Page 21 of Past Due

“It’s a strange place, isn’t it? Like, not to sound silly,” I said with a sheepish smile, “but it’s almost magical in some ways.”

“I can see that.”

“I want to go home and tell everyone about how beautiful it is here and how nice the people are, but I also want to keep it a secret,” I admitted. “I look around, and I cringe thinking of tourists overrunning the place, you know?”

“I know what you mean, but,” Andres sighed, “eventually, some big influencer will come here and blow-up Instagram. Next thing you know, there will be hundreds of wannabes trampling the trails and acting like entitled shits to all the nice people we’ve met.”

I grimaced. “Ugh. I hate how easy that is to imagine.”

When we reached his hotel, Andres carried my phone up to his room to charge, and I took a seat at the table his traveling party had taken. There were two other groups with a mix of people in our age range all crammed in together. Soon, I had a bottle of Korça in hand and tried to keep up with the conversations swirling around me in English, Spanish, French and other languages I couldn’t place. Andres returned but didn’t squeeze in beside me as I had expected. He sat across from me and winked before grabbing his drink.

“Your hair is so incredible.” Eloise, a French woman who seemed very interested in Andres’ friend Miguel, boldly ran her fingers down the length of my ponytail. “Is it natural? Or do you pump it up a little dye?”

“All natural. I tried to darken it, go brunette, when I was fourteen, and I hated it so much I swore I’d never touch hair dye again.”

“Why would you want to go from this gorgeous red and gold to brunette?” Eloise seemed scandalized.

“I wanted to fit in,” I confessed. “Like every teenage girl does, I guess.”

“That I understand,” she said, touching her blonde hair. “I went through a mermaid phase when I was a teenager. The green looked great at first, but after a couple of washes, it turned gray and sad.” She leaned her chin on her hand. “So, what do you do?”

“I’m a grad student. Anthropology,” I added. “You?”

“I work in finance. Mostly Brussels, but sometimes Singapore and Hong Kong.”

“Okay. I want to hear more about that! I feel like my next big trip should be Asia.”

Eloise and some of the others near us started to fill me in on all the must-see spots in Asia. One beer turned into two and then someone brought a bottle of rakia to the table. The first sip of the strong fruit brandy knocked me right on my ass, and I should have known better than to finish my glass. Eloise poured me another, and I gave in to the pressure to accept it.

By the time I reached the bottom of the second glass, I was well and truly drunk. Not so drunk I was about to fall over, but drunk enough that I knew I had made a mistake. I was alone in a foreign country and had a long walk down a dark street to my hotel.

Certain I needed to get back to my hotel room sooner rather than later, I settled up my tab with the leks in my wallet and bid everyone farewell. Andres rose from the table with me. He had probably matched my alcohol intake, but he was taller, heavier and likely had way more experience with social drinking than I did.

“Your phone,” he said, gesturing toward the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” I said, my thoughts a little fuzzy.

“Wait here. I’ll get it for you and walk you back to the hotel.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I wandered outside to the terrace of the restaurant and inhaled the cold, crisp mountain air. Just when I thought the trip to my hotel wouldn’t be so bad, it started to rain. “Are you kidding me?” I asked the dark sky. “Seriously? Rain? Now?”

Cursing my lack of a jacket, I started to shiver and dreaded the walk back. I would be soaked through by the time I reached my room. At least the shock of cold water might sober me up a bit.

“It’s raining?” Andres seemed as surprised as me when he found me leaving the terrace for the warmer interior of the restaurant.

“Just started,” I said, taking my fully charged phone from him. I glanced at the screen, but there was no service. So much for making contact with anyone back home!

Andres hesitated before asking, “Do you want to bunk with me tonight? So you don’t have to walk in the rain?”

I shared his hesitation. “Thanks, but it’s not that far to my hotel. The rain isn’t that bad either.”

As if on cue, lightning flashed close by and an eardrum splitting crack of thunder made me flinch. The light shower turned into a full deluge. There was no way I was getting back to my hotel safely in this storm.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Andres offered. “With my clothes on,” he added. “This really is not me trying to get you to sleep with me.”

He seemed honest, and so far, he hadn’t given me any indication that he wasn’t trustworthy. Still, there was always a chance he was like Ted Bundy levels of charming psycho. I glanced back at the rain flooding the terrace. Swim uphill to my hotel or sleep in a warm, dry bed in the same room as someone who had been nothing but kind and friendly?

“Um, okay,” I said, my woozy brain making the decision for me. “But, seriously, don’t try anything. If Spider doesn’t kick your ass, I can guarantee Besian will.”

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