Page 30 of Monarch
Xir shaved head, xir dark brown eyes, xir sleeve sneaking out of xir achingly cool knitwear. Fuck xem. Fuck. Xem.
When I finally exit the huge conference space the convention is being held in, I take in a series of deep breaths as if to cleanse myself of these thoughts of Lex. I don’t have time to assess whether it’s worked or not because my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
I smile at my friend Dion’s text. I have absolutely no clue what he’s talking about – other than he is absolutely not asking for a friend – but it sounds like a fun development in his life.
I text back.
I sigh as other people leaving the convention walk by me. I haven’t yet made my move towards the Metro station, and considering Roos can’t see me for a few more hours, I’m in no rush.
I stop typing. Dion knows Lex. He knows our history. If I mention xir name, he will only confirm what I know to be the smart thing to do. He will tell me to run a mile, from xem and from Roos. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to not see Roos again.
I finish and send.
I text before adding,
Dion texts back.
I reply before pocketing my phone. It’s true. I do miss Dion, who has become my closest work buddy and oneof my best friends in recent years, but I don’t miss him or the studio or even my mum and Dove in the way I think I should. It’s like I’m fully present here in Amsterdam. I’m fully here in this city – mind, body, and soul – and despite all the chaos of the morning, I feel alive. I feel untethered, free and full of possibility.
Maybe it’s simply because this is my first time travelling alone for work. Maybe it’s because of meeting Roos and how she makes me feel. Maybe it’s even because I have now faced one of my biggest fears – seeing Lex again – and I have survived it.
I open my bag and rummage around in the inside pocket. I pull out the card for Pink Elephant, a tattoo studio here in Amsterdam. I got talking to the soft-spoken owner in the coffee queue earlier, and I was blathering on about how much I like the city and how I wish I could stay a bit longer, and he smiled knowingly. When I finally stopped and came up for air, he gave me his card and said if I ever did end up staying, I could contact him about renting a chair in their studio. At the time, I’d stared at the card and felt moved by his politeness, thinking that that’s all the offer was, but now I wish I’d asked more questions and shown more interest. I vow to look out for him again tomorrow and, failing that, go visit the studio myself before I leave.
Not that I’m seriously thinking about staying. I mean, that would be ridiculous when Lex lives here. As soon as I think it, I feel full of rage again. Letting xem stop me from doing what I want is what’s really ridiculous.
Because fuck Lex. Fuck xem.
After another deep breath, this one coming and going more easily, I walk to the Metro station and head back to my hotel for a bath and change of clothes so I can be clean, fresh, and looking my best for Roos.
*****
I nurture the swirl of butterflies in my stomach as I walk down to the lobby ten minutes before Roos is supposed to arrive. I deserve this excitement. I deserve this vibrant attraction to someone. I deserve to feel good, full stop. I’m surprised when I see Roos already in the small bar-lobby area, sitting elegantly in a high-back armchair, her long legs crossed. She stands up immediately upon seeing me, and I take in the full sight of her. She’s wearing a short black skirt, or maybe it’s a dress that continues under her hip-length wool jacket, and brown ankle boots that only make her legs look longer and slimmer than should be anatomically possible. Her hair falls down over her shoulders in loose blonde waves, and she’s wearing an adorably cute purple beret on top of her head, slightly tilted to one side.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Hi,” I say as I stand in front of her.
“Hi,” she says with a shy smile that tells me she feels something possibly close to what I’m feeling right now for her.
“Do you want to…” I look around. “Have a drink?”
She shakes her head, but her smile grows. “Can we go up to your room?”
I am starting to think I could fall for her directness alone. I’ve always been a sucker for someone who knows exactly what they want and asks for it.
“Of course,” I say, and I slip my hand into hers. I squeeze her fingers before leading her out of the room and towards the lifts.
