My ‘suite’ was a small, dark, windowless room with a bed shoved in the corner. Waiting was the worst, but doing so in what could only be described as a cell really did make me feel like a dead woman walking. I might as well have been placed under the staircase.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, tears welling in my eyes, thinking how I didn’t even get to press send on my email to Claire. Mum and Dad would be telling her right now what an amazing time I was having with all my newfound friends, when in truth I was hiding, too ashamed to face the others knowing Jodie would have told all. Once again I didn’t recall social isolation being featured in the glossy tourist booklet; come to Italy and be an outcast! If I had wanted to feel that way, I could have easily stayed home.

I had come all this way and spent a chunk of my savings only to be here, hiding, feeling sorry for myself? I stood up and began pacing my block-shaped room, angered by Jodie’s snooping, but also embarrassed at being caught out. Maybe Jodie did have the right to hate me from the start—maybe she was a good judge after all. Had I acted aloof, as if I thought I was better than them? No, I was just different, that’s all; if I wasn’t on this trip I certainly wouldn’t be friends with them. We were only going to be together for a short time; when I first stepped into the meet-and-greet, I’d doubted I’d be forming any lifelong friendships.

I stopped my self-righteous thoughts.

Oh, wow, Sammi! Will you listen to yourself?

Within two seconds of meeting the members of the group I had made a judgement that they weren’t my type, which, in no uncertain terms, made me Miss Judgey McJudgeface of Judgement Town. I had even gone as far as to book another room to escape the backlash; how was that going to look? I had visions of them laughing from their bunk beds.

‘See, too good to even share a room.’

I buried my head in my hands.

‘Oh, God, I am a snobby bitch,’ I groaned, lifting my head and running my hands back through my hair. I hadn’t given anyone a chance.

Except for one.

One very different person, one who from the very first moment had stood out, one who I’d been trying to work out ever since. Never once had I thought myself too good for him; if anything, the general consensus was he was far too good for me. I wished he was here with me now, telling me local myths, flashing me those adorable dimples, looking confused when he didn’t quite understand my meaning, touching me, kissing me …

I snapped out of my daydream.

‘No, no, I wasn’t a bitch,’ I mumbled to myself, throwing myself back onto my bed. I swallowed some painkillers to alleviate my pounding head, and soon my eyes became heavy and my body sank into the mattress. Drifting off in my tiny little box room, I repeated sleepily to myself, ‘I am not a bitch.’

Thunder, there was thunder jolting me awake.

No, wait a minute.

Thump-thump-thump. ‘Sammi, open up!’

Oh, shit, they’ve found me. At my door with flaming torches and pitchforks, no doubt.

I scrambled out of my bed, ripping the sheets from me, struggling to navigate the unfamiliar surroundings in my darkened room. What time was it? How long had I been asleep? Had I even locked the door?

The handle twisted, the door creaked and light leaked into the room, threatening to expose me. Holding up my hand to shield my eyes, I squinted at the darkened figure in my doorway. The light was impossibly bright; spots danced in my vision until the fluorescent beam flickered above me.

‘Hot damn, look at you.’ Johnny’s Californian drawl was deep and filled the entire space. He didn’t seem angry; his words were an observation, and sounded shocked if anything. I knew I wasn’t exactly the most attractive person upon waking, but I really didn’t need to be reminded about my frizz-ball hair and squinty eyes at a time like this.

‘Just getting some rest,’ I croaked, smoothing down my hair, wondering if the red tinge of my skin was worse now. I had slathered on the sunscreen, I had moisturised, kept hydrated. I felt good, the painkillers had worked a treat, so why was Johnny looking at me like that? Did I have drool on my chin?

‘What’s that on your face?’

I touched my chin, wiping at the skin.

Nope, no drool.

‘What?’

Johnny grimaced, walking closer to me, reaching up to capture my chin and turn my face to the light. ‘You have giant welts on your cheek.’

‘What?’ My hand flew up, searching, until I felt an unmistakable lump on my face, then another.

‘What the …’

Johnny broke into a smile. ‘Haven’t you heard the old saying: “Don’t let the bed bugs bite”?’

‘Oh, shut up!’ I said, pushing past him, skimming along the halls in search of a bathroom on the unfamiliar second floor. Instead, I found a murky hall mirror above a table featuring a dusty faux floral arrangement. I pressed my face up close to the mirror, whimpering at the sight.

‘I look like the Elephant Woman!’

‘Oh, I think that’s a bit harsh,’ Johnny said.

I cupped my cheeks, staring at my reflection, which had instantly become itchy from the heat of my palms. All I could do was shake my head as the tears welled in my eyes. I turned to Johnny. ‘I have bloody bed bugs!’ I shouted.

‘It would appear so,’ Johnny said; at least he was trying his best not to laugh. But I knew no matter how much time would pass I would never find it funny. Instead, I simply burst into tears, the salty streaks probably fuelling the swelling of my bites.

‘Oh, hey, hey, come on, you don’t look that bad.’ Johnny reached out, rubbing my shoulder. ‘Why are you in that room anyway—are you in quarantine or something?’

I sniffed, shaking my head. ‘You mean you don’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘What, Jodie hasn’t come running to you reciting my email word for word?’

Johnny’s brows pinched. ‘What email?’

I wiped my eyes, my sobs stilled by his apparent and genuine confusion.

‘Did Jodie come back to the group?’

‘Yeah, she said you were asleep, that she didn’t want to wake you.’

Now I was the one who was confused, my hand slowly falling from my face. Had I dreamt it? Had there even been an email? No, it was definitely real; what was Jodie playing at?

‘W-what are you doing here?’

Johnny sighed. ‘So many questions! Maria is organising a dinner tonight, a kind of farewell to Rome, I guess. It’s all provided in our package so you better get ready,’ he said, backing away down the hall.

‘What? Dinner tonight? I can’t go out like this.’

‘Come on, Sammi, anyone would think you’re trying to avoid us.’ He laughed, but his words hit a nerve inside me.

Too good for us.

I didn’t think that, and even if, for reasons unknown to me, she hadn’t told them about the email, the last thing I needed was for them to jump to that conclusion on their own. The first three days had been a disaster, the fault all my own, but I still had seven days with these people. If I was going to get the most out of this trip then I had better slap myself and get my shit together.

‘Where’s dinner?’ I asked unenthusiastically.

Johnny grinned. ‘Atta girl! It’s at a restaurant called That’s Amore. We meet down at reception at six,’ he said, setting off down the hall. As he walked away, he said over his shoulder, ‘Oh and, ah, just in case you’re thinking about changing your mind, Marcello will be there.’

I slowly turned back to the mirror, a look of complete and utter dread spread across my lumpy face.

‘Oh, fuck!’