Hello Adventure

Chapter 27

"Come to the hotel. Have coffee with me before I must leave," Sebastian demanded on phone the next morning, his voice gravelly, still not fully sober. He didn't even ask me why I hadn't stayed the night. He didn't even apologize. And me? I didn't even expect him to.

I listen to Sebastian complain about the party. My feelings hadn't changed since last night. It was over between Sebastian and I—whatever we had—was done. And I was going to tell him so much.

"I really needed to talk to you," I told him. "I told you that last night and wouldn't even make time for me."

"Well, I'm making time for you now so hurry up and come to my hotel. My train leaves soon."

I hung up on him and started walking in the direction of the hotel. I knew it wasn't a good look to run when he called, but I had to tell him it was done, and I had to do it face to face, and most importantly—I had to do it now.

"Was I terrible to you last night?" Seb asked when I arrived in the lobby of the Danieli, his was face puppy-dog sad, battered from a night of drinking.

I sat down at his table in the lobby, ignoring the sun piercing through the window behind him. It was finally bright in Venice, and I couldn't even enjoy it.

"I need to tell you something," I announced again, looking across at him, both hands gripping the edge of the small round bistro table.

"I was so drunk." He looked down at his cold, milky coffee, untouched and congealed. "I was probably crying to you about my admissions essay for my masters program. Can I confide in you?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "I'm so just so worried about getting in. It's messing with my head. If I don't get in, that's it. I have no more financial support. You know, I got sacked from that job my father got me? I'm so screwed if I don't get in."

The snare snapped. There it is. There's the ask. There just had to be one, didn't there? Seb wouldn't have come all this way if he didn't want something from me, would he now?

"And what? You want me to help you?" I crossed my arms.

His face lit up. "Would you help me with the essay, ma souris?"

"Help you with the essay?" I scoffed in outrage, and his face morphed from hopeful to cynical.

"Fine. Don't worry about this. Let's not spoil our time by talking about school. We can talk about this later. This is so perfect." He flapped his wrist in the direction of the view half-heartedly. The smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries infiltrated the room. It made me think of Dale, and that thought squeezed deep in my chest.

"Amina always said you were a user."

Even Dale knew you were a piece of shit as well and he never even met you. I added in my head for my own benefit.

"This is why you're here, isn't it? To get me to write your admissions essay for you?" I tasted the resentment in my mouth. And I wanted to spit. At him.

"A user?" He straightened his shoulders back and looked affronted. "No ma souris, forget about that and listen to me: I came here to tell you how I feel! Come back to Switzerland with me today, yeah?" He leaned over the table and gripped his hands over mine, which were still clasped on the tabletop like I holding on for dear life. "Oh, ma souris, I've been thinking about you in my bed."

"Are you serious right now?" I wrestled my hands out from under his. "I could have been in your bed last night."

The moment I saw I couldn't un-see it: Sebastian was not good.

It was like one of those optical illusions where at first you think you're looking at two people kissing, but then, you look again and you see a vase. And then you can't not see the vase.