6

The students left the waterlogged hotel in groups, trying to get in a little sightseeing before they were to assemble at the Da Vinci Museum with Mr. Harrington and Mr. Dell. Flash Thompson was one of the first to hit the streets, anxious to make a new post for his social media followers.

“What’s up, Flash Mob, how you guys doin’？” Flash gloated into his cell phone as he recorded the video. “I’m here in Saint Marco Polo Sq—”

Elsewhere, MJ had been walking along the street, when she noticed a flock of pigeons flying around. She stopped walking and posed as another student took her picture. A pigeon landed on MJ’s shoulder. Then one landed on her arm. MJ thought this was absolutely hysterical.

Meanwhile, Mr. Harrington had seized the moment to take a selfie of himself along a canal. But he wasn’t using a cell phone. He had brought an expensive camera with him, and he carefully placed it down on a railing and set the timer. Moving backward, Mr. Harrington positioned himself and smiled. The camera clicked, and he ran over to the railing to grab the camera. In the process, he nearly dropped it in the water! Catching the camera, he looked in the viewfinder to check out the picture he had just taken.

And then dropped the camera for real.

Right into the canal.

Mr. Harrington was having a “wet socks” day, too.

Peter was walking along the street, and saw Ned and Betty taking a gondola ride. He was glad for his friend—Ned deserved to be happy. But Peter couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, too. His own plans with MJ hadn’t been going so well. And here was Ned, who, with no plan whatsoever, suddenly had a girlfriend.

Peter sighed and kept walking. He passed by a group of students who were having their picture taken (saying “Pizza!” instead of “Cheese!”) as he embarked on Step Three of his plan. He had been searching the shops since leaving the hotel, trying to findjust the right place.

At last, he found a shop on the corner that specialized in handmade glass objects.

It was exactly what Peter was looking for.

He pushed open the door to the shop, a little bell tinkling to signal the shop owner that he had customers. The proprietor looked up, and saw Peter enter.

“Buon giorno,” Peter said. He remembered Mr. Dell’s words— When in Rome...

The proprietor looked at Peter and smiled. “Buon giorno,” he acknowledged, which immediately put Peter at ease. Well, almost at ease.

“Hi, uh...” Peter continued, proceeding in English. “I’m looking for a, uh...”

It took Peter a few seconds to figure out how to describe exactly what he was looking for. But the shop owner followed along perfectly, and indicated that he had just the thing. Walking over to a display, he lifted an object on a chain and handed it to Peter.

“Fiore nero,” the shop owner said.

Fiore nero meant “black flower.”

A black dahlia.

“It’s perfect,” Peter decided, admiring the delicate glass flower in his hands.

He paid the shop owner, who put the necklace in a golden bag.

“Boh.”

Peter had just left the glass blower’s shop, when MJ appeared out of nowhere. She’d taken him completely by surprise! Clutching the golden bag to his chest, he said the first thing that came to mind.

Which was, “What?”

“Boh,” MJ repeated as they walked down the street together. “It’s the most perfect word in the world. Italians created it and I just discovered it.”

“What does it mean?” Peter asked.

“That’s the thing,” MJ explained. “It can mean a million things. It can mean ‘I don’t know.’‘Get out of my face.’‘I don’t know AND get out of my face.’ It’s the best thing Italy ever created. Except for, maybe, espresso.”

Peter grinned. “Oh, so you’ve been drinking espresso.”

MJ only grunted in response.

Before he could say anything to MJ, a street vendor approached them, clutching a handful offlowers. “Signorina?” greeted the street vendor, pressuring them to buy his wares. “Signorina, hey?”

MJ stared at the street vendor, who pushed a flower at her. “American,” he identified her. “A rose for you.”

Without missing a beat, MJ replied, “Boh.”

The street vendor grumbled, and walked away without making a sale.

“Whoa,” Peter marveled, impressed.

“‘Boh’ is my new super-power,” MJ said confidently. “It’s like the anti-aloha. I was born to say this word. So, what’s in the bag?”

Peter glanced down at the bag in his hand, and shrugged. He had hoped that the street vendor would have distracted MJ from what he was carrying, but no such luck. But thanks to MJ, he had the perfect response ready to go.

“Oh, uh...Boh,” he told her.

MJ looked at him and grinned. “Nice,” she chuckled. He learned quickly. She liked that about him.

They continued walking along the street next to the canal. Glancing down, Peter noticed little drainage grates; every once in a while, water would burble up from them. He figured it was just a quirk of the intricate canal-and-drainage system in Venice.

But as they walked along the water’s edge, MJ noticed that something seemed to be swimming beneath the water, away from the street.

“Whoa, cool,” MJ commented.

But something told Peter that it wasn’t remotely cool.