A/N: Your reviews all blow my mind! Thank you all so much. This one still might be a little teasing, but after this, it's ON. What do I mean with that? Oh well, you know ;). Enjoy! X

Forty-three: A piece of Art.

Walking around the Rijksmuseum seems to ease my mind in ways that nothing else could. The paintings and architecture of the building consume me entirely, and it's something that I'm intensely enjoying.

I'm currently standing in front of the Night Watch. Rembrandt van Rijn painted it in the seventieth century when he was in his thirties. It's a dark painting; at first sight, all your attention drifts automatically to the two figures that are painted at the front.

I'm standing in front of the canvas for about fifteen minutes now, and the longer I look, the more I see. Hiden faces, the way the clothing is painted in a way that makes me believe I could feel the fabric beneath my fingers if I'd reached forward, the way the painting seems to go on for miles, and the way it seems to live when I look at it long enough without blinking.

The idea that this piece of art was even bigger before they cut off the sides so it would fit into a different space, is mind-blowing. And I can't help but wonder how Rembrandt even started it.

It's glorious, touching and almost out of this world.

Around me, children are gathered on the floor where they are told about the painting by a host that works at the museum. They are listening to him with wide eyes and mouths open as he takes objects out of a small suitcase. The objects are things as pieces of fabric, colors on paper, and even a tube of oily paint. The children can explore the items by touching them, so they understand the painting even better.

The look on their faces is priceless, and I find myself promising right here and now, that I will take my children here someday.

Children. I've never thought about my own children as specific as I find myself doing at this moment. I think I knew deep down that Colton and I would never have children together. He didn't seem to want them, and therefore I never brought it up.

Now that Colton and I are no longer together, the thought of having children doesn't seem taboo anymore. I can see myself as a mother someday when I have my things all figured out.

Thinking about my life after Colton is hard because I'm still living Colton every day now that divorcing him isn't as easy as I hoped it would be, but more and more I find myself thinking about what I want after him.

I want my own place. The two apartments that I visited that weekend didn't work out in the end because there were other things that required my attention, but I'm still determined to find a place soon. I want that for myself, but also for Taylor and Gail. We need that normality back.

I want a job were I feel at ease and as if I really contribute something to the society. I saw working at Port Bellevue as my only chance, and I was ecstatic that I got hired, but I'm not sure if it's where I should be.

I'm aware of the fact that that could be because of the whole situation with Christian. It all happened so fast with him, that I don't have any experience at Port Bellevue that doesn't involve him. Everything I did there, and probably everything I'll ever do there will remind me of him, even when he is long gone.

I know I have a lot to teach people. I want to teach people. I just need to figure out who I really want to teach because, at this point, teaching adolescents seems to only mess me up.

I want to be surrounded by positive people that I can trust. Friends. It's something that I never had during my relationship with Colton. I only had a family. Gail, and later on Hannah are the only two people in my life that I confide in that aren't blood-related.

Now that I've met Kate as well and am starting to develop a friendship with her, I suddenly see how important that is. I want that. A social life, people that I can have fun with and to whom I can talk to. People who I can ask for advice.

And in the end, when I have everything sorted out for myself and more importantly when I'm able to take care of myself without any help, I also want to love.

My history with men can be called a downright disaster. Colton for obvious reasons, Christian as well. I'm sure of what I had with Colton, and completely in the dark about what I had with Christian.

The feelings I have for Christian are by no means the same as the ones I had for Colton. I don't recognize the feelings as love. There are so many mixed emotions, so many different feelings, that the only thing I know is that it's intense. Too intense, and bound to be doomed for all the obvious reasons.

But when I think about a potential man in my life in the future, I can't see how anyone will hold my interest and my hate, consume my thoughts and touch me as deep as Christian manages to do. And therefore, the only thing I see when I think about my future love life, is him.

Christian and his annoying, charming as hell smirk.

And that's where the whole thing comes crashing down since that's not possible. It is meant to stay my fantasy. He is meant to stay my fantasy, not my reality.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" I hear from next to me, and when I turn my head, I see José standing there. He isn't standing as close as he normally does, but I know that will change the moment I'll answer him.

"It is," I mumble, again not saying any more than is necessary.

"Did you know this is one of the most famous paintings in the world?" he continues, taking a step closer. "I bet it's because it's so big."

"I doubt it," I counter, rolling my eyes at his commentary. He obviously doesn't have any clue what he is looking at.

I feel him take another step closer, and I take a step to my right to create more distance between us. I just seem to be unable to tell him to back off. I don't know why, but the way he acts almost paralyzes me. I think it has something to do with his dominant demeanor. I have a feeling that just telling him to stop won't work.

"He, Rodriguez," a raised voice I know too well calls from behind us. José and I both turn around since Christian's louder voice doesn't go unnoticed in a room where people are usually whispering. "If you look at this one, it's almost as if you're looking in a mirror."

John starts to laugh uncontrollably, while Christian seriously points to a painting on the wall next to him. My eyes drift to the painting in question on which a man is holding a woman against her will. It's obvious since her expression seems scared while her arms and hands suggest that she is fighting him.

With wide eyes, I look at Christian again. John thinks he is just fucking around, but I know better. His dark eyes and his expression tell me he is deadly serious. He is trying to send a message, and I can only be frustrated for not doing it myself.

"Out of all the terrors, I hate him the most," José growls beside me, obviously holding himself back for sake of all the other people in the museum. His hands have turned into fists, and he is indeed oozing pure hate.

I roll my eyes and start to walk towards the wing where the paintings of Vermeer are shown, desperately feeling the need to escape the intense stare-down José and Christian are holding.

In just minutes, I find myself consumed by yet another piece of great art; the Milkmaid, painted by Johannes Vermeer. It's a small canvas, but that doesn't take away the perfection.

"It's as if the milk really runs down, isn't it?"

I nod my head, not even bothering to look at him. I felt that he'd followed me, and I expected him to stand next to me as well.

"My uncle has a book with all the paintings of Vermeer. I think I've memorized every single one," Christian continues, his voice somehow reassuring. It's been so long since he talked to me in a normal, peaceful tone.

"What's your favorite?" I ask, my voice just as soft. I'm actually nervous. It feels as if he can explode at any minute.

"The Girl with the Pearl Earring. I've never seen it for real, but when I was younger the expression of the girl always made me think she felt the same as me."

I'm taken aback by his confession and when I look at him for a moment, I find him still looking at the Milkmaid. "I didn't know you're this interested in art."

"I'm not," he says immediately. "Just in Vermeer, I guess."

I nod and look at the painting again as well, not sure what to say to that. I'm not even completely sure why he tells me it, and I'm also still waiting for one of his tricks that make my life hell.

"Why don't you tell him to back off?" Christian asks after a few minutes of silence. I hear the disbelieve in his voice and I can't bring myself to look at him.

"I don't know," I mutter.

"Do you want that kind of attention from him?"

"No. I don't want any attention from him," I tell him while I roll my eyes. I don't understand his question since I know he sees that it makes me feel uncomfortable. "Do you want that kind of attention from Sara?"

He sighs and I don't have to look at him to know that he moves his hand over his face in irritation. I'm still looking at the Milkmaid, although my thoughts are nowhere near the canvas.

"Sara just fell asleep against me. If you have a problem with that, you should ask yourself about the reason you have. As for Rodriguez, tell him to back the fuck off. If you don't, I guarantee I will because I can't handle looking at shit like that."

Without waiting for my response, he walks away, pulling his hoodie over his head while doing so. He isn't allowed to wear his hoodie over his head inside this museum, and he knows that. I've told him and John that at least three times since we've set foot in here.

But I can't seem to find my voice to tell him again right now. I keep thinking about what he said, and how I heard that he meant it. If I won't tell José to stop, he will.

And something tells me that if he does, it'll not end well. At all.

"It's just so impressive, Ana. I can't believe that they really lived there for all those years, without making any sounds during the day. It must've been horrible. It gave me such a weird feeling to stand there," Kate says in between bites.

She visited the Anne Frank House today, and it's obvious that it did a number on her. She is talking about it non-stop, almost as if it's the only way she is able to process it.

"I swear, even the seniors we're quiet and full of interest while the host told us about the last few days before they got arrested. And can you believe that they still don't know who told the Germans? That must've been hell for her father too. He survived the war but never figured out who went behind their backs. Who knows it was someone he knew."

Before this trip, Kate urged me to read the diary of Anne Frank, and in hopes it would take my mind off life, I did. It was emotional to read since it's clearly written by a girl that had no idea about her fate. I'm happy I read it though because I know it will make my visit to the Anne Frank House much more memorable.

"It's horrible," I agree, taking a bite of my lame spaghetti bolognese as well. A few students made it under the supervision of Lopez. It didn't work out well.

Kate nods her head and then asks, "how was the Rijksmuseum?"

"Great. You can wander there for hours and not get tired of it. It's sad that most of the students don't find it interesting now. I bet their parents would die to be in their place."

"I'm sure too, but I honestly don't blame them. When I was their age, I didn't see the point of museums either. It comes with age," she chuckles. "I mean, they are in Amsterdam. The only thing they want is to get stoned and walk around the red light district."

I giggle and nod my head. "No doubt about that. Are we actually going to go there? I mean, it's a part of Amsterdam that's unique."

"Doubt it," Kate answers. "But if they're smart, they'll choose to do it tomorrow night."

I shake my head, smiling as well. "As if captain one and captain two will allow that." I nod my head to José and Lopez, who are talking about something while Lopez points to the map of Amsterdam that's laying on the table.

"They could use a visit like that," Kate mumbles, making me choke on a bite of spaghetti because I can't hold my laughter.

"This tastes like fucking garbage," someone at the end of the table suddenly says loudly, making all the heads turn. I look as well, and I see that the almost offended voice belongs to Dave. "Our parents paid a fucking fortune, yet we stay in this rusty place and eat shit like this."

To give his words more force, he grabs his plate and throws it in front of him on the table, making the spaghetti splash on Leila's clothes and face.

Internally, I'm laughing on the floor because of it.

"The fuck, Dave?!" Leila shrieks before she grabs a handful of spaghetti and throws it in his direction, making all the other students laugh.

"This is not good," Kate mumbles before she stands and backs away from the table, obviously attempting to stay far away from the huge food fight that is about to start.

José tries to reason by walking up to the group of troublemakers, but he is too late. Before he reaches them, Dave has thrown John's full plate across the table, hitting both Christian and Sara who as a response join the huge spaghetti-fight as well.

My eyes widen as I watch the situation unfold to complete chaos. The students are laughing and throwing around the food as if it's snow, José's face is covered in the red sauce because Christian took the opportunity to involve him into the fight as well, and both Leila and Sara are yelling that their clothes are ruined.

I back away from the table as well, standing against the wall next to Kate. I'm not going to interfere right now, not until most of the food is on the floor. It's insanity.

"Oh, here we go," Kate mumbles while she shakes her head and nods to Lopez, who is currently climbing on the table. The man is a little older, and therefore I hold my breath.

Once he stands on the table stable, he yells with heated cheeks, "STOP RIGHT NOW!" His arms are shaking and his hands are turned to fists. His glasses shifted to the tip of his nose, and he is even spitting.

He takes everybody by surprise with his yell, and the food fight is stopped immediately while everybody turns to him with wide eyes. I've never seen Lopez this mad, and I've never heard him scream like this either. He is arrogant and stuff, but he is never this violent.

The whole dining room is silent, and Lopez takes the opportunity to speak once again. "This is behavior my five-year-old grandchild doesn't even show. What the hell is wrong with all of you?! I want this place cleaned, and after I think it's clean enough, we'll tell you exactly what the consequences of this insanity is." The students don't move. They look at Lopez, some curiously, others surprised. When it's taking too long for them to get to the action, Lopez yells, "NOW!"

To every teachers' surprise, most of them start to clean up immediately. Only the terrors, who were seated at the end of the table with their group, look at him with arrogance for a moment. Then, Christian is the one who first decides to clean up as well, and like sheep, his gang follows.

Kate and I are speechless as well while we watch the students grab the food from the floor. I'm holding back my laughter, both because it was hilarious and because the silence is making me nervous. I just know Kate feels the same because her breathing changes while she pokes her elbow in my side. "Jesus Christ. And then to realize that this is just day one. The poor man will have a heart attack if they keep this up."

I muffle my giggle with my hand and Kate does the same, but not before she made me laugh a little harder. "He might be in need of a joint. And I'm telling you, I'd join him in a heartbeat."

I've personally never been stoned but right now, that sounds like heaven.