When In Rome

Volando sopra il mondo

Flying over the world

"So, are you packed yet?" Miley asked, as we engaged in our nightly phone conversation.

I glanced over at the pile of clothes that sat, waiting to be put into my suitcase. "Just about. Well, I have all of the clothes out, but they aren't in a case yet. Does that count?"

"I think so," Miley laughed. "I can't wait. This time tomorrow, we're going to be either on a plane to Rome, or actually there. I can't be bothered to work it out now. It involves a lot of time difference and adding and subtracting."

"It does. My mom has made me promise that I'll call her, but I know that I'll end up ringing her at an ungodly time. Not that it should matter. If she wants to hear from me, she'll have to live with the late night or early morning calls," I said, sitting down on my bed.

"I love your considerate-ness," Miley said. "Dad's with us, so I don't have to worry about that."

Someone knocked at my door; I heard the doorbell echo through the house. Deciding to let someone else get it - it was probably one of mom's friend's anyway - I lay back on the mattress and lifted my hand to my lips, nibbling on my thumbnail slightly. Bad habit of mine. I've tried not to do it a thousand times, but always find myself gnawing on the nail when I'm not thinking about it.

"Are you biting your nails?" Miley snapped suddenly. "I've told you a thousand times not to bite your nails, yet you still seem to be doing it. Italian boys don't like girls who bite their nails, Lilly."

I raised my eyebrows, but took my fingernail out of my mouth. "How would you know, Miley?"

"Because I do. Just don't do it, okay? Your nails look terrible when you've been biting them," she said. "Aren't you at all bothered about what the cute Italian boys will think of you?"

"Not really," I shook my head, hearing something on the landing. Eh, somebody probably just climbed up the stairs. If it's mom coming to tell me how to exit the house in the case of a fire, I'll scream. I may even think about not returning from Rome. Moving there permanently. Then I'll definitely be a homeless person in Italy.

"But Lilly! They're so much cuter than the boys here in Malibu! I mean, there isn't much competition, but hey," Miley said, not thinking about the five boys that she'd admired today alone.

I laughed slightly, knowing that this wasn't true. She always found a hot guy anywhere she went, and usually ended up talking to him, while me and Oliver stood in the background, practically forgotten. A knock at the door got my attention, and I rolled my eyes. Seriously, would being a homeless person in Italy be worse than listening to mom's lecturing? I got up and walked over to the door. "I dunno... there are some pretty cute guys here in Malibu too."

"Like who?" Miley asked, obviously intrigued now.

I opened the door, ready to tell my mother that I knew how to say 'hospital' in Italian, and that I honestly doubted that I'd need to know it anyway, but found myself surprised. In a good way, obviously. "Oliver!"

"Oliver?!" Miley shrieked, and I blushed slightly, realising exactly what I'd said while I'd been distracted. I'd forgotten that I had the phone at my ear... and forgotten what Miley had just asked me.

"No! I mean...! He's at my door. He knocked on my bedroom door, and I was saying hi... and I didn't mean that..." I rambled, waving my free hand around wildly. "You want to talk to him?"

"No thanks," Miley said, not sounding like she completely believed me. "I spoke to him before. Hey, if you have a visitor, then I'll call you back later. I'd probably be better off packing my stuff in my suitcase to be honest. I have two weeks to speak to you!"

I laughed, still slightly embarrassed about what had just gone down. "Yeah, two weeks. Awesome. I'll speak to you later? Or in the morning?"

"I dunno. I'll definitely speak to you in the morning. But if I have time, then I'll call later, okay? I bet I'll be put to work. And you have Oliver," she said, sounding slightly weird when she said the last sentence.

"Yeah," I said, wrinkling my nose. "Yeah, I guess. Talk to you later?"

Miley said goodbye and hung up, and I turned back to my door. Seeing that Oliver was still standing as he had been about five minutes ago, I quickly motioned for him to come in. "Sorry, Miley. You could have just come in, you know. Instead of standing there, looking gormless."

"Gormless?" Oliver raised his eyebrows, walking into the room.

"Means 'like a lemon'," I said, following him into the room and closing the door. It was Oliver. Plus, with the door closed, my mom might get the message. That I don't need the useless lectures that she's got a ton of.

Oliver sat down on my bed, and picked up the book that I'd left on my bedside table. "Dracula?" What can I say? It's a classic, so if you say that you've read it, teachers love you. Plus it has blood-sucking vampires in it. Win-win. "How do you read this?"

I rolled my eyes, taking the book off him and opening it up at a random page. "Okay. Well, these random symbols here - you see them? - they're called words. And if you have the ability to read, then you can understand them. It's a difficult concept to grasp, but I'm sure you'll manage it, Ollie."

"Shut up," Oliver said, grabbing the book back and putting it on the dressing table once again. I noted the fake look of annoyance on his face, and smiled.

"I hit a sore spot," I said, dropping down onto the bed opposite him. "I think."

Oliver stretched out, and kicked me gently. "Take that, Lillian."

I laughed and kicked him back. "Take that back, Oliver. Ugh, that is so not fair. You don't even have a name that I can elongate. Olllivvverrr."

"That's the best you could do?" Oliver raised his eyebrows.

"You try to make it longer!" I challenged. "It's a very hard name to make long."

Oliver just rolled his eyes and looked around the room. "You haven't packed yet? I finished, and was bored. So I decided to bless you with my presence."

"Aren't I lucky?" I said, sarcastically. "And you only came here because you were bored? That's hardly nice, is it?"

"It's very nice. So nice. You're so lucky," Oliver said. "You're going to Rome tomorrow. With your best friends in the entire world - me being one of them - and you're going to have an amazing time."

I smiled at him. "You're so right. It's going to be so awesome. You looking forward to being in Italy with me - the single greatest person in the world?"

"More than you'll ever know," Oliver replied, and smiled at me.

---

"Please fasten your seatbelts, we're preparing for arrival at Rome airport. The local time is 10:46am. The temperature is 27 degrees celsius. Thank you for travelling with United Airlines, we hope you enjoy your stay," the pilot announced over the intercom.

I breathed a half sigh of relief. Well, the flight was almost over. I would soon be on the ground. It had been two long - seriously, fourteen hours? - and I'd hated every second of it. Miley and Jackson had fought almost the whole way, and I'd had to move to sit next to Oliver because I couldn't stand the arguing. The food was terrible, and the movies were rubbish. Plus we came into turbulence halfway there, and were lurching up and down for ages. But now we had to land, and I wasn't looking forward to landing.

"Lilly, you okay?" Oliver asked, the only one to notice my visible discomfort at the fact that we were about to enter the most dangerous part of flying. Okay, so I have no idea whether it's the most dangerous part of flying, but I can't imagine it'll be too safe.

I nodded wordlessly, and bit my lip. Hard. I didn't like this...

"We have to get down somehow, Lilly," Oliver said reassuringly.

"I know... but couldn't they like, drop an anchor and rope ladder and let us all climb down it or something?" I said, aware of how stupid that sounded. It was just as well that Miley was too engrossed in fighting with Jackson, otherwise she'd have definitely have said something.

Oliver, surprisingly, didn't mention how stupid the idea was. I was fully expecting something sarcastic, but it never came. "I wouldn't want to climb down. Thirty-thousand feet in the air? I'm not scared of heights, but I'd be scared of that."

"I know..." I sighed, looking at him. "Whatever. But I just don't want to land. We could like... blow up or something."

This time he couldn't hold the sarcasm in. "Blow up? What, precisely, do you think is going to blow up?"

"I mean crash or whatever," I shrugged. "Shut up."

Oliver laughed. "Lilly, it'll be fine. It'll all be fine."

I obviously didn't look too sure, because the next thing I know, he's reaching out and taking my hand, squeezing it slightly. It feels... nice. Why does it feel like this? It's strange... I mean, he's my best friend. Holding hands with your best friend isn't supposed to feel like this. You're not supposed to hold hands with your best friend at all. It just doesn't happen.

"I promise," he said, and he looked sincere. His brown eyes were looking at me both sympathetically and caringly, and I knew that he was right. What was I worrying about? The flight was almost over. It was nearly done. And the pilot landed thousands of planes a year. He wouldn't crash it; not if he could help it anyway.

"Okay," I nodded, feeling strangely out of breath.

Suddenly the plane touched down, bumping slightly on the ground. It rolled into the plane parking space or whatever, and came to a halt. Neither me or Oliver moved. People around us began to get up and heave their belongings from the luggage racks. Neither me or Oliver moved. Just kept looking at each other.

"It wasn't that bad, was it Lilly?" Miley's head popped up over the seats, and I yanked my hand from Oliver's grip so fast, it was like he'd burnt me. Then I stood up quickly, avoiding Oliver's eye.

"It was okay. I mean... I didn't like it, but I survived," I said, pulling my bag down from the compartment above. Miley did the same, and then followed me down the aisle and off the plane.

The heat hit me fast. It was warmer than we'd left it in Malibu, and looked very different. I turned to Miley, who was standing behind me, and motioned out at the view. "We're not in Malibu anymore."

"Definitely not," she agreed, and slipped past me to walk down the stairs.

I caught a glimpse of Oliver, who was looking at me, and smiled at him. He smiled back. Then I began to descend down the stairs, thinking furiously. What was that? Was there something there that I'd missed every time I'd been with Oliver before? Was it a one-off? I mean, he was being so nice. Was it a new thing, or had it been buried inside of me for ages? But most of all, what the hell was it? What was it? Why did I suddenly get breathless and feel butterflies?

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I looked back up at where Oliver was jumping down them. As I watched him, I pushed all thoughts from my brain. It was a one-off. And it won't happen again. Whatever it was.

I'M SO SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! My computer charger broke, and so I haven't been able to get on and access any documents for a week or so. And then this chapter took a while to write. But I promise, I shall update more regularly, and I shall review all stories I have been reading, and I shall PM a few people, and I shall most definitely be a better writer. Review, please! And I'll update faster!