“Well, at least at first,” admitted Rosa. “To be honest, he didn’t seem like the type I wanted to teach.”

“Why not? Was there something wrong with him?”

“No, nothing, not really,” he said. “It’s just that he’s a rugby and football player, and well—”

“Ah, he’s a jock,” said Patricia. She opened her legs into a V and reached out to grasp the tips of her running shoes. “You don’t like athletes,” she added, pulling herself forward.

“It’s not that I have anything against them,” said Rosa, looking away once more to the track. “It’s just that my experiences with them in the classroom haven’t always been so good.Too often their heads are on the playing fields instead of in the classroom. And many of them seem to do the least amount possible to get by. It’s very disappointing sometimes. I just don’t like wasting my time if they’re not going to do their part, that’s all. Anyway, I only enjoy teaching students who show some motivation. Otherwise it’s not worth it to me.”

“So you sent this student packing, I assume,” said Patricia.

“Well, I had planned to,” he answered, “but then I told him that I’d think about it.”

Patricia got to her feet, came to his side, and reached out to the tree. Placing her hands against it, she leaned forward to stretch her calves. As she did so, Rosa found himself hard-pressed to resist the natural instinct to let his gaze follow the sleek lines of her slender arms and legs, already pleasantly tanned from her daily visits to the track.

“So, why the second thoughts?” she asked with an air of nonchalance, leaning closer to the tree, deepening the stretch, and further accentuating the contours of her leg muscles.

“His persistence, I guess,” Rosa answered with a sigh, doing his best to look away. “He’s very anxious to go to Italy.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Rosa gave a little laugh and rolled his eyes.

“He’s in love,” he told her.

Patricia smiled as she looked down at him. “Why do you laugh like that?” she said. “What better reason could someone have for going to Italy?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Rosa admitted. “But I’m sure there must be at least one.”

Patricia eased out of the stretch and stood upright. Placing one hand against the tree for balance, she reached down for her ankle and pulled her foot to her backside to stretch her thigh.

“You know, you should go home to Italy yourself someday,” she said. “I often wonder why you have never gone back.”

“It’s a long story,” he said. “And not a very interesting one. But in any case, why would I go back there when everything I need is right here in America?”

“Maybe you need more than you realize.”