Free Getting the Boot by Peggy Guthart Strauss

watching her classmates head off to the cathedral, Joe turned back and winked broadly, a huge smile on his face. She felt like smacking him—he thought this was funny? Why the hell hadn’t he warned her? Sheela kept her head down, seemingly absorbed in her notes. She hadn’t looked at Kelly once.
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    â€œIdiot!” Kelly paced through St. Peter’s Square, blinking back tears and trying to guess the direction of the nearest metro station. Every slap of her flip-flops on the stones pounded in her ears like a gunshot. Rows of majestic statues stared down at her from the curving walls of the Vatican; even they seemed to disapprove.
    She had really, really screwed up this time. It was bad enough that she was breaking curfew almost every night and showing up late for class almost daily, but to not read the instructions and to show such disrespect in a holy place! Even Joe had taken five minutes to read the fact sheets.
    Kelly felt like puking. Sheela was right for lecturing her all the time; she had worked so hard to get here, to earn her parents’ trust, and all she had done lately was act like a jerk. Andrea was sure to tell Dr. Wainwright about this, and she’d probably mention all the times Kelly had fallen asleep in class, too. She wondered if she’d be sent home.
    Kelly gazed absently into the huge fountain that Andrea mentioned was designed by an artist named, fittingly, Fontana. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was nine-thirty; more than three hours until the group came back for lunch. Shopping on Via del Corso crossed her mind, but Kelly reluctantly pushed away temptation. Maybe she could still salvage something from this disaster. When life gives you lemons, make limonata.
    She turned slowly in a circle, scanning the piazza until she saw a tourist information office. She entered timidly, halfway expecting to be thrown out, but the cute young man at the desk couldn’t have been kinder or more sympathetic. And he spoke perfect English. He told her exactly how to get to the metro station, which ticket to buy, and how to find her stop. Kelly glanced at his name badge: LUIGI. Kelly thanked him and headed off toward Via Ottaviano with a new sense of purpose. Starting now, she’d prove that she deserved to be in Italy, do nothing else to piss off her teachers, and never blow off an assignment again.
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    A half hour later, Kelly was back on the familiar streets of Aventino. She stopped at the local pastry shop for a latte and a pane cioccolato —sugar and caffeine to fuel her journey. Up in her room, Kelly put on a pair of light gray pants, a gauzy, long-sleeve blouse, and a pair of black flats. She pulled her hair into a ponytail. Then she tucked the fact sheets, her sketchbook, and a couple of pencils into her bag and retraced her path to the metro.
    When she stepped back through the doors of the Vatican tourist office, Luigi beamed at her. “Perfetto!” He had a really sweet smile.
    â€œ Grazie. I have about an hour and a half before I meet my group. Is there a short tour I can take?”
    Luigi produced a small booklet and slid it over the counter. “Well, a day and a half would be better, but such is life. There are three tours, and this is the shortest one.” He circled something in the book. “Here.” He scribbled a note on a piece of official-looking stationery. “The line at this hour is way too long. Your friends will be gone by the time you get to the chapel. Instead, take the little bus that stops right out front. It will leave you at the side entrance of the galleries. Give this note to the guards, and they will make sure that you get inside with enough time to catch up with your group and see some masterpieces, too.
    â€œPerhaps your friends will be persuaded to come back with you another time and you can come and visit me again. But now you must run and enjoy the musei . Arrivederci, signorina.