Seeking Her (Losing It #3.5)(11)
Author: Cora Carmack

Inside the station, the atmosphere was much less tense. It was still fairly busy, with a few shops and fast-­food restaurants still open for business.

I took a risk standing behind her in line, but I needed to know where she was going, and this was my best shot. She had a Eurail pass, as did I, which covered travel to most places in Europe. But if she was at the ticket counter that meant wherever we were going wasn’t covered.

I was fairly certain she wouldn’t recognize me from the night before. I didn’t think she’d ever really looked at me, but I kept my baseball cap pulled low over my eyes just in case. She stepped up to the ticket counter, her Eurail pass and passport in hand.

I tried to listen for a clue to where she was going, but the attendant’s voice was muffled by the glass, and with her back to me, I couldn’t understand what Kelsey was saying either. I fidgeted, tapping my passport against my palm, trying to decide the best way to handle this. I could always wait and see what platform she went to, and then come back and buy my ticket based on that. But I didn’t know how early she had arrived and didn’t want to risk missing the train. The attendant next to Kelsey finished with her customer and beckoned me forward.

I hesitated. Standing next to Kelsey was riskier than standing behind her. And what if she’d already said her destination and I couldn’t figure it out?

The attendant called out to me.

Panicked, I turned to the person behind me and said, “Go ahead. I need to, uh . . .” I held up my phone as an explanation.

I don’t think the person behind me spoke English, but when I gestured for him to pass me again, he did.

Kelsey handed over some cash to the attendant, and he handed her a ticket in exchange. After retrieving her change, she nodded and then walked away. Her attendant waved me forward, and I hesitated for just a moment, making sure Kelsey was out of hearing range.

“Same as my friend in front of me,” I said.

“Excuse me?” the man asked, his accent thick.

“I’m with the girl you just helped.”

“Ah,” the man nodded. I just hoped he didn’t look behind me to see that Kelsey was long gone because that would certainly make him suspicious. “As I told her, there are no more sleepers for this train, only regular seats.”

“That’s fine.”

“I also can’t get you beside her. The nearest seat is a few rows back.”

“That’s great,” I said a little too quickly. I hadn’t thought about what would have happened if he’d sat me right beside her. But for once, the universe seemed on my side.

“All the way to Belgrade, yes?”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” Where was Belgrade again? Serbia?

Just for once, it would be great if Kelsey would choose a country that I knew at least a little bit about.

I handed over a credit card in exchange for the tickets.

It looked like we’d be changing trains twice, both times in Bulgaria before heading into Serbia.

At least tonight would be a change of routine from our regular nighttime adventures.

MY BREAK FROM the clubs, however, was short-­lived. As a city, Belgrade wasn’t the most visually attractive place we’d been to so far. Most of the buildings were boxy and gray. But as it turned out, Belgrade was like the Eastern European epicenter of clubbing or something. That’s where the city really hit its stride.

Unfortunate for me.

The first night we hit a place near Kelsey’s hostel (this time, I went back to my original method of staying nearby). It wasn’t dissimilar from the places Kelsey had visited so far, but everything about the place was louder—­the music, the neon, the outfits. It was like the dial had been turned up on everything.

Including the women. I had never seen so many beautiful women in my life. Most of them were almost as tall as me (especially considering that nearly all were wearing heels). They had long dark hair, tanned skin, and a penchant for revealing clothing. I wasn’t sure if that was just because of the summer heat or the style. Either way, I wasn’t complaining. And when Kelsey started dressing to match, she definitely got her fair share of attention.

Her pale head stood out in the sea of dark skin and hair, and I watched men’s eyes follow her everywhere we went.

The men . . . well, they made it pretty easy for me to blend in. I’d say more than half of them had buzz cuts like mine. I fit in so easily that ­people were shocked when they realized I was American.

On our second day in Belgrade, I spent the afternoon hoping Kelsey would find something else to do that night.

I’d hit my one-­year mark and adopted a Serbian dinar as a replacement for the chip I would have gotten if I were back home. If there was ever a night that I deserved to have free of temptation, this was it. I’d thought reaching this milestone would make things easier. I could only liken it to climbing a cliff just to stand at the top and discover another one stretching up in front of you.

Was this what every year would feel like? Was this what the rest of my life would feel like? One goddamn cliff after another?

I wanted to do absolutely nothing. I wanted to hide out in my hotel room, in the dark, and maybe break a few things. But when Kelsey stepped out of her hostel that night in a glittering black strapless dress, I knew I wasn’t going to get my wish. I pulled on some leather shoes and a button-­up shirt. That was about as dressed-­up as I was willing to get at the moment.

We bypassed the clubs near the hostel and headed for the river. I stayed a few blocks back, far enough that, if Kelsey turned around and looked, she wouldn’t be able to make out much except the fact that I was a man. I kept my hand on my phone in case she turned and I lost track of her (which I did, twice).

When I found her the second time, I very nearly blew my cover. I was about to round a corner when I heard her voice. I stopped short, then edged closer and peered around a building to see her pacing along the sidewalk, talking on the phone.

When she turned her back to me, I slipped out onto the sidewalk and stood next to a bus stop. I could see her when she faced my direction, but the stop hid me decently well.

She said, “Things are fantastic, Bliss. I can’t even tell you how much fun I’m having.”

Her voice was enthusiastic, but there was a longing on her face that bordered on sadness as she spoke.

“Belgrade,” she said after a pause. “No, honey. It’s in Serbia. I’ll get to London, eventually. Why? Do you want me to bring home a British boyfriend like yours so we can have accent-­filled double dates?”