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I guess I’m the sensitive one of the group. We’re walking down another wide city street, and I want to abandon them. They go from bar to bar, then house party to house party, and I’m just too torn up, or maybe my body is exhausted, or I’m not eating right. I’ve drunk so much that Jake has taken it upon himself to lead me by the hand as the five or six others in the group charge ahead of us. So I can’t break away—not yet. In a moment I will. In many ways, my life is a dream right now, as I live down here in Argentina, where supposedly I’m studying abroad in Buenos Aires, learning Spanish and South American culture. But really I’m learning what it’s like to live electrically from night to night, with these temporary friends, as a 20-year-old girl who should have so much more confidence and energy than she really does. This city is enchanting, full of elegant, stone buildings interspersed with a modern lifestyle, where there’s always at least one man singing joyfully on the streets, or a flower salesman, or a tricky juggler entertaining the cars at stoplights. We turn onto Hipolito Avenue, my favorite street in the city, so wide and weird how it splits away from the plaza in a diagonal direction, and the lights are plentiful in this clean part of the city. This is where I gently break my hand off from his. Immediately he asks where I’m going. I tell him I’m worn out and I’m going back to the Casa Bolivar, the dorm for international students. “Oh, come on! Just let your hair down and have a shot with me,” he says. I think this is the first time he’s smiled at me, and my stomach flutters—not that I have a crush on him. I barely know him. He’s not even a student here. I only see him on weekends, when this party crowd drags me out. He’s a much older guy, almost 30, teaching advanced English courses for semi-rich people. He fell in with the rest of the Americans here. I wish I knew him well enough to crush on him, but I’ll never be any closer to him, because he’s a handsome man who seems to know everyone. Of course, I change my mind and follow him. We Ataşehir Escort meet up with the others, the five other Americans and handful of Europeans whom I’ve almost learned all the names of. We’re in the courtyard at the back of our favorite bar, in the outskirts of the city. We’re sitting at big wooden tables, where hats and cowboy gear decorate the walls. Jake is standing with a group of Europeans, speaking Spanish so well that I’d never understand him. I probably won’t see him for the rest of the night, and I’m sure he’s not coming to the table with those shots he mentioned. Melisha is the only one who seems to tune into my mood. She can sense that I’m sipping down this red wine at an unusual pace. She has dark, olive skin and a mane of black curly hair that makes me feel bitter with jealousy, because I’m just a plain-faced girl with flat dirty blonde hair. I’ll never be a girl like her. She leans close to me on the table and keeps saying random thoughts to me in an effort to snap me out of my mood. “You and I should make a video about living down here.” She looks at me with that calm demeanor that she carries into any room, no matter who’s in it. “Or we could write something together. I bet you’re an excellent writer.” I think that’s what she said. The alcohol is starting to get to me, and I need to lie down somewhere quiet. “I’m too paranoid and useless to write anything about all these nights out,” I say, in quite a harsh tone. She’s confused, probably because what I said made little sense, and I don’t care because I’m walking away, out to the lobby, then to the streets, and Casa Bolivar is only two or three blocks away, if I remember correctly. I only have to keep myself from crying about nothing for two or three more blocks. I don’t want to be crying, but it’s my body’s decision, not mine. I hear Melisha calling my name. She says, “Let’s go get some food first.” I pretend I can’t hear her and step into the lobby, feeling comfort from the familiar checkerboard floor and marble steps. In less than Ataşehir Escort Bayan a minute I hit the first floor, even though my room’s on the third floor, and I’m in the bathroom to vomit into a weirdly shaped toilet. It has a plastic lid that I’m surely putting dents into with my fingernails. I’m crying too. Melisha follows me in and mumbles kind words to me while rubbing my back. She sends a text message to someone so they know where we’ve disappeared to. After a while, the girl who received the message appears by the door, then Jake, then two or three more whose names I’ve forgotten. I’m sitting on the floor, leaning on the cabinet, and Melisha is down here with me while everyone else is standing. They really do want to support me in some way. They know what it’s like to be separated from home for four months, with a real life somewhere off in the distance, and this temporary life—this bubble of a life pressing down on the now. “I’m okay,” I say, once everyone gets to asking me how I feel. “I just drank too much. And I need to shower now.” I’m standing up. “You’re gonna shower down here?” Melisha asks. “Sure. Why not?” I take a look around and realize this is a really nice bathroom. It’s huge, with three sinks, a mirror that spans an entire wall, and some potted plants flavoring up the luxurious space. The walls and floor have beautiful gray stone tile. The shower area has two shower heads floating over a space large enough for four people to shower at once. It looks like it is intended for the students to share the space. There’s no shower curtain. A short wall separates some of the room, but mostly there’s a wide open view of it from the sinks. Everyone starts to trickle out of the room. Jake is the last one to walk out. But I don’t want him to walk out. I want him to stay and watch me shower. I want him lusting for me, wishing he could have me. And when I finish washing myself, I would consider kissing him and wishing him goodnight. “Wow,” I say. “I’m glad you never brought me that shot.” Escort Ataşehir He looks at me, still backing away to the door. “Well, freshen up. Get your mind cleared.” “Jake.” I’m delighted to see him stop again. “Bring me some clothes from my bedroom, please?” He smiles. “No problem. I’ll leave them by the door.” “No. Bring them in here. I don’t want someone out there taking my clothes!” “But…you’ll be in the shower.” “You can put the clothes on the counter without looking.” I’m looking at him too seriously. I’m supposed to flirt here, but all I can manage is, “Put them there. You can do that, right?” “Yeah, that’s fine.” He’s out the door. From his attitude, I’m not sure he’s coming back. I feel my heart fluttering for him, my throat clenching up at the thought of him walking in, trying to be respectful, and me walking out and boldly grabbing at his crotch. But am I brave enough to do that? Maybe I’ll walk out and wait for him to say something. Then he’ll say I’m drunk and ease me back in the shower and walk out. Too many other possibilities run through my head. I step under the stream of hot water, trying to keep my mind straight, as the room gets foggy with me. Finally the door opens with a soft rattle, and on a sharp whim I decide to do what I really want to do. I walk out into the open, with hair wet and suds dripping down my body. Jake didn’t come in; it was Melisha. She stumbles back one step, seeing me walk out so plainly. “Hey,” she says. She puts the clothes on the counter and looks at me for a moment. “Everything okay?” Jake must have sent her in with the clothes, to be as polite as possible. Now I’m here with Melisha, desperate for someone’s eyes to be locked on me, maybe more, and I’m stepping toward her to discover how desperate I am for her. I’ve never been with a girl before, but I’m a young college girl and tonight I need to do some living. She’s so beautiful. She’s always friendly to me. Maybe she’ll let me be more. I step closer and she doesn’t move away, even when my face is inches from hers. “Everything’s fine.” I don’t hesitate again. I kiss her, and I’m enthralled to feel her pressing lips and chin back into me. In an instant, she’s dropped her concerns or barriers and decided to lose herself in the moment with me. We might not have much time to get this over with, as the others will start to wonder what’s going on in here.
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