julia.

11:52pm Stop eating.  11:53pm But the pakora will go soggy overnight! xx  11:53pm STOP eating. 11:53 Say please. xx 11:54pm You are ri--

“Oh, sorry.” Julia murmured, narrowly avoiding a collision as she walked down the hallway. The carpet was plush, here, which her tired feet rejoiced for momentarily before realizing that her heels sunk into it, making each step a little more difficult than the last. Texting helped. Ben helped. Thinking of pakora helped.

She glanced up and gave a tight, polite smile. Her eyes didn’t focus right away, and it wasn’t thanks to too much drink, she was sure of it. But pakora sounded good. And malai kofta. And those honey pastry rounds. And -- 

“Oh, hey.”

Hi would have been better. A little less casual. Or hello! Hello was properly formal. At the sight of Theo, her spine stacked straight. Uneasiness filled the space between them, her gaze flitting quickly from him to the wall behind him. The room number glinted gold, and she twisted -- barely more than a twitch -- to glance at the room behind her. 254. Hers was 254-- no, 245. Thank fuck, she was almost there.

“Are you-- you’re not staying--”

Lines crossed her brow, she bobbed her head side to side and made a quick face. Rewind. What was she trying to say? Was it important?

Finger over her shoulder, she pointed to the room he’d just exited. “Are you here?”

@theo-henriksen

“I’ll get it.”

Rarely did Julia offer to be the serving girl, but it was a blessed reprieve from Julian and Radford’s conversation about water rights in Uruguay. Waiting in line at the bar -- there were servers, floating, but she hadn’t netted out how that system worked yet -- she took a moment to check her phone. No new notifications.

Usually, that was a win, but that night it made her feel somewhat lonely. She’d FaceTimed Ben earlier, while she was getting ready -- he was all tucked in for a quiet night in their flat -- but even her girl’s chat, a cachet of coworkers from her last company, had fallen silent. Where was everyone?

The bartender passed a drink back to her, and a hand reached out for it. Julia froze. “Oh, sorry-- I think that’s mine.”

Unity Gala; Who What Wear

Who. 1. Who I’m most excited to see Honestly, I’ll be happy to see the end of this. And hopefully won’t have made a fool of myself along the way. 2. Who I’m least excited to see The pirates. Or not-pirates. Former pirates? The honorees. 3. Who I’d be seen on the dance floor with God help me if Julian wants to dance. 

What. 4. What my acceptance speech will say, if I win an award tonight N/A 5. What I’m wearing This. It looks like something my mom wore in the 90s from the front. 6. What drink I’m going to order first Something I don’t like very much, so I’ll drink it slow. Gin? Champagne? Probably champagne. That would look better.

He could’ve texted his friend over the last few months. They could have met at a jetty bar or on a Stockholm rooftop bar overlooking the old cobblestones below, sipping drinks and discussing if the pub food was worthy enough. Not a difficult thing to arrange. 

There wasn’t much stock to be taken in a coincidence either. A boat passing a Swedish beach, a wealthy family happened to play on it. The cliché of a small world could be very real in their part of the world. 

Theo looked back for a last glimpse at his siblings gathered on deck. He could almost hear Signe’s exasperation carried by the wind, Theo is so rude, always making us wait on him.

He followed Julia and watched her sit in a swing. A hand rested on the supporting frame of the playset, standing nearby with the borrowed towel draped around his neck. 

Theo wasn’t used to seeing her without thick wool sweaters and a book bag. She looked smaller. Happier. Julia’s foot grazed his leg. Light eyes followed, very tempted to reach for her ankle as a little shiver ran up his spine. 

Are you trying to impress me? Theo smiled, glancing away, adjusting to block the sun from her eyes as he looked back to her. “Can anyone impress you?” Sometimes he had to wonder. So often Julia remained cool, crisp as the piney juniper gin drinks she made for parties. 

He paused. A few squeals echoed from the beach. A few hints of Swedish in the distance but nothing registered. The old swing Julia sat on squeaked now and again. 

Julia was quiet. He didn’t imagine any awkwardness of only having tests and professors to chat about. This was different. They tethered themselves in a way which left a lot of slack between them. All the other had to do was give the line a tug of attention. 

“I am waiting to hear all the ways in which the impromptu visit is taking you away from drinks and lounging in the sun. Otherwise, I may not be able to cope with a reserved Julia. Or am I mistaken, and I’ve walked off with one of the cousins? It is hard to keep them all straight.” He reached for the ropes of the swing above her head and pushed. 

“I am the one swinging, and you’re on the ground.” she returned with the cock of a dark eyebrow. Reserved sounded like a bad word when he said it, like it was something she very solidly should not be. And maybe, had they been in Cambridge, had she been on slightly less solid ground, she would have taken his words to heart. There was a premium laid on fitting in at uni. It was important to make friends, to build some semblance of a family, of security. 

But here? On her beach, with her family, beneath her midsummer sun? Julia merely grinned and dipped back, bending her legs at the very last second to send herself sweeping backward, the swing climbing higher. She didn’t seek his approval.

“Have you talked to Ben much? He is very--” her fingers released the edge of the swing, snapping in the air for the word. “--texty.”

----

November, the second year. Cambridge again. 11:35pm

“Okay, okay, ya, I’ll text you all when I’m home.” Her words were lost in a smattering of cheek kisses and quick, drunken hugs. Hands seemed to wander after the second club, one of Jonah’s slipping a little past her lower back. Julia pulled back, grinned, and said nothing of it. It didn’t bother her, just then. It was nice to feel-- well. Pretty wasn’t the right word for it.

Far across the darkened dance floor, she could make out the silhouette of Theo and -- was it Lisette? Hayley? Catrina. It didn’t matter, and she didn’t wave.

Outside the throbbing of the club, the air was cool and wet. She hailed a taxi -- a newfound skill -- and climbed in the back with a little less grace than she’d had an hour before. Her head was swimming on good liquor and too-few sushi. Her toes were cold but didn’t hurt.

Home and into the shower, her hair knotted in a bun high atop her head. Fairy lights twinkled over her bed as she padded across the studio flat, the blue light of her laptop illuminating her hands as she made an over-large coffee. It was harder to study after a night out, but immeasurably easier to write essays. The familiar blank document opened before her, and she began to write.

A knock at the door tossed her out of her reverie; Deliveroo was usually swamped this time of night. Fishing a few bills out of her purse, she unlatched the front door.

A beat. Taken aback less by the sight and more by the lack of peri-peri chicken.

“... Sorry. I thought you were Nando’s.”

She stepped aside to let him in, the rain pouring just off the edge of the stoop -- a constant backdrop to Cambridge.

“Where’s Jessica?”

Cambridge days had been set aside once Theo had touched down in Copenhagen. Much of it rushed back to arrive with Julia’s text. The sun felt different, they stood on stand. Julia had gained a couple of freckles since they last spoke. The patter between them hadn’t change. It was only interrupted by a child who had the same new puppy energy level of Viggo. 

Someone handed Theo a towel and he nodded with a tack så mycket. He didn’t take his eyes off Julia. The unexpected stop, swim, and seeing a familiar face erased the lethargy of the hangover. 

A few on the beach wanted to know who had arrived why in a small stir of activity. Theo answered, politely charming as any prince had been bred to be. Tempted to retrieve Julia’s retort cut off by their siblings, but he wouldn’t. That sort of banter only fired between them with nothing to shield the other, and they were in mixed company. 

In between tugs on his arm by a little brother and introductions, Theo slung the towel around his neck and spoke over the heads to Julia, searching to connect to her gaze. “Could we take a walk?” There were other eyes on them anchored in the shallows, but he wouldn’t invite most of the Henriksen clan on shore unless it was welcomed. Not his place to, unless someone specifically wanted the scrutiny of one Signe Henriksen. Theo could see the backlit figure of his older sister leaning over the side rail of the boat, beyond the curiosity of his other siblings, straining to spy and weave her own idea of where her brother had gone. 

“Otherwise, show me around so I can see the summer getaway I have heard so much about.” No matter the options offered, Julia had a way of inventing her own. Option J, for Julia, Theo liked to call it. With choice of takeaway, in deciding on where the Cambridge group of friends would spend the evening. She had a way of corralling everyone, several take-charge personalities in their own right, in the direction she wanted them to go, whether they had considered said direction or not. 

A certain way about her. Steering others without being overbearing. Driven by the need for fun, reading the nuances of multiple moods and temperaments converging on a Saturday night or a Sunday afternoon. The ending instigated by her sometimes abrupt when Julia had enough, and without consulting others. “Choose a place to discuss the terms of the restraining order I am taking out on you.” 

In one moment, she couldn’t believe that he was there -- materialized out of seafoam and the long, summer days. Almost like his flag, battering against the soft wind on the gleaming, long boat, could conjure his presence. Julia squinted out toward the water, searching. There were figures there, still. Family? Security? There wasn’t anything to be afraid of in Naset, just coarse sand and tall grass. And nothing on the channel, or in summertime, either. The days stretched long, the sun still high, and she’d spent the better part of the week drunk on summer wine and berry tarts.

Alternate moments served up a different story: of course he was there. And where else would he be? And why had it taken so long? They were like two flames in Cambridge, small and slight to start, hesitant in a new world. Neither were the quiet type, and she’d heard his voice arch high in whoops and shouts down a darkened, cobblestone alley enough times to know it -- but Cambridge, but England, swelled in such a cacophony. She felt better in a crowd, stronger in a pub, even, when he was around.

Could we take a walk? Julia, smaller than her cousins, gave a nod and stepped away from the group. Sand gave way beneath her heels, and she paced back slowly, waiting for him to disentangle. It was a delicate dance. She didn’t dare speak the word prince.

To their credit, the cousins were so drunk on starköl that they wouldn’t have minded, anyway.

A long minute passed between them in silence, the voices and seagulls retreating as they made their way across the eastern slope. The sand grew fine as they left the water, reedy grass poking out in patches. Say something clever, she thought. She wanted to. That was their agreement, really -- Theo thought he could charm anyone he wished, whenever he wished. Julia’s cleverness kept him at bay.

But she’d spent days drunk on wine and the summer, and it made her thoughts slow.

Cresting the top of a small bluff did two things: obscured them from view of the beach and water, and revealed a small playset. Withered over time, the wood was solid but the plastic of ropes and swing-seats faded. Julia reached for one such, tugging it toward her and sitting down. She swayed, watching him. She didn’t know what to say.

I missed you.

But she bit it back. And why? There was nothing wrong with the truth.

Squinting up at him, she swung forward just far enough to brush her foot against his leg, just above his knee. It stopped just short of being an accusing poke.

“Are you trying to impress me?”

Originally, the four were to leave the two youngest siblings behind. They wanted to drink, smoke, and gossip freely without the littlest spies among them. The Queen relented to the smallest whines. Theo brokered a deal, as he typically did between parents and siblings: the four would take Viggo and Astrid with them on the boat as long as security remained behind. 

Kennet pushed the boat fast and far into neighboring waters. 

Theo attempted to sleep off a hangover but Signe eventually coaxed (threatened) him up on deck. A few minutes later Viggo, his youngest brother, let go of a shrill yell that sliced through him like a knife. Stranden! De vil have mig til at stoppe, kan jeg stoppe? The phone in his hand buzzed. Theo looked down with a confused frown before following Viggo’s point. Wh…what? 

Julia? 

Viggo wasn’t much of a challenger in the swim to the beach. The rest of the Henriksens anchored and stayed aboard the large boat pretending not to watch from the distance. 

“How did you spot me? Was it a hunch or the gigantic Danish flag my brother is flying?” Julia had mentioned the beach. Theo remembered but had not mentioned to anyone as they sailed out of Denmark. They stood in the sand. One soaked and dripping from the swim, the other as cool as ever in the late Swedish sun.

The playful snipes, wicked sense of humor, the way she gracefully weaved through crowded dinner parties without spilling a drink. The things Theo hadn’t thought about since leaving Cambridge were standing in front of him. When he was a little worse for wear.  

But between friends it should not matter. “I do not mean to crash the Näset beach party. It would have been rude of me to sail by without a word.” 

It was difficult to keep the surprise off her face as two figures swam up to the beach. The late sun shimmered off the water, turning everything golden, and Alys shrieked and ran into the surf to greet them, sending a flock of seagulls calling high into the air. Julia, for her part, did little but stare. Beside her, her phone lit up again, but she didn’t hear it vibrate, much less see it. 

The frisbee game paused for only a second before Filip threw and Adam leapt into the air to catch it. All of the Lauridsens, even the cousins, had dark hair and skin that turned golden in the summertime. Adam laughed, twenty-four and back from university. Julia, still sitting, noted that the frisbee was blue.

And what good was that?!

This was Theo’s modus operandi, she knew. She’d watched it play out so many times over the last year, a flash of a black, metallic credit card at the bar, the razor-sharp glint of teeth at a pretty girl across the room. Subtle at first, but he always made a grand entrance. He was too tall to disappear into a crowd, anyway.

Sand covered his ankles, and she looked at them first, her gaze slowly trailing up his legs. The sand turned dark in a halo around him; her own legs dry and freshly showered. Julia found herself smiling.

How did you spot me?

“I’m just obsessed with you, I sup--”

“Arethereanyjuicesinyourbag?!” Alys, once chattering happily to the other boy a few feet away, had pivoted on her right foot and darted up to Julia.  Her retort was ruined.

Utterly unbeholden to an answer, Alys pulled open the straw bag to paw inside. Chapstick and magazine paper rattled as she dug through, finding what she wanted quickly enough and leaving only sand on the towel in her wake. “Helvete.” Julia murmured, though her smile persisted. She looked back at Theo and reached up her hand.

“Isn’t it close to your bedtime?” Or, better said -- hi.

Statistics. Not to be confused with math, broadly, as Julia often trips up at basic division (and still sings a song to help with higher-number multiplication... but in her head!). But statistics, the computing of large amounts of information into digestible sums for the sake of comparison -- that’s where she shines. And she’s good at it outside of numbers; one of her finest qualities is her ability to distill and distinguish signal from noise and make clear decisions based on it.