Pink places, warm lights, setting sun. Empty bottles/minds, purpose on the brain but summer on the tongue.
These strangers quickly became my friends. We spent the past year scattered across France, and our past lives before that scattered across the world. I wasnât sure if I would like summer school. But whatâs not to like about sleepy mornings, half-hearted academia, and champagne soirĂŠes in crumbling, high ceilinged apartments?Â
We're doing pre-drinks, I'm feeling like myself, and I'm excited about this. I like these people. I like that they're different. I like that they are different, because that means they are a little like me.
Empty bottles of Stella, chardonnay, rosĂŠ: all of the pretty pale things. Unsuspicious smiles. We're all just trying to live a little closer to our bones and shine out the whites of our eyes.Â
The plan is to go to The Cabasson, an unpretentious bar down the street. Apparently, it's the only cool place in town. I'm game. It's midnight and girls are saying, âare we headed to the Cabasson or not?â Theyâre faltering, but not me. We walk, and it's close, just a few blocks. Smokers litter the sidewalk outside.Â
I follow Isabel's hot pink hair inside. Note to self: stay friends with girls who have pink hair. The barâs crowded, and some of the others are getting discouraged. But I can't pass up on this.Â
We scope the bar, it's crowded, but lord, it is so lovely. These are the kinds of people I've been looking for. We spot a table of guys, decently young, decently good looking, with a few empty seats. They have an untouched pack of Uno cards in front of them. We dance around the idea of making a move, when I finally just tell Isabel to use her pretty Parisienne French and ask if we can play Uno with them. They say yes, and we file in. I'm next to Jade, we're both getting happily punch drunk. Somewhere in those first moments, she must have recognized Benjamin. She said nothing.Â
We go around the table, exchanging names. They tell us they are German, and Isabel starts speaking German (of course). Someone asks where we go to school. We pop off with Sciences Po, that weâre here for summer school. They go quickly silent, faces jesting with disbelief, and Benjaminâs a bit darker than the rest. âReally,â his brother asks, edging out laughter, âbecause that's where he teaches.â I'm taken aback. He's the beautiful one at the table.
I wouldn't have even imagined in that moment all that would happen.Â
We're quick to counter that we don't actually even go to this townâs campus, that we're mostly students at Le Havre, plus me, at the satellite campus in the south. Oh, and Jade goes to Reims. There is a beat of laughter, and eyebrows are raised. She knows exactly who he is â and reluctantly shows it as her eyes dart between the table and her phone. What the fuck ever, we decide. Let's just play Uno.Â
So, we do, and it's perfect fun. Benjaminâs brother buys a bottle for the table. We're all yelling and our eyes are creasing at the corners and drinks are spilled and sly smiles exchanged. Yeah, Angela Merkelâs a badass. Shut the fuck up, that's such fake news. Hey, let's get another drink?Â
He's stunning; angelic with the devil's smile. He discloses in what feels like a dialogue between just the two of us his age. I say I don't mind, and it's true.Â
Isabel and I step outside to smoke. I ponder the importance of pink haired girls. âThat professor is hot, isn't he?â âYeah god, he's so hot... I donât know if I can stop myself from making a move,â I say, playing coy -- but it's much more of a fever dream than a reality.Â
Back in the bar, I use the restroom, drink several glasses of water, and get ready to go in for the kill. My black skinny jeans were a little loose around my hips for the first time in weeks. In the low-lit mirror, I push my hair into all the right soft angles. My tank top is begging to ride up, and I'm not arguing. Let's go, I think, and walk back to the table smirking and glowing, and, even if nothing happens, I feel more myself than I have in ages.Â