58 – THE MOST EXPECTED KISS
Before going to my room, I passed the little grocery store in the village and bought a new hair cream. It had been a while since I had taken care of myself. I didn’t feel ugly, but my hair was really dry.
Before the trip, which feels like another life, I would do my nails and wash my hair in the salon every week. I would dye my hair every three months and have it hydrated once a month. I also routinely had sections of laser hair removal and eyebrow design. When I packed my backpack for Canada, I hesitated to leave the hair dryer behind. Would I survive without drying my bangs?
It was unbelievable to recognize myself in that person who didn’t have her nails polished with sun-stained skin. I was still vain, but now I shaved with a razor and had learned to like my natural hair. The blemishes on my face, which got much worse after the hormone treatment to get pregnant, bothered me a little, so I couldn’t put the 100% makeup aside. Still, I was glad to stop feeling hostage to those weekly hours I spent in the beauty salon.
That night, though, after crying so hard on the beach, I wanted to enjoy the fact that my Ukrainian roommate had left and use our tiny pink bathroom as my private spa.
In addition to the hair cream, I also bought a body moisturizer and deodorant, since mine was at the end.
I turned on a lively playlist and, with the bathroom door open, to let the music in, I bathed as a princess. I shaved my legs and armpits while a plastic bag enhanced the moisture in my hair, and I used the lace of one of my panties to exfoliate my face skin with the shampoo foam.
I put on a generous amount of moisturizer on my wet body and ended up drying myself naturally as I danced at Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You,” completely naked.
My healing on the beach made me so light that I seemed to be walking on clouds. Along with the weight the tears took away, the makeshift spa with in-room music helped lift my self-esteem and energy. I put on some natural makeup, marking my eyes with brown eyeshadow, an extra layer of mascara and arrived for dinner with my hair still wet.
Jean and I looked at each other with an almost intimate mutual understanding of what it meant to miss Luana.
At the airport, before boarding for Croatia, she sent me a message telling me that she woke up to a delightful “bonjour.” That afternoon, before going to the beach, I ran to the bus stop to say goodbye to my friend and Brazilian confidant. I met Jean with her and also saw when the Australian who worked at the bar arrived by tricycle to say goodbye too.
She and the Australian had a night together before Jean, but the situation was confused between them and Luana ended up being enchanted by the Frenchman’s artistic way. I can’t blame her. If he was a few inches taller, I would have surrendered too.
- It seems that Brazilians are very disputed here in Greece – she had fun in the message she sent me on her cell phone.
That night the corner table near the bulky beige curtains became my usual table.
- Now you’ll have to adopt me.” – I said making a sad face, as I pulled the chair next to Laurent. – Or I’ll have to sit with Luis – I continued to place both hands on my chest in supplication.
- All right. We are not that bad. You’re welcome.” – Jean said dismissively.
Luis soon joined us, but strangely seemed more distracted. Some volunteers and guests had left that very afternoon, and a new wave of strangers arrived. It was a smaller group, which made the hostel bar even more empty. However, Luis seemed quite interested in the girls who were starting to fit in. There were at least four girls of different nationalities. All of them were wearing the guest bracelets.
I couldn’t help thinking that the universe had conspired in my favor after the release of all that stagnant energy during my meditation on the beach. It was hard to believe that this was just a coincidence.
After dinner, Jean, Laurent, and I went to the games room, where an Australian and an American shared one of the pool tables. The French occupied the other table while I sat next to watch the game. Although I’m feeling great, Luana’s departure left a certain melancholy in everyone.
The Australian finished his pool game and there were only the three of us in the games room. Aware that he was the third wheel, Jean finished his cigarette and went to his room early, leaving Laurent and I sitting on the stairs.
The temperature had dropped a little that night, and I was surprised that Luis made no near-ghostly appearance around me. I considered suggesting one last beer at the reception bar, but the fear of losing that moment of peace spoke louder. I confess I came to think that hellish Portuguese would never leave us alone, but that moment was finally here and none of us knew what to do.
Even so, that discomfort was delightful. We both tried to disguise our shy grins and measure our words. We both knew our first kiss was closer than ever. We knew it would be that night, we just didn’t know how to let it happen. Who would take the first step? What to do? Say something or just kiss?
Looking to buy time, we talked about my friendship with Luana and how we became close despite the difference of almost 13 years. It was very clear that we were going around the bush so I decided to take a stand and somehow give him an ultimatum.
- Time to go to bed. – I got up, unable to hide my anxiety.
We walked together to the hall that led to my room and stopped facing each other. My heart was still racing, but this time it was different. I couldn’t mask the smile on my face. And neither could Laurent.
- So… – He raised those innocent, charming blue eyes as he took my hand.
- So… – I answered awkwardly, looking back at him; I then looked down and saw our fingers intertwining. I also watch as he took a step closer toward me before I felt the other hand touching my neck and lifting my face gently.
We looked at each other anxiously, almost euphorically but at the same time relieved. Finally, our long-awaited kiss would happen and it was as if he wanted to freeze that moment too. The moment between the certainty of what would come and the end of our wait.
I closed my eyes and opened my lips as he sighed before touching my mouth for the first time.
“So is this the French kiss I wanted so badly?” I asked as I felt the care with which he pressed his body against mine. I ran my hands down the nape of his neck and held his face to feel his breath blow my nose. I wanted him to be sure that I had longed for that moment. I wanted to feel if he had wanted that too.
- Finally – I said with my eyes still closed.
- Finally – he agreed smiling.
- See you tomorrow – I said before kissing him again, slowly.
- Sure. Maybe you’ll invite me to your room? – He smiled mischievously.
59 – INTENSIVE AND KIND AS I’VE NEVER SEEN
We walked down the street of the hostel hand in hand and headed to one of the typical bars. Luis, Jean, Laurent, and I were practically an inseparable quartet. No one insisted on Luis’s presence, but we were the only group that put up with him. Over time, I think I got used to his way.
Laurent was 10 years younger than me, and that was no problem for us. He said he didn’t care, but I confess I had a somewhat more critical judgment. I always wonder what people would think of a 37-year-old woman venturing into the backpacking world and dating much younger boys. “Being happy,” I answered myself to quiet my ego.
- Age is just a number, Paula. Besides, you don’t look over 30 – he told me the only time we talked about it.
That night, while the four of us were playing pool, Laurent and I exchanged glances and kisses, while being observed by Luis. The bar was empty as usual and the colored lights made a disproportionate movement to the excitement of the people at the tables.