Eleni
“f**k you too!” I yell at a taxi driver leaning on his horn in the center of Athens, yanking my handlebars so I just barely avoid slamming into his hood.
This is what I get for taking a class that gets out at two. But this is the only time Professor Vasiliatos offers his thesis review. Tasia’s going to be furious.
Still, by the time I make it far enough out of the city center to smell the ocean breeze, a little of my irritation has burned off. The start of a new semester is always like this. I always decide I never should’ve taken these classes or this major or decided for the umpteenth time that the feeling of freedom on a bike is more important to me than the ease of a driver. And as soon as I get used to the routine, it’ll feel as easy as breathing.
Just like wheeling my bike
