What Happens Abroad (5 page)

Redbrick walls climbed up to the sky, but even from the ground, I could tell there wasn't a roof on the place. A half-buried cannon guarded the entrance, and I glanced nervously at Joelle. “You're sure this isn't illegal or anything?”

She laughed. “When has it ever been illegal to party?”

I shrugged, pointing to the cannon. “I don't know. It's not a historical site or anything?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Camie. Time to loosen up.” She linked her arm through mine, and together we marched toward the fort.

There wasn't a bouncer or anybody to take our money, but a steady stream of people was trickling through the wide-open gate, and I started to relax. If this place were illegal, it wouldn't be so crowded, right?

Sarah caught my expression. “Trust me,” she whispered, “you'll like this.”

The club didn't have a floor, just hard-packed dirt from years of dancing. A couple of generators buzzed noisily inside the entrance, and people had run cords and lights all over. It looked sort of like a Christmas tree lot without the trees. Little clear lights twinkled overhead, and I spotted a wide table set up under a blue tent. Brightly colored signs for brands of beer I didn't recognize were hanging all over the tent, and I pointed at it.

“The bar?”

“One of them. Let's get a drink!” Joelle led the way across the crowd, and when we got to the bar, she glanced at me and Sarah.

I shrugged. “Whatever you guys want, I guess.”

Sarah pointed to a small chalkboard in front of the bar tent. “There's a special on tequila tonight.”

Joelle glanced at me expectantly, and I swallowed. “I'll try it.” I'd never done tequila before; I'd barely had anything besides wine. But I was out in Florence, and I didn't want to be a stick-in-the-mud.

Joelle paid for the first round, and she tried to talk us through the lime-salt-lick thing. I tossed the shot back, the sharp liquid burning the back of my throat a little as it went down, and Sarah coughed once before she smiled.

The bar area was getting crowded, so we set our glasses down and stepped to one side. I felt a little fuzzy, but it wasn't a bad sensation. Staring around the fort, I asked, “How big is it?”

“Huge! We didn't see it all last night.” Joelle gestured ahead, and I realized the path forked around the corner of an unidentifiable building. “Left or right?”

“Which way did you guys go last night?”

“Right.”

I debated for a minute, but I was feeling bold. “Then let's go left!”

Joelle laughed. “Atta girl. I knew you had a sense of adventure!”

We wandered to the left, trying not to push our way through the partiers. The crowd had grown since we got to the fort, and when I glanced back over my shoulder, I could still see more people streaming in. How did they all even know about this place?

Low mud and brick walls divided the area into large compartments, and each one was different. We passed one area with a stage, a DJ, and a huge picture of Lenin hanging on the back wall. One of the guys dancing in front of the stage was wearing what looked like an army surplus coat, and he was dancing with a girl in heavy combat boots with a lot of piercings. Sarah laughingly dubbed it the revolutionary party, but we didn't stop to join in the dancing.

The next little area was packed with partiers dressed in bold prints. There wasn't a DJ, but a couple of guys were banging on a set of bongo drums while another musician strummed his guitar. I recognized the Bahamian flag hanging on one wall, and I raised an eyebrow at Joelle.

“No idea!” She yelled over the music. “But it looks fun!”

It did look fun, but there didn't seem to be any new people joining the party. We moved on to a third compartment, and this one reminded me more of a cheap bar in the States than anything else. There weren't any decorations, but I saw a guy in a cowboy hat grinding with a girl in a miniskirt. The music on the speakers was loud and hard to identify, and I shook my head at them. Sarah grabbed my arm and tugged me on.

It was like each little compartment was its own world; every time we passed another wall, the music of the space we'd just left faded away completely. Joelle brightened when we reached a compartment blasting sinuous, wild music that made me think of the desert, and she cocked her head toward the dance floor.

Sarah and I followed her into the throng of people. I couldn't tell if this room had a theme or not, but soon I got swept up in the music, dancing with Joelle and Sarah and tossing my head back as I started to groove.

I hadn't been lying to Joelle earlier; I'd never been much of a dancer, but something about the hot night and the tequila made me want to move, and I bounced around until I was dripping in sweat. No one tried to dance with me, but I didn't mind. I hadn't really wanted to come to the fort to pick up a guy. I just wanted to have a little fun and forget everything about Hunter and Jim for a while.

Sarah tapped my arm and mimed a drinking gesture, and I nodded. I really wanted some water, but I'd settle for another shot. We grabbed Joelle and headed to another makeshift bar set up outside the opening of the compartment we'd been dancing in. The bartender handed us three beers without asking what we wanted, and I shrugged and paid him and we headed back to the dancing.

My head was starting to pulse, and my limbs felt loose and graceful. I shimmied to the music, barely aware of the guy who slipped up behind Sarah, and started swaying with her. When I looked up again, Joelle was shaking her hips and grinning at a tall girl in tight shorts, and Sarah was practically making out with the guy she'd been dancing with. I tried to keep moving alone, but my stomach turned a little sour, and I started to feel sorry for myself.

Suddenly, the music was too loud and the crowd was too close. I fanned myself, and then I pushed my way to the edge of the crowd, hoping it would be cooler over there. I leaned on the rough brick wall, making sure I could still see Sarah and Joelle, and I shut my eyes for a second. The world stopped spinning, but when I reopened them, I wasn't alone.

A short guy in a soccer jersey was leaning on the wall beside me. He grinned when I opened my eyes, and I smiled weakly back. He slid a little closer, taking my smile as an invitation, and I let him run his hand through my hair. In a second, his lips were pressed to mine, his tongue pushing wetly between my teeth, and I kissed him back, wondering what it would take for me to just loosen up and have some fun.

When the guy ran his hand along my waistband and tugged insistently at the top of my shorts, I pushed him away. He tried to kiss me again, but I slipped out of his grasp. I heard him curse behind me, but he didn't follow me, and I headed back out onto the dance floor. I'd suddenly stopped having fun, and I just wanted to find Joelle and Sarah and go home.

Home.

It was funny how fast I'd started to think of the apartment as
home.
True, I'd be staying there for the rest of the month, but wasn't home supposed to be what I'd left behind at college, or farther away still, back with my mom? Pushing through the sweating bodies, I suddenly realized that I wasn't sure where home was anymore for me. I bit my lip and looked around, hoping I could grab the girls fast and leave.

Joelle was still dancing where I'd left her, but I didn't see Sarah. I walked up to Joelle and tapped her on the shoulder, and when she saw me, she grabbed my hands, laughing.

“Why aren't you dancing?”

I shook my head. “I don't feel well. I think we should find Sarah and leave.”

Joelle pouted, but finally she nodded. She leaned over to whisper something to the girl she'd been dancing with, and I looked away. Where had Sarah gone?

I scanned the crowd, and finally Joelle touched my arm. “Over there!” She yelled over the music, pointing across the dance floor. Tucked in a corner, a couple was involved in a pretty hot and heavy make-out session. I caught a flash of curly red hair as they writhed around, and I nodded to Joelle.

“This is going to be interesting.”

She chuckled. “At least she's having fun!”

We dodged around the dancers until we reached Sarah and her dude. I hesitated, but Joelle dove right in, hugging Sarah from behind. Confused, she looked around, and Joelle took advantage of her confusion to give her a gentle tug backward. The guy she'd been kissing was tall, dark, and utterly Italian, down to his perfect shoes and collared shirt open to show a few curls of chest hair. He looked dazed, probably wondering why his lips were suddenly exposed to the night air.

“Come on, Sarah,” Joelle coaxed, pulling her away from the hottie. “Camie wants to go home.”

Sarah exhaled sharply, but then she leaned up and kissed the guy again, this time on the cheek. “Call me?”

He grinned, his smile slipping sexily across his face. “Ciao, baby.”

It wasn't really an answer, but Joelle and I didn't let her stick around for more.

We were all walking a little unsteadily, but once we left the fort, my head felt clearer. I hadn't realized just how loud it had been inside until we were back on the quiet Florentine streets. Eventually, we made it back to the apartment, and Sarah collapsed into one of the dining room chairs. Joelle flopped down beside her, and I realized that I was the most sober one in the room.

That wasn't a comforting thought. “Um, do you guys want some coffee?” Joelle had picked up a canister of nasty instant coffee when she made dinner the other night, and even though we all hated it, that hadn't stopped any of us from drinking it.

Sarah put her head down on the table with a thump, but Joelle nodded. “Not a bad idea. Although bed sounds good, too.”

“You should try to sober up before you fall asleep. Won't that help with the hangover?”

Joelle snorted. “I'm never hung over! Well, except for that one time.”

“Right. I'll make the coffee.”

I stepped into the hallway just as four guys crashed through our door.

I stared in amazement as four very drunk guys around our age picked themselves up off the floor and staring at me in confusion. I looked around frantically, wondering if there was anything in reach I could use as a weapon.

One of the guys, a short one with curly brown hair, met my eyes. “Oh, bugger it, boys. This isn't the hostel.”

The other guys got to their feet, groaning. “Whatcha mean?”

A taller guy with broad shoulders leaned against the door frame for a moment, his eyes skimming the apartment. “I think he's right,” he slurred.

“Of course I'm right, wanker! Do you remember any girls that pretty?” Curly jerked his thumb in my direction, and my mouth dropped open.

The big guy yawned loudly. “Not really, no. Most of them are caked in dirt from all that backpacking.” He snorted. “Probably stopped shaving once they got over here, too.”

One of the other guys laughed, and Curly rolled his eyes.

“Cot cases, the lot of you,” he muttered. “Why am I the only one who doesn't go daft when we drink?”

Before I could figure out what they were talking about, Joelle stepped forward. “I think you guys better leave.”

I was impressed; if I hadn't known better, I wouldn't have thought she was drunk. She seemed very in control, and evidently her level gaze and threatening tone had the same effect on the guys. They scrambled over each other to get into the hallway, apologizing over their shoulders as they went. The guy with curly hair held up his hands.

“Sorry about that,” he offered, smiling right at me before he turned and followed his companions into the night.

There was a pause, and then all three of us rushed to slam the door. Joelle locked it, and Sarah started to laugh. “That was like something out of a movie.”

I checked the lock. “What the hell was that about?”

Joelle shrugged, looking thoughtful. “The door was unlocked,” she said, half accusingly.

Shit
. I held up my hands defensively. “I'm sorry!”

Sarah stepped between us. “It doesn't matter. Nothing happened, and,” she giggled again, “you have to admit, it was sort of funny.”

She was right; listening to the guys in their thick, slurred accents as they continued to stumble down the hall was something right out of
Monty Python
. I stifled a giggle. “I'll make the coffee.”

Joelle shook her head. “I think I just want to pass out.”

Sarah nodded. “Me, too. And dream about handsome men falling from the sky!”

I snorted. “This from the girl who was lip-locked with Don Juan all evening.”

She flushed. “I don't think that's his name.”

Joelle and I exchanged a look. “You don't know his name?”

She looked away. “I'm going to bed.” Hurrying down the hall, she slammed the door to the bathroom just as Joelle and I burst out laughing.

“Well,” Joelle finally managed to say, “I guess
her
broken heart has healed.”

I thought back to the guy I'd let kiss me at the fort, and I shook my head. “Don't bet on it.”

~

I slept in the next morning, and when I wandered into the kitchen, I was surprised to see Joelle standing near the window. Her arm was stretched out into the open air, and I realized she was smoking.

“I didn't know you smoked.”

She shrugged. “I don't really, but Charlie smokes now, and I sort of got in the habit of bumming cigarettes from him in Berlin.” She stubbed it out. “It's not something I really want to deal with, but I figure as long as I'm in Europe, there's no harm done. Everybody around here smokes.”

I put the kettle on the stove and spooned some instant coffee into a mug. “Did you like Germany?”

Joelle nodded. “It was pretty wild.” She hesitated. “Vi's from Germany.”