Charlie raced across the front yard of The Parthenon, the house of the smartest girls on campus, praying that he wasn’t spotted from one of the large windows that faced the lawn. There was a slight slope, and with the afternoon rain and his already crazy feet, it wasn’t a surprise that he tumbled forward and rolled his way to the sidewalk. Feeling greatly defeated, Charlie remained splayed underneath the streetlight, imagining what his life was like before he’d fallen madly in love with Danielle Kettleburn. It was much less stressful than this, and his foolhardy decisions most definitely had better outcomes than he’d recently been experiencing.

“Are you all right?”

His eyes blinked open at the voice. Charlie focused on the head of hair that had popped into his line of vision; the light streamed through her curls, creating what could only be called a halo.

“I’ve been better,” he responded, unable to move, whether it be from his fall or the girl’s presence. She looked concerned and tilted her head, her very pretty hair cascading over her shoulder.

“That was a bit of a fall.”

Charlie shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against the gravel of the pavement. Where had he seen her before? She wasn’t Greek, he knew that much having been forced to memorize all of the first, middle, and last names of all the sorority girls on campus (‘It shows you pay attention---or that you’re a stalker, whichever works,’ President Lynch had said). He most likely shouldn’t bother having this conversation with her, but Charlie was unable to push himself up from the ground, whether it be from defeat or a slight concussion.

“Are you going to stay down there?” she asked.

“I need to wallow for a bit,” he admitted. The girl smiled and Charlie thought she would be on her way, but instead he watched her drop her bag and take a seat on the edge of the sidewalk, pulling out a book. He craned his neck to look her over, “You don’t have to stay.”

She smiled at him from over her shoulder, “It’s fine, I’d rather you didn’t get run over by a drunk bicyclist.”

Charlie snorted and laid his head back to stare up into the night sky again. He took a few deep breaths, the quiet of the night making his mind wander all across the universe. What was he doing, trying to serenade Danielle with poetry? She had that Rookwood bloke constantly at her heels, they were on and off, on and off. Charlie shouldn’t get in the middle, it was only going to cause problems. Plus, finals were starting soon and he needed to at least pass if he wanted to stay on the team next year. But what was he really doing, anyway? He’d never make it pro. His major in History wasn’t going to get him anywhere, it was all a big mess that he wouldn’t have to truly deal with until he graduated, if he graduated---

“Who is she?”

The girl’s voice broke through his runaway train of thoughts. Charlie finally sat up, rubbing the back of his head. She smiled at him again and he let out a breath, scooting forward to sit beside her on the curb.

“Danielle Kettleburn,” he responded, shaking his head, “It’s hopeless.”

“I could put in a good word for you,” she said, making Charlie’s back straighten. She laughed, “My best friend is pledging this semester.”

“What about you?”

The girl shook her head, looking down at the book in her lap, “No, I don’t believe I’m quite the type of girl.”

Charlie’s curiosity was piqued and he lifted his chin with a mock sense of questioning on his face.

“Oh yeah?” he said, stretching out his legs. The street was empty, as The Parthenon was located on the emptier end of campus to better maintain good study habits; the few parties they did throw were full of unexpected surprises from the girls that seemed to respect nothing more than a well-written essay and a good book. “And what type of girl are you?”

He watched her cheeks turn pink and she lifted her shoulders nearly to her ears.

“I’m not much of a social butterfly,” she admitted. Charlie pursed his lips together and after a thought, reached his hand far into his back pocket and pulled out the invitation that had been so curtly denied by Danielle. He handed it over to the girl, with a stern look.

“Here. Take this and we’ll see how social you can really be.”

“Oh, I couldn’t--”

Charlie tutted loudly, pushing the invite into her hand. It wasn’t everyday a precious invite to one of his fraternity’s parties was handed out. That was why it had stung so much when Danielle had rejected him so completely and fully. If she didn’t realize the chance she was missing out, Charlie could at least make sure that it didn’t go to waste.

“You sat with me to make sure I didn’t black out from a concussion,” he said, taking her hand and folding it over the invitation. The girl’s lips pressed together, her face a deep red. Charlie grinned at the sight of how obviously flustered she was. Good, at least he’d have something to look forward to on Friday. “I’m Charlie.”

Her eyes lifted from the invitation in their hands and she let out a breath. Charlie felt his chest twist. “Penny. I’m Penelope.”

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Sebastian laughed into Mackenzie’s mouth, their arms wrapped tightly around each other as they attempted to walk down the cobblestone road. Far away from the preying eyes of their professors and fellow travelers, the young couple was completely absorbed in each other, mesmerized by this new found love discovered on foreign soil.

He had never seen her on campus before, having avoided the Greek Life and all that came with it. Sebastian had no time for that sort of commitment. Coming from a low-income household, his parents couldn’t manage the tuition left over from the scholarships and grants he’d received, so Sebastian picked up the difference with a variety of odd jobs that left his social life barely breathing. Sebastian was determined to make the most out of every penny spent on his education, and though a semester abroad might seem like an unnecessary expense to some, his parents had understood the vital lessons of life and art that he would gain from spending time in one of the most naturally artistic countries in the world.

What he hadn’t expected was to find his muse on the streets of Florence.

She never had a hair out of place, but there seemed to be little effort put into her perfect curls. Mackenzie’s eyes were a luscious color and could pierce his heart from across the courtyard of their host’s villa. She didn’t simply talk to you, she held conversations, with a laugh so melodic it was surprising that people didn’t burst into song at the sound.

Sebastian’s eyes shut in pleasure as Mackenzie’s lips traced along his chin. They had slipped out of their final lecture of the day and had wandered the streets in a delirious blur of love and adoration. They had curfews even though they were allowed to explore, so they had to use their stolen time wisely. While they were completely enamored and entangled in each other, they moved toward their destination with a purpose. The only missteps were had when their feet got tangled up and a few moments pinning each other to a nearby wall freed themselves along with allowing a volley of kisses to be shared. He could kiss her for the rest of his life.

“We’re almost there,” Sebastian said into her mouth, pulling away quickly. He grabbed onto Mackenzie’s wrist and jolted into a run, the girl laughing loudly as her hair was blown back in the wind. They dipped between late night strollers and tables, dodged around corners and up short stacks of stairs. Finally the lights began to shine bright, bouncing their reflections off the river that lined the narrow streets Sebastian and Mackenzie were racing down. They didn’t have much time, and they had to make it quick.

“Do you have it?” Sebastian said over his shoulder, tugging Mackenzie up the stairs nearly two at a time.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, skidding beside him as they finally reached level ground. They stared down at the empty expanse of the bridge, wondering if their luck really could be that good. Sebastian gave one more quick look over his shoulder and then once again tore off, but this time Mackenzie ran ahead, her excitement pushing her forth. Sebastian’s run was interrupted with a skip, his excitement was so great, and it wasn’t until her heard the loud, familiar whistle of the Florentine police officers bouncing off the walls of the bridge that he dared to stop.

“Hurry!”

Mackenzie was already scaling the small wall of the bridge, pushing up on the tips of her toes to latch on the small padlock they had purchased earlier that evening to an empty spot on an already lock-decorated lamp post. It was the perfect place for their lock, she had stated, as there would be a light shining down on it, day or night. Sebastian couldn’t argue that logic, and kissed Mackenzie’s fisted hand before she tossed the key into the river.

“Go, go!” she exclaimed as he helped her down, her white skirt billowing. The police officer had started to run, his whistle fast and furious now with his heaving breaths, but he was no match for the two lovers as they disappeared into the narrow streets, guided by the moonlight.

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