging my feet. But before I leave, I glance around the room and grab a few things from my suitcase, tucking them into my small crossbody bag.
I don't dwell on what I'm taking with me, but I know exactly why I need them. I need them for her. For us.
Abby and Jess are on the other side of the room, still lounging on their beds, scrolling through their phones. I glance at them, trying to think of something to say that won't raise suspicion.
"I'm gonna go check out the coffee bar downstairs before the group meets," I say casually, making my way toward the door.
Abby barely glances up, distracted by her phone. "Sure, grab me a croissant if they have any?"
"Will do," I reply, my tone light and easy. But as I reach for the door handle, I catch Jess's eye. Her gaze is sharper, more knowing than Abby's. She arches an eyebrow at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, but she says nothing.
She knows.
We don't talk about it, but Jess has always been perceptive. I hold her gaze for a moment, waiting for her to say something, to call me out. But instead, she just gives a small nod, almost imperceptible, letting me off the hook without a word.
