Lost in Rome (10 page)

I took my cup and tasted it with a little plastic spoon. It was finely grated ice shavings covered with strawberry flavoring. “What about the garlic?”

AJ took a paper bag out of his back pocket. “I got your garlic, girl,” he said with strawberry-red lips.

He concentrated on his ice, then asked, “It's good, huh? Sometimes I eat it really fast to get a brain freeze.”

“You do that to yourself on purpose?” Rico asked.

AJ looked shocked. “You don't?”

The ice was good, but we were in a hurry. Aunt Maria wanted us back at Amore Pizzeria before dark. She said the sauce would take about six hours. I can't imagine something taking SIX hours to cook. I looked at my watch. “We better get going. What's next? Tomatoes?”

Rico had a big blob of ice on his tongue, which he tried to talk through. “It's near the Colosseum. Not far.”

We finished most of our ices, hopped back on the scooters, and headed toward Aunt Maria's tomato supplier. On the way, we crossed another piazza with a grand fountain. This one was chock-full of kids splashing around. A few adults, too—they'd rolled up their pants legs and waded in to cool off.

Large tents lined the square, filled with anything and everything you could think of: shoes, sundresses, jewelry, paintings, oil, flowers, cheese, fruit, and vegetables. If we weren't racing to get tomatoes, I totally would've shopped.

As I glanced around, I saw the Colosseum from a distance. The first thing that struck me was its size. It was massive, like a huge, ancient, crumbling stone football stadium. The second thing I thought was how strange it was that this ruin was right there in the middle of a city. The crumbling building was surrounded by a busy street, people taking pictures and buying souvenirs from men in red gladiator robes and helmets topped with Mohawk brushes.

I turned my head to make sure I didn't miss seeing another timeworn treasure.

That's when I saw something—well, someone—that surprised me.

Lorenzo.

I whipped my head around and said to AJ, “Lorenzo's following us.”

He tilted his head, confused. I repeated myself louder, but got the same reaction. That probably meant that Rico hadn't heard anything that Gianna had been saying.
Ha!

When we parked, I took off my helmet, fluffed my hair, and casually scanned the area, which was crowded with Colosseum viewers.

“Don't look now,” I said to AJ, Rico, and Gianna, “but Lorenzo is behind us.”

Rico moved the scooter's side mirror so he could check. “Yup,” he said. “It's hard to hide that huge head of hair.”

AJ said, “If I didn't think he was such a jerk, I might be jealous of it.”

Gianna added, “It is kind of fab.” And she sighed. I think she really had a thing for him, which wasn't good, since in my book, he was suspect numero uno in the sauce sitch, if you know what I mean.

I guess I was the only one not in love with Lorenzo's hair. “Can we forget about the hair for a minute? Is anyone wondering why he's following us?” I asked. Without letting anyone answer, I said, “I think I smell something.”

“It wasn't me,” AJ protested.

“That's not what I meant,” I snapped. “I think that batch of sauce was sabotaged.”

“And you think it was Lorenzo?” Rico asked.

“He was alone in the kitchen,” I pointed out.

“How do you know that?” Gianna asked.

Rico said, “It's amazing what you can learn when you're crouched on the floor in Jane Attilio's apartment.”

Gianna asked, “What? Crouched?”

AJ said, “Don't worry, I don't get it either.”

Gianna finally realized what we meant. “You listened to my private conversation?” she shrieked.

“You let Lorenzo in the kitchen,” I said defensively. “Pizzeria de Roma is Amore's biggest competition. Don't you think that was, like, a bad idea?”

AJ said, “Whoa. Stop right there. He was in Maria's kitchen? Lorenzo?” He threw his hands up in frustration. “He would totally ruin the sauce.”

“No way,” Gianna said. She tilted the scooter's mirror to catch a glimpse of him. She studied him for a second. “You think?”

“Totes,” I assured her. “And I think he's following us to find out where Maria gets her stuff.”

“Or maybe he's following me,” Gianna said.

I loved her optimism, but she just wasn't being realistic. “Don't worry,” I said. “We'll get back at him.”

AJ asked, “Like, how? Are we talking about food contamination? Or maybe give them a little cockroach infestation? A health code violation? A huge ‘closed for renovation' sign?”

“Your mind is way more creative, and scarily sinister, than I'd ever imagined,” I said to AJ.

“Really, dude,” Rico said. “Remind me not to make you mad.”

“So, what's the plan?” Gianna asked.

“It's brewing,” I assured them. “You leave that to me. We'll get him when he least expects it.”

“Cool.” AJ looked at his watch. “But right now we need to track down some tomatoes. Or is it tom-ah-toes?”

No one answered his question.

Rico unfolded the paper with instructions and looked around. “They're there.” He pointed to a nearby open-air market.

“But Lorenzo will see where we get them,” I said. “He'll try to copy Aunt Maria's sauce.”

“Fret not, Pizzeria Matchmaker, I'll take care of that,” Rico said. “You get”—he checked the paper—“a hundred tomatoes.”

“I'm on it,” I said. I ran about two steps, then turned back to Rico. “Don't actually injure him.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Rico said. Then to Gianna, he said, “You're helping me.”

“I am? I don't know; that's not really my style.”

“Make it your style,” I said. “This is kinda your fault. Aunt Maria told you to stay away from him.”

“She also told you to ‘no mess with the love,' ” Gianna said.

“True, but that hasn't been a disaster,” I said.

“Yet,” she added, and left with Rico.

I hoped that wasn't true.

AJ asked me, “What do you want me to do?”

“Stay here and guard the garlic,” I said. “If you see me do this”—I flapped my arms like a bird—“that means I need help with the tom-ah-toes.”

“So, I'm your wingman?” he asked.

“If that's what you wanna call it. Sure.”

“I'm calling it that,” AJ confirmed.

Maybe I should tell you what my opinion was of AJ at this point. I liked him. Not
liked
liked (well, maybe a little). I thought he was a fun wingman to have around. But if those tomatoes grew feet, organized into an army, and started taking over the planet, I don't know that I would want him in my rebel troop. I didn't think he could handle a serious zombie tomato event.

Zombie tom-ah-toes?
Now, that was an idea for a story.

I found the vegetable stand in the outdoor market where Rico had directed me. The tomatoes looked red and ripe and without the slightest hint of coming to life with a desire to take over the planet.

“
Buongiorno
,” a woman wearing a short black apron with pockets said. “I help you with something?”

“
Sì
. I am Lucia Rossi, Maria's niece. She sent me to get tomatoes for her.”

“Ah,
sì
. You are early this week. She was just here.”

“Right. I know. We had a little sitch—situation.”

She looked at me like she didn't understand.

“You see, my sister Gianna, she likes this boy. The kind that she shouldn't like, if you know what I mean. And, well, she let him into the kitchen of all places, and—”

The woman stared at me blankly. She didn't follow what I was saying. “You know what?” I asked. “Never mind. I'll just take a hundred tomatoes.”

She hoisted a jug onto the table and then another, and another and two more. Four.

“What's that?” I asked.

“For Maria, I peel and crush. Always I peel and”—she smashed her fist into her palm, like, really hard—“crush.”

Now,
that's
a woman I'd want in my rebel army troop.

“Gotcha. A lot of crushing.” I looked at the jugs. Now I knew why Aunt Maria had sent all four of us. I couldn't carry all this. I stepped out into the open space and flapped my arms, but my wingman was nowhere to be found.

Grrr.

The tomato woman looked at me. “You okay?”

“Sì.”
I took two of the jugs. “I'll come back for those.”

“No problem,” she said.

I carried one in each arm. Man, they were heavy. How did Aunt Maria do this? She must've had some kind of system. “Oh.” I turned back to the woman. “What do I owe you?”

“You no worry. Maria never need to pay with me.”

I nodded.

Then she asked, “You don't have the case?”

“Case of what?”

“Maria, she put the tomatoes in a—” She made a motion with her hands like a big square. “It has a handhold, and she pull it on the wheels.” She pointed to the jugs. “Too heavy to carry like that.”

No duh.

“Box with a handhold, huh?” I set the jugs down and looked around the market. “Gimme a minute, please.”

“Sure. You have one minute, two minute, as many minute as you want.”

I walked around to the various vendors. I smelled leather and oil, even though I saw neither.

“
Acqua
?” a man selling bottles of water asked me. He kept the bottles in a cooler with a handle that slid out to roll it along.

I looked into it. He only had three bottles left, I guess because it was late in the day. “Can I have all three bottles?” I asked.

“Sì!”
He seemed excited to sell out.

“And your cooler, too?”

“This?” He pointed to the cooler. “No. No. Not for sale.”

I reached into the back of my pocket. “How about five euros?”

“No. No.” He shook his head.

“How about ten euros?”

“No.” He considered. “Fifteen euros?”

“Deal,” I said, and
BAM!
I had a way to get the jugs to Aunt Maria's without my arms falling off.

I rolled it behind me, loaded the jugs, and returned to the scooters, where AJ stood eating a
panino
.

“Seriously? You left your wingman for a sandwich?”

He looked at the sandwich. “Sorry.” Then he said, “I thought I was the wingman.”

“You're mine and I'm yours. We're each other's wingman. That's the way it works.”

“Really?” AJ asked. “You think?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He looked at the cooler. “What's that?”

“One hundred tomatoes. Peeled and”—I smashed my fist into my palm—“crushed.”

“Sweet.” He bit the
panino
. “You want a bite?”

“I guess.”

•  •  •

By the time Rico and Gianna returned, laughing, AJ and I had lifted the cooler onto the back of one of the scooters and secured it.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“You should've seen how Rico distracted Lorenzo,” Gianna said.

“That dude is such an idiot,” Rico said. “I blew cherry pits through a straw and pegged him right in the face.” He laughed so hard he could hardly get the words out. “I was hiding, and he was looking all around, like ‘What was that?' And he ran in our direction, but we had moved.”

Gianna said, “When he got to the place where we had been, Rico blew another from a totally different spot.”

“Then we split up and pegged him from two sides. He didn't know what to do with that,” Rico added. To Gianna he said, “I swear you've done that before. Your aim was on the money.”

“First time, I swear.”