One Night In Amsterdam (4 page)

Our last stop was just across from Anne Frank’s house. I studied Emma’s face going from still to frown as she listened to the well-known, dolorous story of Anne, and how she wrote her diary.  Anne’s feelings about her life in hiding and the life outside while listening to the bells of the nearby church during Nazi occupation were more than heartbreaking. I saw streaks of tears on Emma’s cheeks as the guide talked. I didn’t like seeing Emma like that. She was too quiet and pensive. I wanted to hear sarcastic comments with her mordant wit.

“Come on Emma, it’s all in the past. Let’s not get all gloomy.  Leave all the grief here, and let’s go have some beer.” Sydney said.

“But I want to go the Anne Frank Museum. You agreed, don’t you remember?” she insisted.

“Ems! You’re just going to cry more and ruin your day. Why do you want to torture yourself?”

“Life is not always just about having fun, Sydney.” She sounded so damn serious. “You need to face the not-so-fun side of life sometimes as well.”

“You are impossible to argue with. Why do you always have to turn everything into brutal reality? Can’t you just let it go? Just this once? ”

“Because you choose to ignore them, doesn’t mean the horrible things didn’t happen,” Emma reprimanded her sternly. “And no, I can’t let it go. I prefer to live in reality, not in a dream state like you. What happened to Anne still happens in our world today. Look at ethnic cleansing in Western China, Rwanda, or Syria.”

“Oh, God Ems! Please don’t start with your ‘we need to save the world from horrible dictators’ speech. I cannot take it during vacation,” Sydney said harshly. I was surprised by her sudden outburst. I wondered how two girls this different from each other were close friends. “Let’s go have a drink first, then we’ll decide what to do next. Okay?” She tried to soften her.

“The tour is over. I am pretty sure Max and Dylan have other plans,” she uttered, insinuating that she didn’t want anything else to do with us. The warm smile she had given me when she leaned her head on my shoulder somehow disappeared. I didn’t understand the sudden change in her attitude. However, I was still not ready to let her go.

“Actually, we don’t have any plans for the rest of the day. We would love to join you. Don’t we Max?” I raised my eyebrows signaling Max to back me up.

“An ice cold beer after all that walking sounds great actually,” Max agreed, sensing my need for his confirmation.

“I am not in the mood for beer.” Emma rejected again.

“Didn’t you say ‘you owe me one’? How about you buy me a beer and we’ll call it even.” I teased her, but the look on her face was not promising.  Either she didn’t want to hang out with us or she was still frustrated with Sydney. I hoped it was the latter.

“Come on Emma! Just one beer.” I insisted. I was begging a girl to have a drink with me. That was a first.

After considering it a long minute, she nodded tactfully.  “Okay, fine! Just one beer and we are even.”

I smiled and immediately started thinking about a plan to make her spend the rest of her day with me.

CHAPTER 3

EMMA

“Where are we going for a drink, then?” I asked impatiently. I just wanted to get this over with. One beer and that would be it. The thought of spending more time with Dylan bothered me, and not because it wasn’t pleasant. On the contrary, I enjoyed being around him, maybe a little bit too much.  He was kind, congenial and funny.  The hours flew by as we walked the cobblestone streets of Amsterdam, talked about various things and laughed. Not just little chuckles here and there, they were big, eye-watering laughs.  What started as a little joke turned into a funny discussion of the worst first name and last name combinations. He knew William Tickel, ‘will tickle’, and Richard Kocke ‘dick cock’, while I came up with Benjamin Dower, ‘bend over’. Thanks to him, I had more fun in the last two hours than I have had in a long time. Then, what was the problem?

The problem was, the second his fingers touched my skin in front of the Royal Place, I felt a sudden jolt up my spine, as if a surge had gone through my body. Every nerve, every cell in my body was aware of him. My heart was beating so fast that I was worried he’d hear it. I thought about retrieving my hand and scolding him for inappropriate intimacy at first.  My logic was telling me that I shouldn’t let a guy I just met get this close to me. Falling for his devilish charm was so unlike me.  Then, why did I let him touch me?  I confessed to myself grudgingly that I was attracted to this arrogant, self-absorbed, but regally handsome guy with a wicked smile. I enjoyed his soft fingers caressing my skin. I savored inhaling his manly scent, leaning on his broad shoulders, drowning in the depth of his eyes where circles of gray surrounded fascinating blue. I hated cigarettes but the mixture of musk, sweat, and tobacco coming from his masculine body that pervaded the air between us was dizzying. It made me take a couple of deep breaths.

After a long, exhausting debate in my head, I assured myself that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to a handsome guy and some innocent flirting. Nonetheless, it was only for a few hours and we were both going our different ways after the tour. I was doing just fine… until Dylan wanted to join us after the tour.

“I checked tripadvisor, and there should be a decent pub around the block,” Sydney advised happily and tucked her phone with the resplendent cover into her designer backpack. I smiled thinking how everything Sydney owned, even a cell phone, was a fashion statement.

“Alright then, let’s go.” I mumbled.

We followed Sydney and Max, Dylan was walking leisurely by my side - our hands were close, but not touching. There was that unspoken attraction where we were both aware of each other, but we didn’t act on it.

“I’ll get the beer,” Dylan announced when we entered the pub.

“Wasn’t I supposed to buy? You know… to pay my debt.”

He narrowed his eyes and grinned slowly, “I’ve decided to hold on to that a bit longer. It might come in handy again.” He said playfully, and walked to the bar to get the drinks without giving me a chance to object.

A minute later, he sat four pint glasses on the table. “I didn’t know what you liked, but since we are in the Netherlands, I decided to go with the local beer. Hope you like Grolsch. It is a pale lager.”

I shrugged, “I don’t even know the difference between ale and lager,” I admitted shyly.

“That is some crucial information you are missing out on Emma,” he teased.

“Since I am not much of a drinker, I never cared to know, but I have a feeling that you are about to enlighten me.”

“Most definitely,” he replied with a devilish grin again.  “Ales are fermented warm at the top of the tank while lagers are fermented cold in the bottom of the tank. Ales can be brewed quickly, however lagers’ brew cycles can be months.  I like lagers more. They taste smoother and crisper.”

“All yellow beer tastes the same to me but I can understand why some people prefer lagers. Thanks for the info,” I said courteously. I didn’t want to diminish his petulant enthusiasm for explaining the whole brewing process. “Now that we are clear on beer trivia… Sydney, have you made up your mind yet?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes!”  I snapped.

“Fine! I will join and visit all the boring museums with you, but I have one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“I cannot take any more of this sober, uptight Emma. You are full of too much brutal reality. And since you moved out of my apartment, I guess I forgot how big a pain in the ass you could be. I’ll go with you, but you need to loosen up a little bit.”

“I am who I am, Syd! You can’t expect me to act different just because you want me to.”

“You can be a bit more relaxed and easy going, Ems. I know how we can make it happen. We are in the perfect place to do it.”

“Oh, no! I know what you are thinking and I am not doing it.” I shook my head vigorously as Dylan looked at me suspiciously, probably trying to figure out what we were talking about.

“Here is my offer. I am totally against the Anne Frank Museum. I can’t do it. Call me shallow or ignorant. I don’t care. I can’t deal with that kind of sadness during vacation. It’s horrifying. However…” She paused to see how I was taking her usual carefree attitude. “If you agree to do four tequila shots in two minutes, I will go to the Rijksmuseum with you. If you cannot do the shots, I vote for Casa Rosso. I’ve heard that Lady Gaga had been there and it is such a fun place. They have nine different live performances every day and I’d like to see them all.”

“You are threatening to take me to a live sex show if I don’t drink up. Am I hearing this right?”

“Yes, you heard me right. If you do your shots, I will tolerate the art museum, because at least, when you are tipsy, you won’t try to lecture us.”

I fumed with anger. If Dylan and Max weren’t there, I would have kicked her ass. “Fine, I’ll do it!”  I exclaimed laconically.

Dylan studied me carefully a long minute.  I saw his lips curving up a little, as if he was trying to keep himself from smiling. “Emma, are you sure about this?”

“If this shuts her up and makes her agree to do something more intellectual, something that I also enjoy, yes I am pretty sure.” I glared at her. “Sydney?”

“Yes, I will shut up.” She smirked and pretended to whisper. “I’m doing you guys a huge favor. Drunk Emma is funny and awesome.”

“Whatever!” I snorted, totally annoyed with Sydney.

“Alright, I’ll bring the shots. I’ll also check if they have anything for you to snack on,” Dylan said and sauntered towards the bar. My eyes slipped to his taut muscles beneath his shirt and his lean hips encased in his designer pants as he passed, and our bodies brushed against each other for a fleeting second. A sudden pang of delight suffused my body. “What was happening to me? Get a grip on yourself Emma,” I scolded myself inwardly.

I watched him stealthily as he talked to the bartender. Whatever he said to him, in a surreptitious manner, the bartender smirked and then nodded. After what seemed like a long discussion, he brought a small bowl of peanuts and four skinny but tall shot glasses. “Alright, your shots are ready to go,” he said. His gaze was dubious for some reason that I couldn’t figure out.

I put a couple of peanuts in my mouth and said, “I am ready, let’s do it.”

I reluctantly reached for the first shot glass and swallowed the whole thing immediately. Awkwardly the tequila didn’t taste as strong as I remembered. Instead of burning my throat, it tickled but went down smoothly. Without waiting for long, I took the second one, this one tasted even less like tequila. At that instant, I noticed Dylan’s intent gaze on me. He raised his eyebrows, and winked. It was subtle as if he was up to something and didn’t want anybody else to notice it.  He put his index finger on his lip and smiled.

We listened to Sydney prattle about our college days, her crazy parties and drunken nights as she sipped her beer, anxiously waiting to see the tequila’s inevitable effect on me. Since I rarely joined her parties and drink nights, - med students didn’t have the luxury to party every weekend like her sorority friends, she knew I was going to be tipsy soon.

I took my third shot hesitatingly; however this time, I realized immediately that I was drinking plain water in a shot glass. Dylan’s smile broadened with my confused look. He whispered in my ear softly. “Shush, just go with it. I poured water instead of tequila in your glasses.”

“But, why?”

“I happen to like sober and uptight Emma!” He whispered in my ear.  “And also… I would prefer to go to a museum more than a sex show.”

“Thank you,” I whispered back, my lips slightly brushed his neck, and he flinched. Seeing how he responded to my imperceptible touch, made me grin blithely.

After my third shot, and looking completely unaffected, Sydney, of course figured out something was up with me and the shots. I was just about to reach for the last one when she snatched it away and took a swig. “This is just water. Emma!” She exclaimed immediately. “You are cheating!”

“It wasn’t me! You saw it, Dylan brought the shots.” I broke into a chuckle.

She eyed Dylan fixedly, trying to figure out what he was up to, but Dylan only shrugged. She sniggered. “Since you obviously want Emma to win this thing, even by means of cheating, I think it is only fair that you get punished by escorting her to the museum.” Then, she turned towards me and continued. “Which means, Emma, I am out.”

“But, Sydney! You promised.” I tried to object.

Sydney pulled me aside and spoke quietly. “Ems, you have a gorgeous guy willing to go anywhere with you. Instead of diving headfirst into this opportunity, you are trying to drag me with you. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know. We were supposed to do this together. Wasn’t that the plan? Spend some good time with your BFF?” I grinned.

“That was before you brought a hot guy, obviously very attracted to you, into our plan.”

“You think he is attracted to me?” I asked shyly, biting my nails.

“Are you blind? He has been chasing you for the last two hours and he can’t keep his eyes off you. Look at him now, he is still checking you out. Just go, and please do something with him other than just looking at paintings.”