Harry Turtledove - The Gladiator

"No, I don't think you would," the boy said. "Congratulations for winning, though. I'm glad you did."

"Thanks." Annarita was glad she had, too. A year with Maria running things wouldn't have been much fun.

Gianfranco was waiting outside when the meeting broke up. He also congratulated Annarita, adding, "I knew you had it in the bag when the Dragon Lady came out breathing fire." That made Annarita laugh. He finished, "Want to celebrate with a soda in the Galleria?"

"Sure. Why not?" Annarita said.

Two or three more people said they were glad she'd won as she was walking out of Hoxha Polytechnic. Just what she'd done started to sink in then. Any university that saw President of the Young Socialists' League on an application would be much more likely to say yes. That wasn't why she'd run, but it wasn't bad.

When they got to the Galleria del Popolo, she didn't just have a soda. She had a soda, with a big scoop of ice cream plopped in. It was wonderful. Gianfranco had one, too. They sat at a sidewalk table watching people go by. Two of the people were Russians, in baggy, square-cut suits very different from what Italian men wore. They were arguing at the top of their lungs. Except for a couple of swear words, she hardly understood anything they said. The summer holiday had left her Russian rusty. She supposed it would get better again.

She eyed Gianfranco. His people-watching wasn't all pretty girl-watching. She appreciated that.

He pointed across the street. "Look! That shopfront that's been empty forever is finally going to get somebody new in it."

"You're right." She squinted, trying to make out what was below the big letters that spelled out OPENING SOON! She didn't have much luck. "Can you read it?"

Gianfranco squinted, too. Then he shook his head. "No. Too small. Shall we go over and look?"

"In a bit," Annarita said. "Not yet."

After they finished their sundaes and talked for a while, they did cross the pedestrian-filled street. The sign read, RARE AND UNUSUAL BOOKS TO INTEREST EVERY TASTE. A SHOP EOR THE PERSON WHO THINKS.

Annarita stared at Gianfranco. He was staring at her, too. "You don't suppose-?" he said.

"I don't know," she said. "We'll just have to find out, won't we?"