Page 66 of Guy's Girl
Jozsef Borza is half the size of the rest of the boys with twice the personality. Ginny’s first impression of him is a head of unkempt blond hair flapping in the breeze as he bounces down the street toward their group. “Haver!” he yells, one arm waving frantically over his head. “Haver!”
Adrian leans over to the group, a smile tugging at his lips. “That meansdude.”
When Jozsef reaches them, he bounds into his best friend’s arms, tackling him in an over-the-shoulder hug. Adrian is so much taller than Jozsef that he ends up lifting his friend off the pavement and swinging him in a circle.
“Welcome to Budapest!” Jozsef says to the group after Adrian sets him down. “Sophisticated, cosmopolitan, and filled to the brim with politicians so corrupt they’d make your US senators blush.” He winks. “But at least the nightlife is great, eh?”
“I like him already,” says Clay.
They start at Szimpla Kert, the most famous ruin pub in the city. As Adrian and Jozsef explain, ruin pubs first popped up in District VII, a section of the city left to decay after World War II. Over time, an underground bar scene developed, with colorful pubs opening inside the ruins of abandoned stores, warehouses, and homes. From the street, the buildings are unmarked and unassuming; only flickering lights and the faint thump of music hint at revelry. But within—
Szimpla Kert is a circus. Tucked inside an old factory, among crumbling brick walls and rusted handrails, a bar has been cobbled together out of worn wooden high tops and rickety stools. The space is decorated with lush plants, neon lights, old advertisements pinned to the walls, and even chairs suspended from the ceiling with cables. Ginny wanders the crowded maze, mouth agape. Each room is different: some hold foosball tables or bathtubs filled with padding and converted into benches. Every wall has been scrawled over in spray paint and permanent marker, a cloud of names and messages.
For a brief moment, Ginny forgets all about Finch. She forgets all about Adrian. She forgets about purging, about anorexia, about all the pain that exists outside these walls. She sees only color and light.
Jozsef leads them out to the open-air patio. Hanging lamps illuminate the space. At the very center, an old car has been painted, stickered, sliced open, and transformed into a booth, inside of which a group of friends laughs loudly. Jozsef cuts around the car and points to a picnic table.
“I’ll get the first round,” he yells, then elbows his way toward the bar.
The group sits—Ginny, Clay, and Finch on one side, Adrian and Tristan on the other. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny sees Finch lean into Clay’s ear, speaking with fervor. Every few moments, his eyes dart over to her. She pointedly ignores him.
After a few minutes, Jozsef returns with a cluster of glass mugs. He sets them at the center of the table and slides in between Adrian and Tristan, launching immediately into a story about the couple that was standing next to him as he ordered the drinks.
Ginny likes his Hungarian accent. It’s crisp and precise, each syllable distinct from the other. Unlike Americans, Jozsef does not mumble or swallow any of his consonants; he pronounces everything as carefully as a computer.
Yet his personality could not be less mechanical. He tells stories like an excited puppy, jumping from subject to subject too quickly for Ginny to follow. She laughs every time he circles back, trying to remember how he got there in the first place.
“Tell me a word that’s unique to Hungarian,” she says when Jozsef reaches a lull in one of his stories.
“What do you mean?”
“Like... people always say that German has these unique words for highly specific emotions or actions. Things we don’t have in English.” Overhead, the soundtrack switches abruptly from thumping pop to an oldies remix. “Does Hungarian have anything similar?”
“Let’s see...” Jozsef lays his chin on his palm, tapping his jaw with one finger. “Haver, you could answer this question, too.”
“Not as well as you,” says Adrian.
Jozsef’s eyes light up. “I have one! Have you heard the wordelvágyódás?”
“Ahhh.” Adrian smiles.
“Can’t say that I have,” says Ginny.
“It describes a very specific feeling.” Jozsef leans forward. “The intense desire to get away from where you currently are.”
Ginny’s mouth spreads into a slow smile. “Elvágyódás.That’s an incredible word.”
“It is. A very useful one, too.” Jozsef taps the table twice with his middle finger. “I have another. We have a word,rosszarcú.It can be a noun or an adjective, and it describes someone with an ‘evil air.’ ”
Ginny cocks her head. “Like... an evil person?”
“No.” Jozsef shakes his blond hair. “Not necessarily. They just have an evilairabout them.”
Without meaning to, Ginny glances over at Finch. Adrian sees her do it. He bursts out laughing. Ginny’s cheeks burn, but then she starts to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Clay asks.
“Nothing,” Ginny and Adrian say together. They glance at each other.
