I stuff the last bra into my duffel bag and zip it closed. I grab my phone and rush down the stairs. Dad stands by the door, ready to drive me to the airport. In a week, I have a free flight to Amsterdam, where I have a hotel room to stay in.
Dad takes the left out of the driveway, and we pass Martijn's house. Suddenly I remember that he lives right next door. In the past week, I was so caught up in my preparations and packing that I forgot all about him.
What would he think about me going to visit his record label? I remember his cocky comments about how I was just a wannabe. Not anymore.
My dad drives so slow I'm afraid I'm gonna miss my flight. I check my phone. It's 4:27 in the morning but I don't even feel the time. I'm so alert, full of adrenaline.
When we finally reach the airport, I grab my bags and rush through security like I'm on autopilot, haha. I finally take a seat at the gate. They can't board the plane fast enough.
Finally, my section is called and I get in line, and soon, I'm in my seat on the plane. I reply to a last text in my friends' group message, and as I return to the main screen of my texts, I see Martijn's name at the bottom of the screen.
My thumb hovers over his name. I want to text him. But what would I say? "Hey, your record label wants me more than they want you?" No way. For the first time, I get a funny feeling about this trip.
At 6:14 A.M., my plane takes off. I don't even know what time I land, but it's late. I walk along the street to my hotel, check in, and crash on my bed.
*******
I wake up and blink sleepily at the clock across the room. 1:00 in the afternoon. Stupid jet lag. Good thing I have a day to get used to it. My meeting is tomorrow at 11:30 A.M.
I step out onto the balcony and gasp at the beautiful view. I'm right on the water. It's right below me, and boats cruise leisurely up and down, like a street, but so much more gorgeous. The water glistens as small waves roll and slide down the canal. Trees lining the canal and bridges blossom with shiny green leaves and bright, colorful flowers. This is so incredible.
I decide to take a walk to explore a little, and pull on denim shorts and a purple v neck t shirt. I hold my wallet and phone in my hand because I heard pickpockets prey on tourists sometimes.
I pull my hotel room door closed and try to turn the handle to make sure it's firmly locked. I tuck my room key in my wallet and leave the building. My room faced one canal, and on the side of the building, a red brick walkway ran alongside another waterway. I look both ways to decide which way to go, and spot a street market down to my right.
The bright colors attract me immediately, and I begin making my way towards them. As I get closer, I can see the items littered among the stalls more clearly. There's delicious looking food and handmade things, clothing, and trinkets for children.
I check out some of the little toys, wondering if my little sisters would like something like these, but the trinkets look too young for them.
The various food carts smell like heaven. I stop and take in the scene around me. I can hear people speaking Dutch around me, and I wish my school offered Dutch. All I have under my belt is five school years of Spanish classes.
I can hear some words that are similar to English, and I laugh to myself at how they sound.
Suddenly my arm jerks and my hand is empty. I look down and my phone and wallet are gone. A man is running the opposite way, dodging stalls and vendors. I see a flash of blue from my phone case in his hand. "Hey!" I yell, and start to run after the man. My speed is almost no match to his, and I can barely keep up.
"Hey!" I yell again, "Stop that guy!" The people around me barely bother to look up from their purchases to see what the commotion is about. I'm getting further into the market, and starting to lose sight of the man among the colors of the stalls. I'm also starting to run out of breath.
I see the man jerked over to the side of the road made narrow by the stalls. I use my last bit of energy to catch up to the figure standing over the man. He'd tackled the guy who'd stolen my stuff.
The man turns around, and I look into the bluest eyes I've ever seen. He says something to me in Dutch, and I nearly don't hear the words that sound like "mobile telephone" because I'm so lost in his eyes, like deep, crystal clear pools of water.
I stammer, "Wh-what? Sorry, I don't speak Dutch. I'm just a tourist." He looks to be only a few years older than me, I realize, when a youthful smile spreads over his face that shows his true age.
"Oh, you're American? I thought you were Dutch because you had the balls to walk around a market by yourself." I blink and crinkle my eyebrows, taken aback by his blunt comment, but appreciating his honesty all the same, especially after dealing with a bunch of boys who just lied and lied.
"What do you mean?" I ask, with a small laugh. "Well, unless you have a boyfriend or something that didn't bother to chase him down for you to get these back?" He grins again and winks, holding out my wallet and phone. I take them gratefully from his hands, still caught off guard by his comments.
His thick Dutch accent makes all the English words he speaks sound so soft and relaxed, and I find myself wanting to hear him speak more.
"I-I don't," I mutter, reluctant to tell him I'm alone and expose my vulnerability. So thank you very much for getting these back for me..." I trail off, suggesting that I want him to tell me his name.
"I'm Bastian," he says, and reaches out to shake my hand. I shift my things to my left hand and shake his with my right. His hand is so soft but I can feel his strength. I almost feel bad for the man who stole my stuff from me.
"What's your name, America?" I laugh, but it comes out as a girly giggle. "Is that my nickname now?" He grins at my reaction, and I blush a little. "It is now that you suggested that. Come on America, where are you heading to?"
"I don't know, I was just checking out the market, I guess, seeing the sights." Bastian laughs. "Why are you by yourself?" I open my mouth to tell him before realizing he'd probably just give me another one of those precious laughs. And as much as I wanted to hear another one, I wanted to be taken seriously.
"I have a job interview tomorrow, so today I'm just seeing the sights." Still basically the truth, just... not specific.
"Hmm," Bastian nods, and I think he knows better than to pry into the life of someone he just met. "Can I show you around then? It is much safer if you have someone with you," he says, then continues with a smile in his tone, "Especially someone strong and intimidating like me."
I smile to myself, looking straight ahead, and he gives me a side glance, tilting his head a fraction to try to see my reaction. I try to ignore the butterflies that fly down into my stomach, but I'm enjoying his attention, and for some reason, I'm not bothered by the fact that he's a total stranger.
Bastian and I stroll down the stone brick streets, and I take in the beautiful sights. This is the most gorgeous city I've ever seen. I can't believe I'm here. Tomorrow my future might change forever.
The buildings are lovely pastel colors, and the water of the canals that we walk along reflects and shimmers on the bricks and windows. It's still early enough in the morning that everything looks fresh and clean and bright.
My thoughts are interrupted by Bastian grabbing my hand and leading me close to the water, where a boat sat waiting, gently tapping against the sides of the canal as the waves lapped against it. "Come on, America! Have you been on the canals yet?" He leaps into the boat and held out a hand to me.
I grin and take his hand, stepping carefully into the boat, but my foot catches on a brick that sticks up more than the others, and I begain to fall forward. Before I can hit the deck of the boat, I feel Bastian's firm hands on my waist, catching me and lowering my feet to the deck.
Even after I regain my balance, his hands remain on my waist. I blush from my mistake and from our closeness. "Thanks, sorry I'm so clumsy." He smiles kindly down at me. "No worries, America."
I feel butterflies again, this time from how he's holding me. After all, we've just met. I gently remove his hands from my waist and sit next to the driver's seat. Bastian unties the boat from the cleats attached to the street, pulls a key from his pocket and starts the boat, pulling away smoothly. I can tell he'd done this for a long time.
"So do you do this for every tourist you meet here? There's got to be a lot of them," I say jokingly. Bastian grins and winks at me. "Oh no. Only the cute ones, America." I smile politely, but felt increasingly more uncomfortable at his words. Oh, come on. He's just joking around like you were.
I push the feeling away and manage to enjoy the boat ride, taking in the beautiful city around me. Larger boats with covers on them passed us, and I can see dozens of people inside them. I smile at Bastian. "This is a lot better than being crammed in a boat with a bunch of other strangers. Thanks for doing this for me."
He gives me the same grin, nodding at my thanks. "It's no problem! I'm glad you're having a good time. I know I am."
I blush a little again under his intense gaze.
*******
"When am I going to see you again?" I look up into Bastian's beautiful blue eyes, now dark blue because of the lack of light in the corridor. We spent the entire day together, him showing me around the city, and now he was dropping me back off outside my hotel room.
"I don't know... I'm not here for very long." Bastian frowns, and his brow furrows. "But what if you get the job?"
I look confused for a moment before remembering that I told him that I was here for an interview. "Oh.. um, well, I don't really know if I'll get it. It's a really big maybe."
Bastian raises one eyebrow and places a hand on my waist. I glance down at it. "You came all the way from America to Amsterdam on a "really big maybe"?" I'm sure the stunned look on my face is giving me away until he continues, "I think you're just being modest, America."
"Oh, no, I really, I don't know, it's just -" I'm cut off when he tightens his grip on my waist to pull me so his mouth covers mine.
*******
So what do we think of Bastian? Hopefully he'll be out of Martijn's way soon, right?
Thanks so much for all your support on these chapters, updates are probably going to slow down now because school is taking over my life :'))
As always, thanks so much for reading and for supporting with votes and comments!
-Remy