When we arrived at West Seattle Bowl a half hour later, Julian and Spence already had a lane and were bowling away. We were late again, this time due to the combination of our unfamiliarity with West Seattle and an outdated GPS. Of course, I knew being fashionably late was most likely Molly’s intention all along.
If I had been worried about whether or not we’d all be able to pick up where we left off last weekend without too much weirdness, I immediately realized my concerns were totally unwarranted.
“No fair! You had a chance to warm up,” Molly said. I glanced up at the electronic scoreboard. Julian and Spence were in the last frame of a game, both racking up scores I’d never even come close to.
“Take all the time you need, Molly. I’ll just sit back here and enjoy the show,” Spence said slickly, leaning back along the seat and crossing his arms in front of him, a flirtatious smirk on his face.
Molly gladly took the bait and turned around, snagged a lightweight purple ball off the ball return, and did a comical butt wiggle for Spence’s benefit.
I was embarrassed by Molly’s performance, but I shook it off and focused on my own performance. Janna from America may have been horrified by Molly’s desperate flirting, but Janna from Hungary would probably find it silly, characteristically American, and avant-garde. Most likely Janna from Hungary would go with the flow, so that’s what I did.
“So, have you gone bowling since you’ve been in the U.S.?” Julian had just arrived back at our lane with sodas and a big basket of tortilla chips and was setting a bunch of little paper containers of salsas, chili peppers, and nacho cheese dip down on the table.
“Sank you!” I grabbed my Diet Coke and took a sip. “I have bowled, yes.” I had made the decision before we arrived that, where I could, I would try to refrain from lying (other than the big lie, of course). In another ridiculous attempt at rationalization, I figured that if and when I did tell Julian the truth, the more honest I’d been with him about the little things, the less damage would be done.
“Oh, yeah? A bowler, huh?” My answer seemed to stir up a mock competitive spirit in Julian. “I bet you’re a ringer for a group of underground Hungarian bowling hustlers or something, right?” He laughed. “I’m on to you.”
I grinned, instantly put at ease by Julian’s playful attitude.
“Well, let’s get it on, then!” Julian stood up and clapped his hands together as if he were calling a huddle.
Molly and I traded in our fashionable footwear for multicolored, neon bowling shoes. Fortunately, we had planned our outfits in anticipation of this fact, so despite the scuffmarks and mismatched shoelaces, our overall looks still worked. And since both of us absolutely sucked at bowling, looking good was about all we had going for us.
We bowled one game, Julian being the superior bowler of the bunch and Spence a close second (I had a feeling there weren’t many things these guys were bad at). Molly and I pretty much tied for last place, pitifully not even coming close to hitting the triple digits, despite the fact that Molly and I used the gutter guard usually reserved for toddlers and small children.
Despite our poor show at bowling, the date was going fabulously. Julian and I were talking and laughing, and we teased each other between trips to the lane, while Molly and Spence effortlessly picked up where they’d left off last Friday. I had been a little unsure about where Spence stood, since he hadn’t really made any effort to connect with Molly all week, but now they were stealing kisses and playful butt grabs at every opportunity. I was glad about the way things were working out for her—I knew she had pretty high hopes about tonight.
I had just come back from the bathroom when I saw Molly and Spence were putting on their street shoes and standing up to leave.
“Oh, hey, Janna! Spence and I are heading out.”
“What?” Molly had assured me she wouldn’t leave me tonight, but I should have known by her exuberant PDA with Spence that all bets were off. “But where do you go?”
“We’re going to go to a party in Madison Park, I think. Right, Spence?”
“Yeah, I thought we’d stop by for a bit,” Spence said.
Molly was clearly ignoring the look on my face. Otherwise, she would have known I was none too happy about this development. “It will be fine, Janna. Spence and I will take my car and Julian will drive you home. Right, Julian?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Julian turned to me. “We can stay here or we can go do something else … whatever you want to do.”
It seemed as though everyone had already decided what was going to happen. Where was my vote?
“But I sleep at your home tonight, no?” I gave Molly my best confused-foreigner look, praying she’d snap into reality and change her mind.
“It’s okay … we already worked it out. Julian’s gonna bring you by my house later. And of course my mom is home, so even if you get there before I do, she’ll let you in at any hour. If you need anything at all, just call me on my cell!” She already had her purse over her shoulder and one foot practically out the door. It was pretty clear that any protests at this point would be unceremoniously ignored.
Molly turned to Julian. “Promise you will take good care of my little foreign friend, okay?”
“Don’t worry,” Julian said. “She’s in good hands.”
While I knew he was right and, come to think of it, I actually wanted to be in his hands, this double date turned one-on-one wasn’t what I had counted on. So, I asked myself, What would Janna Ika Ilka do? The answer was easy. Janna Ika Ilka would embrace the moment and not look back. Janna Ika Ilka would handle anything that came up with poise and grace and wit. Janna Ika Ilka would be the perfect date.
So, I surrendered to my reality and waved good-bye to Molly. “Have good time! See you later!”
As soon as they were gone, Julian turned to me.
“What do you say we get outta here, too? I’d love to show you some of my favorite spots in the city. Unless, of course, you want to try your luck at another game of bowling?”
Hmmm … let’s see. Continue to heave a ten-pound ball toward a bunch of wooden pins or have a night out on the town with Julian.
“Vere do vee go?” I asked, already unlacing my shoes.
“I don’t know … we could drive up by the market and walk around for a while, see where the night takes us?”
Julian looked at me with an excited smile. Seeing where the night took us sounded just great to me.
“Does it bother you that Molly left you like that?” Julian asked. We had just parked on a cobblestone street near Pike Place, a famous Seattle market known for its fresh flowers and fish-throwing vendors, and were strolling along the sidewalk, our footsteps the only thing breaking the silence. The merchants had long since shut down for the night, and the market was eerily deserted.
“Is okay. Zis not first time,” I said.
“You mean she ditches you a lot? How did you two end up being friends, anyway? You don’t really seem like you have much in common.”
I had figured this question might come up at some point, so I gave Julian my practiced answer about how Molly was one of the first friends I made in Seattle (true), and that she had taken me under her wing from the start (also true.) “Vee veddy different, but Molly is loyal friend. I also have good friend called Emmett. He always, how you say, have my back.”
“Emmett, huh? Just a friend?”
I smiled at what sounded like a tinge of jealousy in his voice. “Yes. Definitely just friend.”
But I wasn’t the only one who had been ditched. I asked Julian what the deal was with Spence. To be honest, some of Spence’s behavior definitely landed him in the “shady guy” category in my eyes, and the fact that he and Julian were such good friends made me wonder. You know, the whole guilt by association thing.
“Remember how I told you that I moved here when I was six? Well, back then I was pretty dorky-looking. I was this skinny little kid with wire-framed glasses, seriously crooked teeth, and really long hair … much longer than it is now. Oh yeah, and I had a lisp. Don’t want to forget that charming little detail. I was exactly the kind of kid who was going to get the crap beat out of him, right? So on my first day of school, a bunch of older kids started messing with me during recess. And then all of a sudden Spence came along and totally saved my butt. Nobody ever messed with me after that. I’m still not exactly sure why he did it, but ever since then Spence has been like a surrogate brother to me. And then, when we were in middle school, his parents went through a really ugly divorce and he practically lived at my house. I guess you could say he’s like family. I mean, I know Spence and I are very different. But he’s still my bud, you know? He’s always, how you say, ‘got my back.’”
Julian’s answer definitely put me at ease, at least as far as his choice of friends went. And I could tell it was important to him that I knew he wasn’t like Spence. On top of that, I loved the image of Julian as a skinny kid with glasses and crooked teeth. Nice to know that even godlike creatures went through awkward phases. Of course, I’m sure that even back then Julian was still adorable.
We strolled along the market in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the unseasonably warm spring air and that wonderful feeling you get when it seems like you’re the only people alive. As we neared the north end of the market, we ran into a small group of people huddled together, listening wide-eyed and alert to a woman telling them a story.
“Oh, this is so cool! Have you ever done the Market Ghost Tour?” asked Julian.
“Ghost Tour?” I wasn’t acting. I had never heard of it.
“Yeah, supposedly Pike Place Market is one of the most haunted places in Seattle. So you can do tours of all the places ghosts have been seen in the market, and hear stories about different hauntings and stuff.”
We stopped to listen to the end of the story about how the ghost of a man who’d died a violent death had been repeatedly captured in photographs on this very spot. Holy heebie-jeebies. Suddenly the abandoned market didn’t seem quite as appealing as it had a minute ago.
Julian must have sensed that I was ever so slightly freaking out. “You okay?”
I laughed uncomfortably. “I okay. But can vee keep valking? Zis is creepy.”
Julian laughed. “Sure. Hey, don’t worry. Remember, I promised Molly you were in good hands with me. And I meant it.” And then Julian grabbed my hand as we walked away. His hand felt big and strong, not to mention a little sweaty. To be holding on to it felt incredibly intimate and a little strange. In all honesty, I hadn’t done a lot of hand-in-hand strolling before, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Was I supposed to return his grip tightly or keep it loose and casual? Should I act like it wasn’t a big deal or acknowledge it with a squeeze or meaningful look? Why hasn’t anyone written a book about how to handle these situations?
Rather than continuing to wonder what to do, I decided that Janna Ika Ilka probably had held hands with boys before, many times. Consequently, tonight’s holding hands should be approached as if it were as natural an event as crossing the street or brushing one’s hair. So, I just relaxed, didn’t overanalyze, and let myself feel safe in Julian’s grasp.
We continued north to Victor Steinbrueck Park, a little patch of grass overlooking Elliot Bay. During the day, the park was bustling with street musicians, vendors, and tourists, but by dusk it was somewhat deserted, with the occasional homeless person or questionable element. My parents had always told me to steer clear, but tonight, holding Julian’s hand, it felt fine. Come to think of it, I had a feeling I’d feel safe with Julian no matter where we were.
“God, this is a gorgeous city. I mean, look at that. Can you beat that view?” Julian asked.
We released hands and leaned against the railing, taking in the sight before us. The moonlight was reflecting off the calm water, and far in the distance the sky was still displaying shades of blue and orange despite the fact that the sun had already dropped below the Olympic Mountains and a dark cloud layer was moving in. We watched as two ferries passed each other in the bay, one heading toward the pier downtown and the other going to Bainbridge Island.
“Yes. Seattle ees beautiful,” I said. “I really love eet here.”
Julian suddenly turned to me with a look of adventure in his eyes. “Let’s go on the ferry.”
“Vat?”
“The ferry to Bainbridge. Let’s go for a ride! It’s only a half hour there and a half hour back, plus it’s only like seven bucks.”
I hesitated. My parents would definitely not be pleased if they knew I was taking the ferry to Bainbridge at night with some guy they’d never even met. What if something went wrong and we got stuck there for the night?
“Have you ever been on the ferry before?” he asked.
“No,” I said without thinking. Why was I lying about this? I’d been on the ferry a ton of times, usually to visit my aunt who lived on the peninsula or to go antiquing in the town of Winslow.
“Then we have to do it. The ferry is one of my most favorite things in Seattle. And I’d love to do my most favorite thing with you.”
Julian turned to me, his eyes full of promise. We stared at each other for a moment, my knees turning to jelly when I realized he might be leaning in for a kiss. Though I was half-relieved when he turned away to look back at the ferry, if I hadn’t been dying to kiss him earlier, I certainly was now.
“Come on. If we hurry, we can get there in time to catch that ferry,” he said, pointing to the incoming ferry approaching the terminal about ten blocks south of us.
Why not? I thought. Janna Ika Ilka sees life as one big adventure, right?
“Let’s go!” I said.
We half walked, half ran, zigzagging our way down Western Avenue, past the Market parking lots and furniture galleries, under the Viaduct, and along the waterfront until we reached Pier 52. We ran up the steep ramp to the ticket booth, and an out-of-breath Julian shoved a twenty under the window.
“You’d better hurry … the ferry’s about to leave,” the woman behind the counter said with a surprising lack of urgency as she slid two tickets toward him.
We grabbed the tickets and scrambled up the walkway, our eyes on the deckhand who was about to cut off our only entry onto the boat.
“Keep it moving; we gotta go,” he said. I’m pretty sure he enjoyed making us sweat it out.
Once we scooted onto the ferry, the deckhand closed the gate behind us, and as Julian led me up the stairs to the top deck, the ferry engines started to rumble. A moment later I realized we were already pulling away from the dock.
“It’s pretty cold up here, but this is where the best views are,” Julian said. He was taking me to the very front of the boat, to the spot where I always stood when I took the ferry, no matter how cold and windy it was. “Will you be all right?”
“Yes, zis ees my favorite place on ferry,” I said. Whoops. Better clarify, just to be safe. “I mean, on any ferry I ride.”
“Cool. Me too.” If Julian noticed my little hiccup, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved to my right, shielding me from the wind as much as possible and tucking me under his arm. We stood there in silence for a while, hypnotized by the small whitecaps churning along the top of the water. I shivered slightly, but only partly from the cold. The other part? The closeness of Julian. Suddenly, I was aware of absolutely everything about his physical being. The weight of his arm, the feel of his long-sleeved shirt along the back of my neck, the hardness of his chest pressed up next to me, the smell of his breath as he turned to look at me.
Wait a minute. He was turning to look at me. He was close. He was …
Kissing me. Oh. My. God. The whipping of the wind, the sound of the engine, the motion of the boat, the feel of the cold … all of it vanished. Hell, we could have been on the International Space Station for as much as I knew. The only thing I could focus on were his incredibly soft lips on mine, thankful that I somehow knew how to respond. I can only figure that Janna Ika Ilka had a lot of experience kissing boys. If she hadn’t been there, I probably would have passed out.
Our kiss was interrupted by the ferry captain announcing our imminent arrival at Bainbridge. (How long had we been kissing, anyway?) We broke free and gave each other a giddy, post-great-kiss smile, turning back to watch the way the captain gently steered the ferry next to the dock.
“I think we can just stay on board, since it doesn’t cost anything to sail back to Seattle,” Julian said.
“No, vee must get off boat first,” I said. “Zen we reboard.”
Damn. Strike two. The captain’s voice came on a second later. “All passengers must disembark at Bainbridge Island. If you are returning to Seattle, please wait to reboard at the top of the ramp.”
Julian looked at me like he’d never seen anyone with ESP before. “How did you know that?”
Yes, how did I know that? I thought fast, something which was becoming a survival strategy these days. “I sink I see sign at terminal in Seattle explain dis.”
“Oh. Well, let’s wait for everyone else to get off before we do. Then we’ll be the first ones back on.”
We waited a few minutes before heading downstairs and stepping off the boat. We stood in the cool, crisp air at the top of the plank until all the cars, bicyclists, and passengers had disembarked. Though there was no chilly wind to contend with anymore, I suddenly found myself shaking with cold, the side effects of standing on deck for the past half hour.
Julian pulled me into a delicious, warm hug. “What do you say? Want to freeze on the deck some more or get the best seats in the house for the ride back and stay warm?”
“No to freeze. Yes to warm and seats,” I said.
“You got it.”
We stood like that until the reboard announcement, and Julian led me to the far end of the boat. We came upon several rows of large, comfortable, vinyl seats facing a huge window looking out at the water. Since we were the first ones aboard, we had our choice, so we snagged two seats in the middle of the front row. We sunk down and got cozy for the ride back, the dim fluorescent lighting making me feel tired and relaxed.
As the ferry started up and began its trip back across the bay, Julian held my hand comfortably while we talked about everything from our respective dysfunctional families to our favorite music. The more Julian talked, the more I realized we had a million things in common. It was downright eerie. Julian was a world traveler. I wanted to be a world traveler (and was one for as much as he knew). Julian was a sugar freak. I was a sugar freak. Julian liked music. I liked music. Okay, I realize that last one wasn’t a huge coincidence. I mean, who doesn’t like music? But here’s the thing—he was into all kinds of really obscure world music, something I had already gathered from the night I’d heard him deejay. And what do you know, I, too, had my own random musical tastes, some of which are international. For instance, we both loved cellist Yo-Yo Ma, and he’s kind of international. What are the chances?
“Tell me something about yourself that I would never guess,” Julian said. “I told you about my, how shall we say, awkward stage in elementary school when I was a lisp-talking, four-eyed freak with bad hair. I want to hear one of your stories.”
As I thought about his question, I looked out the giant window in front of me. We were moving steadily across the bay, and the city, a beacon of tall buildings lit up against the now foggy night sky, was growing larger with each passing minute. I wasn’t quite ready to break into a rousing rendition of “Born in the U.S.A.” and ’fess up, but there was one story I had to tell Julian if he was to really know who I was.
“My mom vas a, how you say, beauty queen ven she was young.”
“You mean she was in beauty pageants?”
I nodded. “Yes. And she vant me to be in pageants, too. Zis is somesing I do not vish to do. But ven I was little girl, she make me do many pageants. I hate zees pageants. Every time I say no to zem, but she keep putting me in. Zen, one pageant I had to do a, I sink za vord is talent, yeah?”
“Yeah, right. A lot of those pageants have talent competitions,” Julian said. I could tell he was intrigued. “So, what was your talent?”
“I supposed to sing and dance,” I said. I couldn’t believe I was actually telling him this story. Every little agonizing detail was still so clear in my mind, it might as well have happened yesterday. My yellow sequined leotard. My sparkly baton. The cheesy prerecorded music that was meant to accompany my rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York.” The way I opened my mouth to sing but nothing came out. The painful prompting from my mom offstage: “Come on Janna … sing!” The uncomfortable laughter that spread through the audience, apparently comprising heartless grown-ups who found paralyzing stage fright in a seven-year-old the height of entertainment.
“‘New York, New York’ in sequins with a baton?” Julian laughed. “I would have freaked out too!”
I was caught off guard by his laughter. Not many people knew this story, and the few who did, like Molly and Emmett, knew what a traumatizing memory it was. As a result, they tended to skirt around any and every discussion having to do with pageants, stages, performance anxiety, and the like. They knew my deepest insecurities, like the one that made me believe I was destined to continually fall flat on my face, were rooted in this one little pageant. Or, as my mom now refers to it, the pageant whose name shall not be spoken.
Julian must have noticed the pain in my eyes and realized as soon as he’d laughed that I didn’t actually find it funny.
“Hey, I’m sorry, Janna. I didn’t mean to laugh. I didn’t realize it still upset you so much. Forgive me?”
I suddenly realized how ridiculous I must have seemed, making such a big deal out of something that had happened such a long time ago. I looked at Julian and immediately knew he wasn’t trying to make me feel bad. So I decided I was okay with the fact that he found humor in my story. In fact, I didn’t even feel offended.
“I sink zis is why I so shy and cautious.” As soon as I said it, it struck me that I was describing a person Julian didn’t actually know.
“You? I’m sorry, but did you or did you not do karaoke with me last week? I’d say whatever stage fright problems you’ve had in the past are no longer an issue, wouldn’t you?”
Could Julian be right about me? I had noticed that when I was being Janna Ika Ilka, I seemed to have a different way of looking at the world. But I was pretty sure the real me was still in there somewhere, lugging around all that unattractive baggage.
“And anyway, I wouldn’t exactly call moving halfway around the world to be an exchange student a cautious move. In fact, I think it’s pretty ballsy.”
I shrugged my shoulders in agreement. I didn’t feel like protesting, especially since he obviously saw me as someone I wasn’t. No need to disappoint him tonight. Tonight, I just wanted to relish in Julian, relish in us. We both turned back toward the window again, and I leaned my head against his shoulder as he lightly caressed my hand. The last minutes of the boat ride passed by all too quickly. I was tired—exhausted, really—but I didn’t want the night to end. Everything about it was so perfect, so magical.
We got off the ferry and started making our way back up to where the car was parked. With no ferry to catch, we slowed down our pace and held hands, peeking in store windows and talking about all the things we wanted to do together before I left Seattle. Despite the fact that I wasn’t actually going anywhere, I almost felt a longing for the city, the need to experience adventures with Julian here before it was too late.
We were about halfway back to the car when the clouds we’d seen earlier made true on their promise and the rain started coming down.
“Here, come with me,” Julian said. He pulled me over toward a corner deli and opened the door.
“Vat are vee doing?”
“It’s raining out. I don’t want you to get soaked.”
“Oh, zee rain? No, no, it ees fine.” But it was too late. Julian had already spotted the umbrellas and was pulling out his wallet.
A minute later we walked out of the deli and Julian opened up the umbrella. We huddled under it together, the perfect excuse to get close.
“But I sot people from Seattle no use umbrellas?” I asked him.
“Well, you’re not from Seattle. And I certainly can’t expect you to get all wet since I’m the one who dragged you down here in the first place.”
I looked down and smiled. We walked for a while in silence, watching our feet take steps in unison, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the sidewalks. I started longing for the night we’d just spent together all over again. Typical me—missing something before it was even gone.
We made it back to the car and headed over to Molly’s, arriving there fifteen minutes later. We pulled in the driveway and Julian turned off the ignition, unstrapped his seat belt, and turned to face me.
“I had an amazing time, Janna. Really. I think that was maybe the best time I’ve ever had going out with a girl.” Damn. Did he know what he did to me when he looked at me with those gorgeous eyes?
“Me too.” Coming from me, that probably didn’t mean much, since I’d only been on, like, three dates. But he didn’t need to know that.
“Listen. I know you’re going back to Hungary soon. But I want to hang out with you as much as I can before that,” he said. “I also wanted to talk to you about my prom.”
My heart raced. Was he going to ask me to prom?
“I wish I could ask you to be my date, but I’m working the prom as the deejay. I agreed to do it before I met you. I just wanted you to know that I’m not not asking you because I don’t want you there. I was hoping we could meet up for the after party when I’m off duty.”
“Zat sounds great.”
Julian leaned in and put his hand under my chin to lift my face toward his, giving me one final fireworks-worthy kiss for the night.
“Sank you for tonight. I have wonderful time,” I said after the kiss, my face in an obvious state of perma-grin. I got out of the car and started up the walkway to Molly’s house. I turned around one last time as Julian rolled down his window.
“Viszlát!” Julian said.
I laughed and waved. I wasn’t the only one doing my homework. As Julian pulled away, I ran around back and quietly turned the handle of Molly’s door, trying to rein in my joy and excitement so I didn’t scream and wake everyone up the second I walked in the house. I couldn’t wait to tell Molly about everything: the kisses, the ferry, the prom after party. Who could have known when I walked into her bedroom a minute later that I wouldn’t be getting the welcome home party I’d been expecting?