Seeking Her

6

THE NEXT EVENING I followed Kelsey to the train station. As we approached, I immediately raised my guard.

It was just after midnight. Gara de Nord loomed ahead of us, but as we got closer, I couldn’t help but pick out the dilapidated buildings that dotted the street. I was used to seeing a lot of ­people out and about, considering Kelsey frequented late-­night businesses, but these streets showed a different side of city life. A man lay curled up on his side next to a metal trash can. I saw Kelsey pause, and mentally urged her to keep going. He was likely harmless, but these streets were dotted with beggars, and I’d read enough of my guidebook to know they were likely to try and take advantage of Kelsey if she acknowledged them.

After a few seconds, she kept walking, her eyes fixed on the train station up ahead. A few ­people called out at her as she walked past, but she kept her eyes forward. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad at least that I didn’t have to worry about her behaving recklessly when she was sober.

Inside the station, the atmosphere was much less tense. It was still fairly busy, with a few shops and fast-­food restaurants still open for business.

I took a risk standing behind her in line, but I needed to know where she was going, and this was my best shot. She had a Eurail pass, as did I, which covered travel to most places in Europe. But if she was at the ticket counter that meant wherever we were going wasn’t covered.

I was fairly certain she wouldn’t recognize me from the night before. I didn’t think she’d ever really looked at me, but I kept my baseball cap pulled low over my eyes just in case. She stepped up to the ticket counter, her Eurail pass and passport in hand.

I tried to listen for a clue to where she was going, but the attendant’s voice was muffled by the glass, and with her back to me, I couldn’t understand what Kelsey was saying either. I fidgeted, tapping my passport against my palm, trying to decide the best way to handle this. I could always wait and see what platform she went to, and then come back and buy my ticket based on that. But I didn’t know how early she had arrived and didn’t want to risk missing the train. The attendant next to Kelsey finished with her customer and beckoned me forward.

I hesitated. Standing next to Kelsey was riskier than standing behind her. And what if she’d already said her destination and I couldn’t figure it out?

The attendant called out to me.

Panicked, I turned to the person behind me and said, “Go ahead. I need to, uh . . .” I held up my phone as an explanation.

I don’t think the person behind me spoke English, but when I gestured for him to pass me again, he did.

Kelsey handed over some cash to the attendant, and he handed her a ticket in exchange. After retrieving her change, she nodded and then walked away. Her attendant waved me forward, and I hesitated for just a moment, making sure Kelsey was out of hearing range.

“Same as my friend in front of me,” I said.

“Excuse me?” the man asked, his accent thick.

“I’m with the girl you just helped.”

“Ah,” the man nodded. I just hoped he didn’t look behind me to see that Kelsey was long gone because that would certainly make him suspicious. “As I told her, there are no more sleepers for this train, only regular seats.”

“That’s fine.”

“I also can’t get you beside her. The nearest seat is a few rows back.”

“That’s great,” I said a little too quickly. I hadn’t thought about what would have happened if he’d sat me right beside her. But for once, the universe seemed on my side.

“All the way to Belgrade, yes?”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” Where was Belgrade again? Serbia?

Just for once, it would be great if Kelsey would choose a country that I knew at least a little bit about.

I handed over a credit card in exchange for the tickets.

It looked like we’d be changing trains twice, both times in Bulgaria before heading into Serbia.

At least tonight would be a change of routine from our regular nighttime adventures.

MY BREAK FROM the clubs, however, was short-­lived. As a city, Belgrade wasn’t the most visually attractive place we’d been to so far. Most of the buildings were boxy and gray. But as it turned out, Belgrade was like the Eastern European epicenter of clubbing or something. That’s where the city really hit its stride.

Unfortunate for me.

The first night we hit a place near Kelsey’s hostel (this time, I went back to my original method of staying nearby). It wasn’t dissimilar from the places Kelsey had visited so far, but everything about the place was louder—­the music, the neon, the outfits. It was like the dial had been turned up on everything.

Including the women. I had never seen so many beautiful women in my life. Most of them were almost as tall as me (especially considering that nearly all were wearing heels). They had long dark hair, tanned skin, and a penchant for revealing clothing. I wasn’t sure if that was just because of the summer heat or the style. Either way, I wasn’t complaining. And when Kelsey started dressing to match, she definitely got her fair share of attention.

Her pale head stood out in the sea of dark skin and hair, and I watched men’s eyes follow her everywhere we went.

The men . . . well, they made it pretty easy for me to blend in. I’d say more than half of them had buzz cuts like mine. I fit in so easily that ­people were shocked when they realized I was American.

On our second day in Belgrade, I spent the afternoon hoping Kelsey would find something else to do that night.

I’d hit my one-­year mark and adopted a Serbian dinar as a replacement for the chip I would have gotten if I were back home. If there was ever a night that I deserved to have free of temptation, this was it. I’d thought reaching this milestone would make things easier. I could only liken it to climbing a cliff just to stand at the top and discover another one stretching up in front of you.

Was this what every year would feel like? Was this what the rest of my life would feel like? One goddamn cliff after another?

I wanted to do absolutely nothing. I wanted to hide out in my hotel room, in the dark, and maybe break a few things. But when Kelsey stepped out of her hostel that night in a glittering black strapless dress, I knew I wasn’t going to get my wish. I pulled on some leather shoes and a button-­up shirt. That was about as dressed-­up as I was willing to get at the moment.

We bypassed the clubs near the hostel and headed for the river. I stayed a few blocks back, far enough that, if Kelsey turned around and looked, she wouldn’t be able to make out much except the fact that I was a man. I kept my hand on my phone in case she turned and I lost track of her (which I did, twice).

When I found her the second time, I very nearly blew my cover. I was about to round a corner when I heard her voice. I stopped short, then edged closer and peered around a building to see her pacing along the sidewalk, talking on the phone.

When she turned her back to me, I slipped out onto the sidewalk and stood next to a bus stop. I could see her when she faced my direction, but the stop hid me decently well.

She said, “Things are fantastic, Bliss. I can’t even tell you how much fun I’m having.”

Her voice was enthusiastic, but there was a longing on her face that bordered on sadness as she spoke.

“Belgrade,” she said after a pause. “No, honey. It’s in Serbia. I’ll get to London, eventually. Why? Do you want me to bring home a British boyfriend like yours so we can have accent-­filled double dates?”

She laughed at something the other person said, and then pressed a hand to her chest like she was feeling for her own heartbeat.

“I miss you, too.”

For a moment, that natural light that seemed to accompany her everywhere dimmed. I thought that if I were to try to draw her now, I’d finally be able to capture her. It was the longing in her face. That’s what I’d been missing.

“Oh, you know me. I like to be the life of the party. Speaking of which, I should get back to it. Sorry I woke you up. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll call again soon.” She nodded, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She choked on a laugh that sounded closer to a sob. “Yeah, all the juicy stories. I promise. Yeah, good luck with the move. Everything is going to be great. I know it.”

She hung up, and stood staring at the phone for a few seconds. She looked as if all the energy had been siphoned out of her and she was running on empty.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head up toward the sky, letting her hand with the phone drop down to her side. She sucked in a few quick breaths like she was trying not to cry, and then abruptly dropped into a crouch.

In her short dress and heels, she looked as if she were trying to curl into a ball right there on the street. She rested her elbows on her knees and threaded her fingers through her hair, and I very nearly went to her.

I’d suspected something was wrong. Known it even. But could it be that simple? If she missed someone back home, why was she here? Why keep putting herself through all this?

I was dying to know.

Just when I was about to step out from the bus stop’s shadow, she stood, that empty expression gone from her face. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and pasted on a smile as if stepping onto a stage.

Then she turned and began walking again. I did what I always did. I followed.

When she approached the river and began walking down a ramp toward a giant boat, I sped up my walk. I was halfway down the ramp when she met who I assumed were bouncers, based on their dress and size. She opened a little black bag for them to inspect, and I joined the line behind her. There were two ­people between us, and by the time I walked onto the barge to discover a massive floating club, I’d lost her in the crowd.

Out on the river, it seemed about ten degrees cooler, but I took one look at the thicket of bodies and knew that coolness wasn’t going to last.

I donned a scowl, and began squeezing my way through the throngs of ­people. My little GPS app did jack shit in a place like this. It wasn’t exactly conducive to helping me find Kelsey in a sea of outrageously tall Serbians.

If I could just catch a glimpse of her . . . She should be easy to spot, but there were too many ­people.

After an hour of squeezing through nonexistent gaps on the dance floor, I started to worry. That phone call had done something to her. Made her emotional. And if I knew anything, it was that partying and emotions could be a combustible pair.

I checked my phone again, and as best as I could tell, Kelsey was still on the barge.

There were bar tables set up around the perimeters with waiters, and it was tempting to park myself there and wait. I edged closer to one of them, but by the look of it, you had to order drinks to keep the table. I didn’t trust myself to order a drink just for show.

But being on the perimeter, I caught a glimpse of one of the waitresses opening up a heavy velvet curtain to what I assumed was a VIP room. She pushed the curtain behind a hook to keep it open while she entered the room with a tray of drinks.

I caught my first glimpse of Kelsey.

She was dancing alone in front of a muscular guy with a permanent scowl. Her hands drifted through her hair, pulling it up and off her neck, and she carried on dancing as though she weren’t the only person in the room doing so. She crooked a finger at the angry dude, and though he leaned forward on his knees to look at her, he didn’t stand to dance.

Kelsey moved closer, walking two fingers across his wide shoulders to coax him into standing. He ran his hands up the back of her legs, gripping her thighs just below the short hem of her glittering dress.

I already hated him.

Eventually, Kelsey managed to charm him up from his seat, and she pulled him past the curtain toward the main dance floor.

She tugged on his hand, smiled, and then faced forward.

That was when her eyes locked on mine.