convey!
Feeling a lot calmer than she had the night before, Janey scrolled back down to the last comment she’d looked at and started reading upwards. Distracted by playing around with the background wallpaper on her page, it took her a while to notice that a new comment had been posted, just above Em’s.
Immediately, she felt a chill run up her spine.
Hey loser. Don’t read so much into 1 lousy kiss, will ya?
Fellini
Without warning, Fellini and his chillingly familiar car crash avatar had popped up again. In real time .
Janey stared at the posting in horror. She hadn’t said anything about any kiss in her latest blog about Rome. It had been something so private, and so special, that she’d only planned to tell her besties about it.
Janey’s mind spun. Who was this creep? That guy in 1B whom she’d never even met? She refused to believe it could be Luca, slamming the lid on that traitorous thought, though a tiny, rational part of her mind insisted that it could be. She forced her shaking hands into action.
Who’s the loser? U following me?
x X Janey G X x
There was a long pause. Janey refreshed her page a few times. When nothing new appeared, she thought, with relief, that maybe Fellini was logging out. But one click later, she saw:
Lets just say I know what u did yesterday & Im keeping MY I on U.
Fellini
Janey leapt away from the screen as if someone had doused her with a bucket of iced water. She scanned the study as if Fellini had somehow managed to plant a camera in there with her.
She sat back down slowly. Her stomach did a double backflip when she refeshed her page again and read:
Every breath U take every move U make baby.
Fellini
Chilled to the core, Janey hurriedly shut down. She threw on the orange tank and white shorts, grabbed her rucksack and fled into another bright, hot and lazy Roman afternoon feeling as if Fellini was right behind her and breathing down her neck.
Almost unconsciously, Janey headed away from her aunt’s villa in an unfamiliar direction, wanting to lose herself in some obscure but busy corner of town where Fellini couldn’t possibly be.
So she cut through the historical centre of Rome, heading across the River Tiber to a district called Trastevere.
Trastevere didn’t have a whole lot of obvious tourist destinations, but her guidebook indicated it was still one of the most happening areas of Rome. It was a picture-book old quarter of the city where real Romans still lived, packed with bars, cafés, hip shopping spots, and atmospheric public squares. It was also riddled with narrow cobbled streets, making it a great place to get lost in the crowd, which was exactly what Janey needed. To lose that horrible feeling of being watched by unseen eyes. She needed time to just think and chill .
By the time she crossed the Ponte Sisto into Trastevere, the breezy outfit she’d thrown on just over an hour before was plastered to her willowy frame but her usual positivity had returned. As she looked around, she saw hundreds of people of almost as many nationalities and Janey could feel herself relaxing a little. Fellini – whoever he was – couldn’t possibly be here in Rome actually tailing her around. He was probably some spotty twelve-year-old moron from Florida or somewhere.
Janey followed the swell of people ducking into and out of the medieval churches, marvelling at the ancient mosaics and astonishing domes, sculptures and icons that featured on almost every building. In between, she browsed the leather goods stores, specialty paper shops and museums that seemed to occupy every street corner. She kept herself hydrated with slices of fresh watermelon, and one sweet and icy grattachecca after another.
Trastevere was the perfect antidote to the poisonous situations she’d been experiencing with her aunt. The streets were crooked and crowded with ancient apartment buildings and villas that seemed to lean into one another. High above her head, the lines of colourful
Feeling a lot calmer than she had the night before, Janey scrolled back down to the last comment she’d looked at and started reading upwards. Distracted by playing around with the background wallpaper on her page, it took her a while to notice that a new comment had been posted, just above Em’s.
Immediately, she felt a chill run up her spine.
Hey loser. Don’t read so much into 1 lousy kiss, will ya?
Fellini
Without warning, Fellini and his chillingly familiar car crash avatar had popped up again. In real time .
Janey stared at the posting in horror. She hadn’t said anything about any kiss in her latest blog about Rome. It had been something so private, and so special, that she’d only planned to tell her besties about it.
Janey’s mind spun. Who was this creep? That guy in 1B whom she’d never even met? She refused to believe it could be Luca, slamming the lid on that traitorous thought, though a tiny, rational part of her mind insisted that it could be. She forced her shaking hands into action.
Who’s the loser? U following me?
x X Janey G X x
There was a long pause. Janey refreshed her page a few times. When nothing new appeared, she thought, with relief, that maybe Fellini was logging out. But one click later, she saw:
Lets just say I know what u did yesterday & Im keeping MY I on U.
Fellini
Janey leapt away from the screen as if someone had doused her with a bucket of iced water. She scanned the study as if Fellini had somehow managed to plant a camera in there with her.
She sat back down slowly. Her stomach did a double backflip when she refeshed her page again and read:
Every breath U take every move U make baby.
Fellini
Chilled to the core, Janey hurriedly shut down. She threw on the orange tank and white shorts, grabbed her rucksack and fled into another bright, hot and lazy Roman afternoon feeling as if Fellini was right behind her and breathing down her neck.
Almost unconsciously, Janey headed away from her aunt’s villa in an unfamiliar direction, wanting to lose herself in some obscure but busy corner of town where Fellini couldn’t possibly be.
So she cut through the historical centre of Rome, heading across the River Tiber to a district called Trastevere.
Trastevere didn’t have a whole lot of obvious tourist destinations, but her guidebook indicated it was still one of the most happening areas of Rome. It was a picture-book old quarter of the city where real Romans still lived, packed with bars, cafés, hip shopping spots, and atmospheric public squares. It was also riddled with narrow cobbled streets, making it a great place to get lost in the crowd, which was exactly what Janey needed. To lose that horrible feeling of being watched by unseen eyes. She needed time to just think and chill .
By the time she crossed the Ponte Sisto into Trastevere, the breezy outfit she’d thrown on just over an hour before was plastered to her willowy frame but her usual positivity had returned. As she looked around, she saw hundreds of people of almost as many nationalities and Janey could feel herself relaxing a little. Fellini – whoever he was – couldn’t possibly be here in Rome actually tailing her around. He was probably some spotty twelve-year-old moron from Florida or somewhere.
Janey followed the swell of people ducking into and out of the medieval churches, marvelling at the ancient mosaics and astonishing domes, sculptures and icons that featured on almost every building. In between, she browsed the leather goods stores, specialty paper shops and museums that seemed to occupy every street corner. She kept herself hydrated with slices of fresh watermelon, and one sweet and icy grattachecca after another.
Trastevere was the perfect antidote to the poisonous situations she’d been experiencing with her aunt. The streets were crooked and crowded with ancient apartment buildings and villas that seemed to lean into one another. High above her head, the lines of colourful
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