L'Aéropostale, 9-ish p.m.
Sitting at a table, alone, facing the singer in the dim bar, she was feeling like smoking a cigarette. All around her, couples were turning, dancing to a soft tune, most of them grown-ups and elders. Her parents also were among them, and they were shining. Her mother was almost as tall as her father, and the loving looks they shared, their smiles and laughters were like a reward, an invitation to happiness, a moment of bliss and perfection. They were shining.
The man made his way through the crowd of dancing couples and spotted her. She knew that a single look could make him come to her. Add to that her naked shoulders, her white pants outrageously clinging to her legs and thighs, her dark hair waving wildly down her back, her puffy red lips longing for a kiss... He had a "Screwdriver" in hand. He came and sat down at her table. They smiled at each other. She eyed his outfit : he looked smart, pageant, but at the same time casual and very, very confident. A characteristic she thought very typical of him was his voice. It was low and raw, almost a whisper, and he spoke with such an adorable accent and vocabulary that it sufficed to render, in a single trait, the complexity of the cultural discrepancy between the girl and him. The girl wondered how it would feel like to hear private little words being whispered to her with such a voice, how good it would be to feel his warm breath on the back of her neck...
Those thoughts about events which would never happen in this life were shaken away as, taking a sip from his drink, he asked her : "Care for a dance ?" She took his hand and they joined the flow of dancers in the middle of the room. She put her other hand on his bony shoulder while his rested on the small of her back. He asked her how her stay had been, if she was having a good time there. He smiled at someone he knew, and as she turned she caught her mother's gaze and winked at her. With delight, the girl felt both of the man's hands resting on her hips, bringing her closer to his tone body. He smelt good. Their eyes met. His were dark and deep, with very long lashes, warm, hot, shining like an African sun. The love song came to an end and he retrieved his hands, telling the girl he would be back in a minute. She still could feel the warmth of his hands on either of her hips, and went back to her seat. Her parents went off, and when he showed up again, the girl found herself alone with the man.
He offered her a drink and a cigarette, and they talked together. Another thing she liked about him was that he spoke of interesting, serious issues, but without sounding like he was envious of French people and of their -relative- wealth. She sensed he was respectful. Then, they got out and went to see the end of the spectacle, which consisted of quite many short plays. He told the girl that he had to go and see the director for some reason, and that he would call her when he was done, so that they could meet again and have a walk along the beach. She accepted and gave him her room number : "2309." "Means 23-09 ?" "Yeah, that's right." He still had trouble with numbers.
She left him and walked back to her room, shivering. Her parents were already in theirs. But once arrived in front of the door, she stopped dead in her tracks... Her room's number was 2310. *Shit, fucking hell, goddamnit !* She was the dumbest dumbass in the world. Cursing through gritted teeth, she grabbed a jacket and tossed aside her pumps to put flat shoes. Through the corridor she ran, hoping to find the man before he called the wrong room. She kept on running till she was outside, but although she looked for him everywhere, he was nowhere to be found and the place was deserted since the show was over. Only a few waiters and cleaning ladies crossed her path. Disheartened, she got back to her room, hoping that he would eventually find out the right number.
Half an hour later, while she had almost fallen asleep on her bed, the phone rang. She recognized the voice straight away. He whispered that he wanted her to meet him by the pool. Hanging up, she set out.
The man was awaiting her, and in the night his skin and eyes looked even darker. They walked together toward the sea, which they could only hear, its waves lazily moving back and forth on the cold sand. The girl looked on her right and admired the words "God, Nation, King" in Arabic that glistened on the hill. The two of them sat down on a bench facing the invisible sea. He took his hand and kissed it, and squeezed it hard. She could feel butterflies in her stomach as he scooted closer and gave her a hug. Her heart was beating fast as her head was being pulled against his chest. His hands were softly caressing her hair and he kissed her forehead. She looked up to him, allowing him to draw closer as his tentative lips brushed against hers. It was as though he were asking permission, and their tongues finally met. They exchanged a long kiss, which made the girl blush with delight, and as he cupped her face with both hands, he told her everything she had ever wanted to hear. She knew it was not true, she knew it would never last, she knew he did not mean it. But that night was theirs, and on that night he told her : "You are an extraordinary girl. I've never met someone like you before. I love talking with you, I love sharing with you, I swear I'd like you to stay here... You are intelligent, you are agreeable, your presence is just what I need, you are so beautiful. Haven't you noticed how I was looking for you all week long ? Sometimes I couldn't find you and I was so frustrated, because I knew we had so little time to spend together... You know, to me, in my eyes, from the bottom of my heart, you are just perfect. I swear to God I speak the truth. I really mean it, and I don't care if you don't believe me, but this is what I feel."
She was wary of him, as always. She wanted more than anything else to believe him, but it is so hard to give your trust to someone when you have been deceived, betrayed, let down so many times before. Just for this night, she decided, she would give him her trust. That was what that night was for.
By an impulse, a surge, a rush, an instinct, almost animal, he kissed her feverishly, his hands wandering all over her body. He had no right to do that, which made it all the more irresistible, irrepressible, unavoidable. She felt guilty and took his hands away from her. He whispered something in her ear, something that almost made her faint. She felt carried away and sat down on top of him. Having him touching her, stroking her hair, nibbling on her neck felt too good to be true. She could feel the warmth of his body, could taste the sweetness of his lips and she realized that he was burning. He hugged her so tight that she gasped. He wanted her mind, her soul, her eyes, her body, her entire being. He was twenty-four, that is to say old enough to be able to slaughter her innocence... But she would not let him do that, would she ? Respect. He swore he had respect for her. She wanted respect.
They do not know how much time they spent like that, hugging and kissing each other, quenching their thirst for lust and physical contact. Suddenly, she had to go. She was tied by obligations, and she had to severe their fragile young bonds. His sadness was immense; he begged her not to go, but this decision was beyond her judgement. He begged her to let him come to her room, but she would not accept. She was too much afraid, both of him and herself. And she felt empty as she turned away from him, after one last kiss.
[...]
When she arrived in front of the building, she froze. She felt dumb. Hell, she was twenty years old ! At that age, you can do almost everything you want, right ? At that age, you can afford to stop being sensible for a while. Never in her entire life had she yielded to temptations. And then, on the last night she was to spend there, and because she knew that the following days and weeks back home would steal away her happiness, she believed that she had to do at least one crazy thing, to take but one risk in her life. Determined, she ran to the sea. The man was there, on the sand, staring out to the black and infinite horizon, his back to her. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned round to face her. "I knew you would come back", he said with a smile.
Holding hands, she led him to her room. In five hours she would be gone.
