|05| - "You're a breath of fresh air." -
"I've got exciting news," Jasmine said as she burst through the flat door one Saturday afternoon in late October.
"Excite me," I replied, raising my eyebrows in apprehension, wary that Jasmine's idea of excitement could differ greatly from my own.
"I've met more British people!" She grinned, clasping her hands together. "At last, our army of two can become an army of six."
"You met four more people?" I asked in mild surprise, shortly before realising that this shouldn't come as a surprise at all. Jasmine's confidence knew no limits and it wouldn't have shocked me if she'd heard the familiar language and marched right over to introduce herself.
She began to unfasten her coat, her fingers moving deftly over the buttons before she shrugged it off then draped it over the arm of the sofa.
"Well, three technically," she said. "But they know this other English girl, apparently, so..."
"Did they seem nice?"
"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, with a shrug. "They seemed keen to meet up and stuff."
One thing Jasmine and I had noticed during our Erasmus placement was the way in which all the different nationalities seemed to stick together. To a certain extent it was understandable—you were in a foreign country and would naturally gravitate towards people you could easily communicate with and relate to. The irony wasn't lost on me, though. While Jasmine wasn't here to learn Italian, most people would be and yet we went out of our way to avoid it.
"They're going for drinks tonight," Jasmine then said. "D'you fancy it?"
"Sure," I said, even though the thought of meeting four new people, alongside my super-confident friend, made me a little nervous. "Sounds good."
Jasmine beamed. Even though I'd always surrounded myself with friends, I wasn't the type who went out actively searching for new people to hang around with; having a small circle of close friends was much more appealing than having a large group of distant friends. Jasmine, on the other hand, thrived off social interaction. She'd already made me feel comfortable around her and I had no doubt that she'd have that same effect on other people, too. There was just something about her that made you feel special and I really wished I could elicit the same impression that she always did, her presence remaining with you in the room even hours after she'd left.
"Great," she said, her voice laced with enthusiasm. "Just wasn't sure if you'd have Skype plans, that's all."
"Nah, Nathan and I Skyped earlier while you were out."
"Made any progress on the bucket list?"
A few seconds passed before I realised what she was truly asking. Her face was serious but her eyes were twinkling with interest. Smiling, I shook my head.
"No," I admitted, disappointing her. "He was actually telling me about his Christmas party."
"Christmas party?"
Glancing briefly over her shoulder to check she wasn't about to sit on anything, she took a seat on the sofa, immediately sinking into the cushions and crossing one leg over the other.
"Yeah, for work," I said. "It's in early December. It's like a bar crawl type thing."
She frowned slightly. "A bar crawl? That doesn't sound like a professional Christmas party."
I shrugged. "I think it's just his team, not the whole company."
"How do you feel about it?"
"I think it's great. He spends every day in a professional environment; it'll be nice for him to hang out with work colleagues in a more relaxed place."
"I used to have a friend who would freak out every time her boyfriend went on a night out," Jasmine said, shaking her head as she recalled the memories. "You're a breath of fresh air."
"I trust him," I said with a shrug of one shoulder. "And, even though I'm the one living in a foreign country, I still worry that he gets lonely, especially since his family don't live in England so... I don't know... it'll be the first time he'll have ever gone on a night out without me but I'm not gonna stop him. I want him to go out and have fun."
She smiled. "You're a good girlfriend."
I laughed. "I don't think that's being a good girlfriend. I think it's being a reasonable girlfriend."
"Well, you'd be surprised how many girls don't like their boyfriends going on nights out. That's why you're a breath of fresh air."
Maybe it was the nature of our relationship and how we got together, but I had no reason not to trust Nathan. Over the years, we'd had our ups and downs, with both of us getting into questionable situations—but one thing had remained the same: our loyalty towards one another. I wasn't going to disregard all of that on the basis that Nathan could potentially bump into a girl who might hit on him. It probably happened every day for all I knew...
"So, where are we meeting these people?" I asked Jasmine, keen to take my mind off thoughts of Nathan with other women.
"Dunno," she said, her fingers sliding frantically over her phone screen as she tapped away at a message. "Apparently it's tucked away in a street just off the square, and they do glasses of prosecco for fifty cents and half litres for two euros. I think it could become a regular of ours."
True to our plans, Jasmine and I left our flat at just gone eight, meandering down the high-walled streets, through the archways and past the socialising groups of Italian citizens who stood in circles with their drinks and cigarettes.
We paused once to draw out money from a bancomat and once more when Jasmine caught sight of a pair of shoes in a shop window that she claimed would change her life. After checking the opening times so she could return another day, we continued on our way, heading down a narrow street that was much quieter than the rest.
"That's them," Jasmine said, grasping my wrist and pulling me to a halt. She jerked her head in the direction of a nearby bar where two guys and one girl sat around a table, a jug of prosecco already present in the centre.
"I thought you said there were four of them?"
She shrugged. "That's what they told me. Come on, let's go."
Blindly following her into the unknown, I allowed myself a quick assessment of the group before they'd noticed us, to save the embarrassment of getting caught doing it later on. Jasmine hadn't mentioned if they'd known each other, but the petite blonde girl was giggling away with an equally petite dark-haired boy, while their companion sat in silence.
"Hey!" Jasmine said, her voice high and cheerful.
She strutted over with a confidence that would intimidate even the boldest of people while I trailed behind, waiting to be introduced. Meeting people for the first time was always awkward; do you hug, shake hands or do nothing? I settled on nothing, simply smiling as Jasmine introduced me to Abbie, Ant and Sean.
"How's the prosecco?" Jasmine asked as we sat down.
"For two euros? Can't go wrong," Ant replied.
"Ant's a stingy bastard," Abbie said to me, her Glaswegian accent thick. "I've only known him a month and he's already tried to hustle me three times."
"Maybe you should ask yourself why you keep falling for it." Ant's lips curled upwards, his eyebrows wiggling mischievously. "It's a good job I'm a decent guy or your naivety would be costing you hundreds by now."
She scoffed. "Hundreds? Please. It was a few cents at most."
He shrugged. "Like I said, I'm a decent guy."
I watched the exchange with intrigue, noticing how these two had obviously already clicked despite not knowing each other long. Just like Jasmine and me, their time together had allowed a bond to form and quite a strong one, too, considering their playful antagonism.
"Wasn't there supposed to be someone else meeting us?" I asked.
"Yeah. Meg," Ant said, as his fingers looped around the narrow stem of his prosecco glass. "She's always late. Fucking useless, that one."
Abbie scowled. "Don't be mean."
"I'm not the mean one," he insisted, his eyebrows shooting up. "I don't know why we're still hanging around with her."
"Because it's a foreign country and she's here alone so we need to offer her support," Abbie said under her breath, her eyes scanning the streets in case Meg were to walk up and overhear Ant's callous words.
"If she was desperate for friendship then she'd try a little harder," Ant said. "She wouldn't call you a ditzy airhead and then make casual racist remarks towards Sean."
Sean had been sitting in silence up until that point, simply absorbing the conversation much like I was, but he rolled his eyes at Ant's most recent comment.
"It wasn't racist," he said. "It was just a classic example of someone not knowing how to act or what to say for fear of people assuming they're racist, just because they're talking to someone who happens to be black."
"But that's kind of the point," Ant replied. "There's no need to act any differently."
Sean shrugged. "Anyway, it's like Abbie said, being in a foreign country is unsettling so she's probably just shy and comes across as rude instead."
Less than ten minutes later, we encountered the girl in question. Abbie, who'd been on full alert ever since the risky conversation had begun, noticed her first and warned everyone—though I suspect it was aimed predominantly at Ant—to refrain from saying anything else negative, despite the fact that our conversation regarding Meg had finished a while back.
From the way that her eyes flickered over Jasmine and me as she pulled up a chair, it was obvious that Meg had clocked us, yet she didn't introduce herself. Not that it mattered, since Jasmine was quick to step up to the mark.
"You must be Meg," she said, extending her hand across the table. "I'm Jasmine."
Meg stared at her hand for a few moments, seeming perplexed by this gesture. Just as it was about to get awkward, Jasmine eliminated all chances of an uncomfortable atmosphere.
"Are you more the kissing type?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "Because I'm happy to come round there if so."
While her tone lightened the mood, I could just about make out the thinly-veiled threat. Jasmine wasn't actually threatening to kiss Meg, but she was warning her that by ignoring her gesture, she was making both of them look a fool.
Eventually, Meg shook her hand, mumbling something along the lines of nice to meet you, before casting her eyes towards me again.
"Izzy," I said, not bothering to offer my own hand after what I'd just witnessed. It remained attached to my prosecco glass, becoming damp from the condensation forming around the base.
"Can I pour you a drink?" Jasmine offered, reaching for the carafe that sat in the centre of the table.
"I can pour it myself, thanks," Meg muttered, her hand shooting out towards the jug, causing Jasmine to rapidly withdraw her fingers.
That was perhaps the moment that Jasmine stopped making so much of an effort. She was great at hiding her emotions and not showing that anything bothered her, but three rejections was too much even for her.
"I'm not a huge fan of drinking," Meg said, only filling her glass half-way. "I like to stay in control."
Jasmine shrugged, silently conveying that this was fair enough, although the glasses were so small that I couldn't help wondering why Meg was even bothering. Was she worried we'd judge her for not drinking?
"Would you prefer a soft drink?" I asked, in the hope that this would reassure her that alcohol consumption wasn't compulsory.
"No," Meg said, her tone clipped as she tucked a strand of chocolate-coloured hair behind her ear. "I'm fine with alcohol, I just don't see the point in drinking 'til oblivion and making a fool out of myself."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jasmine pinch her lips together in a rare display of self-restraint. She was dying to say something, I could tell.
Abbie forced out a gentle laugh, attempting to alleviate some of the forming tension. Whether Meg had meant it in that way or not, her comment came across as an insult to all of us who were enjoying the alcohol. I wasn't going to bother pointing out that you could enjoy alcohol without getting hideously drunk, not least because I wasn't a confrontational person and didn't want to start any wars; it felt like we were already tip-toeing through a minefield.
To move on from the forming tension, we all began to exchange experiences, discussing things we'd done and sights we'd seen so far in Bologna. Most of Ant's recommendations consisted of bars and cafes, but Sean mentioned that he'd been for a walk to a church on the top of a hill that offered amazing views over the city; it was a long walk, he said, not for the faint-hearted—but Jasmine jumped at anything that resembled a challenge.
"Sounds great," she said, her eyes alight with excitement. She reached across and touched my shoulder to ensure she had my attention. "Izzy, we can put together a picnic and take it with us."
The conversation drew the attention away from the earlier awkwardness, but it came back full-force when a quiet Meg spoke up for the first time in over ten minutes.
"Mind if I smoke?" she asked, pulling out a cigarette packet from her bag and dropping it onto the iron table-top. The fact she was already reaching into her pocket for the lighter suggested that she didn't anticipate anyone objecting, but Jasmine was full of surprises.
"Yes."
Meg's eyes flickered up, landing on Jasmine's cool face where a few strands of red hair were flapping against her cheekbones in the light wind.
"Sorry?" Meg asked, her fingers clutching the lighter in mid-air.
"You asked if anyone minded," Jasmine said. "And I do. I'd prefer it if you didn't smoke. But thanks for checking. People don't usually do that." She smiled, her face mimicking the perfect angel.
Uncertainty was evident on Meg's face as she tried to decipher whether Jasmine was joking or not.
"Yeah," Meg said, drawing out the word to demonstrate her hesitation or disapproval, "people don't usually say they mind, either."
Jasmine shrugged. "Guess it's a first for both of us, then."
Not wanting to argue—especially as she had no ground to do so since she'd asked permission—Meg stood up, pushing her chair backwards away from the table and causing Ant to wince as the iron made an unpleasant scraping sound against the stone pavement.
"I'll go elsewhere, then," she said. "I wouldn't want to upset anyone."
As she stalked away, Jasmine's neutral expression didn't falter. Ant, on the other hand, didn't know whether to look worried or amused.
"I think you've ruffled a few feathers," he said.
Jasmine cocked her head to the side as she looked at him, feigning ignorance, though I knew she was brighter than that.
"Have I? She asked a question, I gave her an answer."
"Yeah, I think she meant it as a rhetorical question," he replied.
Jasmine shrugged. "Well, it shouldn't be. She asked if anyone minded, and I did mind so I said so. If she didn't actually care if people minded, then she shouldn't bother pretending like she does."
Further down the street, Meg leaned against a road sign, blowing leisurely puffs of smoke into the night air. Despite Jasmine's perfectly valid point, I did feel sorry for her. Two random girls come and crash her friendship group, and she gets ousted just because she wants a cigarette.
"So, Sean," Jasmine then said, topping up her prosecco glass.
She stayed silent as she did so, concentrating on transferring the fizzy liquid from the jug to the flute without spilling any, while Sean looked on at her anxiously, no doubt wondering what she was going to say.
"What are you out here studying?" she asked eventually, putting him out of his misery.
"Um, maths," he said, glancing down at the table, unable to hold her daunting gaze.
"Cool!" Jasmine replied, as if this genuinely was the coolest thing she'd ever heard. "That's the thing about maths, I guess. It's a universal language in itself."
"Yeah, exactly." His eyes flickered up to meet hers again and he offered her a shy smile.
She continued to engage him in conversation, slowly bringing him out of his comfort zone but never quite managing to make him totally at ease. In a way, he reminded me of myself; I could tell he was trying to give her in depth answers to her questions in order to appear talkative and interesting, but his clear shyness was unmistakeable. Nathan had done a great job of improving my confidence and making me believe in myself, but I'd never be an extrovert like him.
Having the cigarette appeared to have made Meg mellow a tad, something about her not appearing quite so frosty as previously. At one point, she even topped up her prosecco glass—only halfway again, of course—but while she remained mostly silent, she did have the odd input to a conversation every now and again, this time without any hostility towards the other members of the table.
When Jasmine and I left, a couple of hours later, she was positively buzzing with energy. People were definitely her form of caffeine, transforming her into an even brighter version of herself that caught several pairs of eyes as we walked back to our flat.
"Sean seems like such a nice guy," Jasmine said.
"Got your eye on him?" I asked, glancing sideways to shoot her a smile.
She smiled back but shook her head. "He's really hot, but I don't want to screw things up before we've even properly got to know these people. It might make things awkward."
"More awkward than Meg?" I asked, shuddering as I remembered how uncomfortable those first few minutes had been.
Jasmine shrugged. "I think she's just shy, or she gets anxious in social situations. She was much more chilled after that fag, don't you think?"
"Yeah, it could just be defensiveness, I suppose."
"Anyway, I'm sure she'll relax as we all hang out more and she realises that we're actually super nice people," Jasmine said, grinning at me.
We quickened our pace, keen to get out of the chilly air, while I let my mind run over the evening's events. Given what had happened, we were probably an unlikely group of friends, and yet something as simple as sharing a nationality was going to bring us together.
Knowing that other people were going through the same thing as you was a comforting thought, especially since Jasmine took everything in her stride and rarely showed any signs of unease. I suppose we were all in the same boat, really; just some of us were better at sailing than others—or at least they successfully convinced us they were.
Tomorrow would mark the beginning of my one-week countdown to seeing Nathan, this time as I travelled back to England to visit him. I was feeling unusually bubbly as I crawled into bed—something which wasn't completely brought on by the consumption of cheap prosecco.
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Thank you for reading :) xx