I had been waiting for him to get back for about fifteen minutes. I had already combed through and styled my hair differently, put on enough foundation that my skin looked almost natural, and rubbed a minimal amount of lip-gloss onto my lips so that when he got there, he would look at me more than once. I even bought a special scarf for the occasion.

It was blue, not the color of his eyes blue, or the color of my eyes blue, but more of a cobalt. It was patterned with hearts that grew in size as you got closer and closer to the middle. I had seen it when I was out on the streets of Bolivia that afternoon, and knew I wanted it to be my date scarf. The rest of the group had gone out to get Pizza, but I had stayed in, at least that’s what I had told them I was going to do. What I actually did was a completely different story.

It was too cold outside for me to go out in just a tee-shirt, but my sweater had gotten wet from being underneath my wet towel all day, so I went over to where his black sweatshirt lay and put it on. It smelled of his cologne and was two sizes too big for me, but I didn’t mind, it felt like I was wrapped in him. It made me feel safe. I then grabbed my wallet, locked the door to the hotel room and headed out to the coffee shop I had been to earlier that day.

It was only about a 5 block walk and I made it rather quickly. One of my favorite things about Bolivia, other than the amazing scenery and interesting culture, was that you were allowed to drink at 18. I ordered two coffees with amaretto and a slice of lemon meringue pie, and then walked back toward the hotel, hoping that I beat the rest of them back. It was a pretty risky plan, but it was for him, and I knew that I would be fine no matter what happened. He walked in to find me sitting on his bed, holding the coffees and wearing his sweatshirt.

“We’re having a date,” I said.

“What?” He replied confusedly

“Well not a date date, but you know what I mean,” I replied.

“Ok,” he said walking over and sitting on the bed.

“Here is coffee con amaretto,” I said, showing off my Spanish skills, “and there’s pie when you want it.”

“How did you do this?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee and then spitting it back into his cup.

“I went out to the coffee shop,” I said proudly.

“Is there alcohol in this?” He asked.

“Yes, I said amaretto,” I reminded him.

“What the h*** is amaretto?” He asked, taking another sip.

“It’s an almond liquor,” I replied

“Of course it is,” he replied laughing a little bit.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked.

“Because you are the only person I know who would go out and get almond liquor for a date with me,” he said.

“I also bought a date scarf, and got pie,” I said, “but the date hasn’t started yet. You can’t wear that to a date,” I said, indicating the fact that he was wearing a white “bro tank.”

“Fine, if I can’t wear this, what can I wear?” He asked, stripping off the white fabric.

“Put on that blue striped shirt. The one that brings out your eyes, that’s my favorite,” I said, loving being able to be high maintenance with him. 

He walked over to his bag and got the shirt I was referring to out. He put it on and said “happy now?”

“Actually no,” I said walking over to him.

“It looks stupid when you have the collar unbuttoned,” I said, reaching up and buttoning them for him.

“The girls say they look better down,” he said, going to unbutton them.

I put my hands up and smacked his away “the girls are wrong,” I replied.

He sat back down on the bed and we started in on the pie.

“Is this as good as the lemon meringue I make?” I asked.

“Not by a long shot,” he replied in between bites.

“So does this date have anymore planned events?” He asked.

“No, but I saw an open bottle of beer in the kitchen, we could try and include that if you wanted to,” I replied.
His eyes widened, and before I knew it he was out the door. He came back a few minutes later with the bottle and two cups.

“No chaser?” I asked.

“It’s beer, you don’t need a chaser, he replied.

“I hate the taste of beer,” I said frowning.

He put the glass up to his mouth, but I stopped him.

“What about a toast?” I asked him.

“Fine, to finally getting along,” he said and we downed the first cups.

My face must have shown my disgust because he looked amusedly at me for a moment before pouring the next cup. We finished the bottle and he was smiling at me in a way I had never seen him before. It was like all his cares went away.

“You feel anything yet?” I asked him.

“I’m gone,” he said and he got up and spun around.

“Want to go for a walk?” I asked him.

“Yeah, let’s do it!”

“Ok, but you have to put on a scarf,” I said, holding a red sparkly one up for him.

“Ninja’s don’t wear scarves,” he said.

“You aren’t a ninja,” I replied.

“That’s what you think,” he said, and with that we exited our hotel room and walked toward the hotel doors.
They were locked, but not just any kind of locked, locked in a way that neither of us could figure out how to unlock them. We tried moving the blocks that were connected to the bolts, but that didn’t do anything. He was holding my phone as a flashlight and the light would extinguish every thirty seconds as we tried to break out without alerting the teachers that were with us on the trip, finally we gave up.

“I hear music,” he said

He was right. It sounded like there was a band playing somewhere off in the distance.

“Do you want to go to the roof and check it out?” I asked him.

“Do you even have to ask?” He asked as he started walking towards the spiral staircase that lead to the roof.
As we climbed it, it became more and more evident how foggy the night had become. It was billowing in large clouds so we could barely see where we were stepping. Once he got to the top he held out a hand to help me up.

“You’re nicer when you’re drunk,” I said to him kiddingly.

The music was louder from where we were. It sounded like a mixture of punk and rock, but the lyrics we heard were all in Spanish and neither of us could understand them very well. We gazed off the edge of the roof and I let my hand linger in his. I felt the warmth of his fingers pressed against mine and I loved every second of it. I finally let go just when he started to say something.

“D***, I wish we could go out and see where this was,” he said.

“Well when are we going to have this opportunity again. Go get your knife. Give me like five minutes with the door. I have an idea,” I said and I started my decent back down the stairs.

I played with the lock for a little while longer before slipping my finger in the hole under the door. I pulled slightly while lifting up and it opened with a shrill creaking sound. He walked up a second later holding his jacket in one hand and his knife in the other.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, handing the jacket to me.

“Thanks,” I said putting it on.

We left the door ajar and headed out into the street. It was so foggy that would could only see a few steps in front of us.

“This is so cool,” he said, his hand staying in his pocket where it was still grasped around his knife.

“I know right,” I said.

We walked for a couple of blocks passed cafes and restaurants that had all closed hours ago.

“I think we better go back,” he said “I’m starting to get really sketched out, and it’s just the two of us,” he continued, as if he needed to explain why he was chickening out to me.

“I agree, it’s really just one of us anyway. I’d be completely counting on you to save me if anything happened,” I told him.

“Then we really need to get back,” he said, and we turned back towards where the hotel was located.

We passed several men on the street, and his grip firmed on his knife, but they didn’t say anything to us. Before we knew it we were back in the hotel. I closed the door firmly and we returned to our room. He got into his bed and I got into mine and just as I was drifting off into sleep I heard him say “you still awake?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“We should have dates more often,” he said.

“I agree,” I replied.

“What’s the name of that almond stuff?” He asked.

“Amaretto,” I said.

“Yeah, you should bring that to all of them too,” he said.

“Well that’s not going to happen, but I might bring pie,” I said.

“Ok, but will you at least make the pie yourself?” He asked.

“Only if you wear that shirt,” I replied.

“Deal,” he said, and with that, we drifted off into sleep.