by Kitty Parker
"That's…interesting," he commented.
I sighed. "The worst part is what he did when I was on the date. You see, after Andreas took me out to dinner, we went to this jazz club. By some insane coincidence or maybe some sort of divine manipulation, Kurt and Adam were there as well. Kurt got completely plastered, Hans. I felt like such a bitch. It was bugging me for the rest of the night, and when Andreas finally dropped me off at the hotel and kissed me goodnight, -"
"You let him kiss you?" Hans interrupted, going into overprotective brother mode.
"- all I could think about was Kurt and the night that we…well, yeah."
"So you realized that you like Kurt because the Italian guy sucks at kissing?"
I picked a pea off of my plate and threw it across the table at him.
He chuckled as it bounced off of his temple. "I'm just screwing with you, Sis. Well, this is quite a development. You've realized that you have a thing for a guy you've claimed to despise since you were seven. Hell has officially frozen over and pigs are now migrating to Florida along with the geese."
"And the old people," I added.
"Yeah, but they don't fly," he explained. "They just drive Volvos and Oldsmobiles."
"Got it," I chuckled.
"Well, sister dearest, you have my blessing," he declared. "In the prophetic words of that most brilliant of philosophers, Ozzy Osbourne, 'maybe it's not too late to learn how to love and forget how to hate.'"
I rolled my eyes. "My darling brother, I do believe that you're going off the rails on a crazy train."
* * *
Absentmindedly, I kicked a pebble along the ground as I walked. I didn't even know where I was anymore, really. After Hans had taken his leave, promising me that he'd be sitting front row center at the concert the next night, I'd grabbed my camera and headed off into the wild mixture of chaos and beauty that was Rome. I needed some alone-time for soul-searching.
First off, I'd come to terms with the fact that I liked Kurt. It was true enough that it was a rather world-altering realization, but I had accepted it for what it was. Now, though, as I paused to snap a picture of a pigeon perched atop a statue of some ancient deity, I began to wonder if that was really all there was to it. It felt so much more complicated than that.
If there was one thing in the world that I hated, it was being confused. I liked to know and understand everything that was going on around me, and when something like the sudden realization that I had a thing for my erstwhile nemesis came along to baffle me, it inevitably threw my whole sense of being out of synch.
The more I mulled things over, the more clearly I began to grasp the nature of my feelings. I wasn't sure exactly what it was that tipped me off. Perhaps it was the little butterflies that had apparently decided to permanently move into my stomach and flap about incessantly whenever Kurt was around. Perhaps it was the horrible wrenching feeling that grasped my heart whenever I saw him upset and knew that I had been the cause of his misery. Perhaps it was the thoughts of him that refused to vacate my mind. I didn't really know. What I did know, though, was that I had started to fall for him, fast and hard.
Did he still want me, though, after all that had happened over the course of the trip (not to mention throughout the entirety of our childhood)? I had treated him pretty horribly. I was lucky that he still talked to me at all. I could only pray that his feelings for me hadn't changed. It would simply be too bitterly ironic if they had.
Then, of course, there was the problem of what do to next. I certainly didn't have the courage to simply amble over to Kurt, say, "hey, I like you, too," and give him a humungous smooch. As much as I would have loved to do something like that right away and take care of the ridiculous amount of unresolved sexual tension between the two of us, I knew that I couldn't pull it off.
In the end, I decided to carefully observe Kurt for a while to get my bearings on the situation. As long as he didn't catch me watching him and think that I had turned into some sort of creepy stalker, it seemed like a good plan.
There was one more issue that I would have to deal with, though: Andreas was coming to the concert. I didn't think I could bear to see the look on Kurt's face if he saw the two of us together. I certainly couldn't let Andreas kiss me, which would probably confuse him, since I had after our date. I simply refused to put Kurt through that kind of torture. He'd had quite enough already.
I decided to break things off as gently as possible. After all, Andreas was a decent guy, and I had no desire to hurt his feelings. Then again, it wasn't as though he was ever going to see me again. Still, best not to be a bitch unnecessarily. I'd already done enough of that, after all, and I regretted it with every fiber of my being.
* * *
"You really like him, don't you?"
I snapped my head around to face my best friend. "What?"
Eden smiled warmly. "Come on, sweetie, I know that look on your face. You have a crush on Kurt. No, scratch that. You have a major crush on Kurt."
My blush told her all that she needed to know.
"I was wondering why you were acting so funny for the past couple of days," she chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. I had been watching Kurt and Adam chatting idly outside of the Pantheon as we waited for the rest of our choir to emerge from within. Eden had apparently snuck up behind me (well, perhaps not snuck, as I hadn't really been paying attention) and had noticed the direction of my gaze. She knew me well enough to put two and two together.
"So, when did this happen?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I only really figured it out on Tuesday. The actual change was more gradual, I think."
She nodded. "Got it. So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," I sighed. "That's the problem."
I watched as Kurt smiled at something Adam had said. My heart fluttered a bit. He had dimples! I'd never even noticed that before. I had been too busy hating him. I observed other things as well, little things that were almost imperceptible, like how he would oh so subtly shift from side to side when he listened to someone else speaking, how his hazel eyes would light up whenever he laughed...
I began to drift off in the general direction of Cloud Nine, but my little dream bubble was rather rudely popped.
"Hey, lover girl! We're going, come on." Eden dragged me along to catch up with the rest of the group. Everyone had begun heading off down a side street while I'd been busy fantasizing about Kurt's dimples.
Jane hung back to walk with the two of us. "Dude, what's up with Lotte?" she asked Eden upon noticing my slightly dazed state. A suspicious look crossed her face as she regarded me. "Are you on something?"
Eden giggled. "Our darling Lotte's had a particularly heavy dose of the love drug."
"Alright, girl!" Jane exclaimed, nudging me in the ribs. "Who's the lucky guy?"
There was a rather pregnant pause.
"No way!" Jane finally whispered excitedly. "Are you telling me that you've finally come around and admitted that you like Kurt?"
I smacked my forehead with my palm.
"Aha!" she crowed in response. "I knew this was going to happen! The two of you are going to make the most gorgeous children!"
I gave her a look. "Isn't that jumping ahead a bit?"
She threw her hands up. "Who cares?"
"There are other things I've got to worry about first," I muttered.
Eden cocked her head to the side as we went around a corner. "Like what?"
"Like how to make things right between Kurt and I without letting on that I saw him getting drunk the other night," I elaborated.
"Tough one," Jane commented. "Screw that. Just go grab him, yank him into a dark alley, and jump his bones right there."
I shook my head in amusement. "You really do have a one-track mind, don't you?"
She shrugged. "Sex makes the world go 'round."
Rolling my eyes good-naturedly, I turned to face my other companion. "You have any real advice for me, Ede?"
She shook her
head. "Sorry, sweetie. I honestly have no idea what you should say to him. However," she went on, placing a reassuring hand on my back. "In the Book of Acts, the Apostles got into some tough situations as well, but the Holy Spirit always found a way to put the right words in their mouths. Don't be scared. Just trust that whatever needs to be said will find its way past your lips. Go with your gut feeling."
I smiled warmly. At times, a well-placed Bibical reference could do wonders to cheer me up. "Alright. I'll give it a shot."
"Good luck hug!" Jane shouted suddenly, yanking Eden and I into her embrace and squeezing tightly.
"Thanks," I chuckled when I could breathe again.
She grinned and gave me a little push forward. "Now go get 'em, girl!"
As I began to walk faster, weaving around students to move up toward Kurt and Adam, my stomach starting doing some sort of bizarre acrobatics routine. I finally spotted the tall, toned figure that I had come to know and love. My heart began to pound as I jogged to catch up with him.
"Hey, Kurt!" I called, slightly out of breath.
He turned around to face me and my heart leapt up into my throat as he smiled. "Hey, Lotte. What's up?"
"Uh…"
Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit…
"Can I talk to you for a bit?
"Of course," he replied, pausing until I'd reached him. "What's on your mind?"
How could he be acting so nonchalant about this when I was practically being eaten alive by anxiety? "I, er…I just wanted to…apologize…for the other night."
He tensed slightly. "What do you have to be sorry for?"
"Well…" I began. "What I did was sort of…thoughtless. I knew it would hurt you, but I did it anyway. I wasn't trying to hurt you, of course," I hastily clarified, even though he had showed no sign of indignation. "I just…didn't think."
He stayed silent for a long period of time. "I overreacted," he finally sighed. "I shouldn't have expected you to put your whole love life on hold just because we…well, yeah."
"No, you had every right to," I insisted.
"It's not like I have a claim on you," he pointed out.
Yes you do, I thought. I didn't tell him this, though. "It doesn't matter," I contended.
There was a pause in which I could hear nothing but the sound of our feet slapping against the cobblestones.
Kurt finally cleared his throat. "So, er…how did it go with…that guy?"
I blushed profusely, as I'd been hoping to avoid that topic. "Er…fine, I guess?" I ventured uncertainly. "Nothing particularly interesting or spectacular. It's not like I'm ever going to see him again, anyway."
Kurt visibly relaxed. "Not into the long-distance thing?"
"They don't work," I replied with a shrug, silently thanking God that Kurt was heading to Harvard for rowing. "Besides, it's not like I had any feelings for him."
"Really?" he asked, unable to keep a grin off of his face, though I could tell that he desperately wanted to.
I returned his smile. "Yes, really."
"Alright, then."
The ensuing silence was far less tense than the previous one had been.
I gave him an imploring look. "Are we cool, then?"
Gently, he reached out and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. "We're cool." He gave me a slight squeeze, sending a spark of electricity through my body and straight to my heart, feeding the flames of romance that had been ignited there.
Hand in hand, we walked along with the rest of the group, completely ignoring the curious looks being sent our way by those who only knew us as the bass and the soprano who bickered all the time. Eventually, the side-street we were on opened into a large plaza. The center had been lowered so that there were two levels with a set of stairs connecting them and leading directly to one of the most famous and beautiful attractions in Rome: the Trevi Fountain.
Mythical figures carved from white stone attempted to tame wild horses of the sea upon the rocks while two goddesses stood sentinel, framed by Corinthian columns. At the center of it all, glorified in his magnificent arch, was Neptune, Roman god of the sea. He stood, powerful and majestic, with a cloth billowing out behind him, surveying his domain with a keen eye. My breath caught in my throat at the sheer beauty of the scene before me.
"Let's go throw a coin in," Kurt whispered in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I noted that he was still holding my hand and I secretly basked in my own giddy pleasure.
"Sounds good to me," I agreed.
Grinning, he led me over to the steps in front of the fountain. There was quite a crowd, considering that we were in the middle of a prime tourist spot, but Kurt somehow managed to weave his way around the camera-wielding sightseers, dragging me along behind him. I spouted out a few hasty apologies as I went to those whose feet I had accidentally trod upon.
When we arrived at the rim of the fountain, Kurt pulled out his wallet and extracted a twenty-cent euro piece. I dug an identical coin out of my pocket.
He turned to face me. "So, how do we go about doing this?"
"You turn your back to the fountain," I explained, recalling what I'd heard from others. "And you throw the coin over your left shoulder with your right hand while making a wish."
"That specific, huh?" he chuckled.
I shrugged. "Hey, I don't make the rules."
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, he turned around to face away from the fountain. I mimicked his position.
"Alright," he began. "So on the count of three, we'll throw our coins in and make a wish, ok?"
I gave my consent with a nod, already knowing exactly what I would be wishing for.
"One…"
I tensed my hand around my coin, preparing to toss it.
"Two…"
I mentally ran over the exact phrasing of my wish.
"Three!"
I wish that Kurt Matthews were mine.
My coin sailed over my shoulder and landed with a plink in the fountain.
Chapter 19: La Vie en Rose
Paris: the city of love. In light of recent events, I couldn't help but be sucked into its magic. As soon as I saw my first accordion-wielding, sunglass-wearing street musician playing La Vie en Rose, I just wanted to grab Kurt and have the corniest, most deliciously clichéd kiss in the history of the universe. I resisted, though, as I didn't particularly want the poor boy to go into anaphylactic shock.
The concert in Rome had gone fairly well. I'd nailed my aria, and the look of glowing pride on my brother's face was enough to make tears of joy begin to trickle down my cheeks. Andreas had shown up as well, and I'd been faced with the unenviable task of letting him down easily. After the concert had ended, I'd located him and taken him aside for a brief chat. He'd been quite understanding, agreeing that it was pointless to maintain a transatlantic relationship when we'd known each other for less than a week. We'd exchanged contact information, though, if only for the sake of cordiality.
The following morning, I'd boarded a plane for Paris, and that was that.
"I swear, Lotte, if you don't hold still and I wind up poking you in the eye with this thing, it's not going to be my fault!"
"Sorry," I muttered, trying to sit still on top of a little stool in some huge French department store as Jane huffed indignantly.
Eden looked over her shoulder warily. "That saleslady's giving you a nasty look, Jane."
"Screw her," she replied, dipping the disposable mascara wand clutched in her right hand back into the tester tube of black gunk with a fancy French name.
"I don't get why this stuff is so expensive," I mused, glancing at the absurdly high price (twenty euros) printed on the sticker on the side of the product. "It's exactly the same as the mascara from home that I use except for the fact that it's called Le Eye-gunk Expenseeve or whatever. Not to mention the fact that exchange rate of dollars to euros is terrible, meaning it's even more expensive relatively, which isn't even accounting for inflation-"
"Lotte, if you don't stop fidge
ting and spouting out all this random economic mumbo jumbo, I'm going to give you a unibrow with this mascara."
That shut me up. The last thing I wanted to do was walk around Paris looking like Bert from Sesame Street.
Giving the three of us a suspicious glance, the aforementioned saleslady approached and posed what seemed to be a question in rapid French.
Speaking a bit slower, Eden gave her a reply. That seemed to assuage whatever concerns she had about the stupid Americans fiddling around with her precious cosmetics, and she sauntered away.
Eden's French abilities had really come in handy over the past three days, considering that no one in Paris seemed to enjoy speaking English with us. I really had no idea why, since we weren't exactly your stereotypical obnoxious tourists with Hawaiian shirts and huge cameras slung around our necks. Still, every time I'd ask a question, I'd receive an answer in French. My first day in the country had been a poignant example:
Me: Excusé moi, could you tell me where the restrooms are, sil vous plait?
Random Dude in Coffee Shop: Cornemuse puisque tu viendras avec moi aisselle, raicaille?
Me: Er…I non parlé Français? Sorry?
RDCS: Cochon tanguoter eau gazeuse.
Me: Er…right…
I'd then headed off for a door that looked promising. It had, of course, turned out to be a broom closet.
"There," Jane announced, screwing the cap back onto the tube of mascara. "Finished."
"Great, let's go." I hopped off of the stool and made to head for the exit.
Jane grabbed my arm, yanking me back. "Hold on there, Lottiekins. We're heading to the women's section to try on absurd amounts of clothes that we won't buy."
"But why?" I whined.
"This is therapeutic shopping," she stated matter-of-factly. "It's hardcore."
I rolled my eyes. "How is that therapeutic?"
Eden shrugged. "It helps us forget stuff that we don't want to think about."
