Vodka Espresso

3. london

September, 2009

Ingrid had never been a wallflower, but there was a first for everything, wasn't there?

Except as much as she enjoyed trying out new things, drinking by herself with her back against a wall did not have much going for it. Her Erasmus peers had been nice enough to her until then, but as the party got heated, she gravitated towards the edge of the crowd until she hit a wall. And stayed there.

Sighing, Ingrid straightened up and went to get another drink. Then returned to the wall. The only reason why she wasn't leaving already was because she hadn't had time to learn the way back to the dorm yet, and didn't want to splurge on a cab.

Ingrid stared into her glass. She yearned to be back in her room, at her desk, on her computer. Jack might have e-mailed. Or Sienna might have written to her on that silly Facebook. Or maybe—

A shadow suddenly towered over her. Ingrid looked up. A short-haired girl, with a glass in one hand and a cigarette between her fingers, stood raising her eyebrow at Ingrid.

"Have we met?" the stranger asked.

Ingrid shrugged and pushed herself off the wall. "I guess we have now."

The girl grinned. Stuck the cigarette between her lips to hold out a free hand. "I'm Agata."

"Ingrid."

"Where are you from, Ingrid?"

"You mean, originally or which university?"

Agata took a long drag from her cigarette. "So why are you ashamed of your origins?"

Ingrid blinked, speechless. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, don't beg my fucking pardon, answer the fucking question."

Ingrid's eyes widened. Agata walked over to her, put an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's take a walk."

They walked outside, not far from the venue, until they reached a canal and sat down by it. It turned out that Agata attended the same university in London, although she was a psychology major, and had spent the summer in Amsterdam with her boyfriend. The sneaky fuck had just dumped her, though, after she'd gone to the trouble of securing a scholarship to prolong her stay, and she decided to come out to this ridiculous Erasmus party in an attempt to get herself laid.

"And how's that working out for you?" Ingrid found herself asking.

Agata extinguished her cigarette and reached for a couple more in her back pocket. "Well, I scored some pot, so...So far, so good."

She gave one joint to Ingrid, who accepted it with some reluctance. It wasn't her first, but Rose frowned upon any and all drugs, so her London crew rarely went wild on weed.

"Is this shit legal?"

"Nobody fucking cares, love. It's fucking Amsterdam."

Ingrid put the hand-rolled cigarette in her mouth and leaned into Agata's lighter.

June, 2017

Ingrid zipped up her suitcases and lugged them out to the hall, one by one. She was struggling with a particularly large one when Remi walked out of the bathroom and came to take it from her hands.

"I got this, baby," he told her and pushed her aside.

"Thanks," she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"All set?"

Ingrid examined her luggage. "I think so. I hope so."

"Well...London is something of a homecoming, isn't it?"