Amsterdam is really great, but not as great as New York. It's easier to get around though and the people are friendlier. Claudia and I spent the first day shopping. I know what you're thinking. It was a necessity. Honest. You won't believe what Claudia did. It's a long story, so I'll tell you when I get home.
XOXO Stacey
I hate lying to my mom. Technically, I didn't lie in the postcard. Amsterdam was great, the people were friendlier, and Claudia did do something stupid (and funny). But, I'm a big girl and pretty smart and sophisticated. I'm old enough and mature enough to realize that a lie by omission is the same as an outright lie. I made a huge mistake on my first day in Amsterdam. A mistake no New Yorker should ever make. I just couldn't admit it to my mom.
Let me back up. It all started on Sunday morning when I went to wake up Claudia. Everyone else was already dressed and eating breakfast, except Claudia and Greer. When I reached the attic, Claudia was sitting in bed, holding a mirror in one hand and a tube of mascara in the other. She'd done this cool Egyptian look with fuchsia eyeliner and gold glitter eyeshadow. It was really fresh. Claudia looked up at me and her eyes widened in alarm.
"Stacey!" she shrieked. "You're going to freeze outside!"
I glanced down at my outfit. I had on black and white checkered shorts with a red patent leather belt and a white sleeveless shirt. I was wearing the same sandals as the day before. For jewelry, I wore a red plastic bracelet and red hoop earrings. My hair was pushed back with a black and white checkered headband. The outfit seemed perfectly weather appropriate to me. Not to mention trendy and stylish.
"What are you talking about, Claud? It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming,"
"How can that be?" Claudia demanded. "Janine told me the summers are between twenty and twenty-five degrees in Amsterdam! We're on the other side of the world! Seasons are opposite!"
I stared at her in shock. "The summers are between twenty and twenty-five degrees," I replied. "Twenty and twenty-five degrees Celsius."
"Huh?"
"In America, we measure degrees in Fahrenheit. In Europe, degrees are measured in Celsius. Twenty degrees Celsius is, like, seventy degrees Fahrenheit,"
Claudia went pale, then turned bright red. We stared at each other in silence. Claudia looked ready to cry.
"Claudia..." I began, slowly, "what did you pack?"
Claudia stood up and walked over to her two bulging suitcases. She unzipped one. It was crammed full with heavy wool pants, puff painted ski parkas, and sweaters covered in ribbons and rhinestones. There was even a pair of neon green galoshes and a silver reflective umbrella.
"Oh, Claudia..."
We hatched a plan right away. As soon as possible, we would take the tram to the Waterlooplein, a section of Amsterdam that hosts a huge flea market. It's known for its marvelous collection of cheap second hand clothes. Claudia would be able to buy an entire new wardrobe. Afterward, we'd track down a craft store, so Claud could buy all the extras needed to create her signature style. We promised not to tell anyone about the misunderstanding.
We ended up telling Abby. We didn't have a choice. Claudia couldn't fit into any of my shorts. Don't get me wrong, Claudia's really thin, but I happen to be a bit too thin. So, Claudia had to borrow clothes from Abby. Abby swore up and down to never reveal Claudia's secret. She even offered to spit on it. We declined.
Claudia left the house in Abby's olive green shorts and a dark gray tank top that read Soccer Is For Girls. Claudia tried to jazz it up with a pair of red plaid high tops and peacock feather earrings. I wish I could say it looked fabulous. But it didn't.
After exchanging our money and buying tram passes, Claudia and I took off for the nearest tram. We didn't tell anyone our plans. We didn't want anyone else tagging along. Frankly, we didn't want Dawn tagging along. She had been nothing but a headache since we left Stoneybrook. Maybe living full time in California wasn't the answer to her problems. Perhaps, medication was. No way was I spending the day listening to a neverending lecture on global warming or the benefits of feral cat feces or whatever.
The flea market was even larger than I imagined. Stalls were lined practically all over the Waterlooplein! It was a shopping paradise. And, a bargain hunter's paradise. Just rack after rack of clothes. Claudia and I shopped for three hours straight. I bought an adorable skirt. It's long and silky in four shades of green. I also bought a cream-colored blouse that's so light and thin that I probably won't even feel it against my skin. Claudia managed to put together a fantastic wardrobe on less than 20 Euros (about twenty-five U.S. dollars). Claudia bought eight pairs of floral leggings for only 3 Euros! That's just four dollars! We just had to buy some glitter, lace, ribbons, and puff paint. Then, ta da! The chilliest vacation wardrobe in all The Netherlands!
Claudia and I decided to search for a craft store after lunch. We walked through the Waterlooplein, scoping out possible eateries.
"Wait, Claud," I said, as we passed a small store. It was in a tall, old building that looked almost ready to collapse. The store name was in English - The Gentleman's Delight. Several suits and ties were displayed in the window. "Let's pop in real quick. I want to buy a present for my dad."
The inside of the store wasn't well-lit. There wasn't a lot of merchandise either. Just a few racks of ties and argyle socks. I didn't see any suits, except the ones in the windows. Claudia and I took our time browsing through the ties. I think we both felt bad for the store and its meager inventory.
The store didn't appear in desperate need of customers. While Claudia and I browsed, three or four men came into the store and went straight to a curtain behind the register. Two other men came out from behind it and exited the store.
"What's behind the curtain?" I asked the girl at the register.
"Special imported items," she replied in a thick German accent. "For preferred customers only."
"But, I need a super terrific gift for my dad!" I protested.
"Send Dad here himself," she sniffed.
"I can't. I'm on vacation with friends," I snapped.
The curtain parted then and the most beautiful boy stepped out. He was seventeen or eighteen, tanned and muscular with shiny blonde hair. It probably gleamed golden in the sun.
"My name is Stas," he said in a light accent that I couldn't place. "Is there a problem?"
No sound escaped my lips. I was melting into a puddle of luv.
"Little girl needs super terrific gift for Daddy," the German girl told Stas. "She wants to see special imported items."
The girl smirked. I held my composure, instead of turning beat red. Or, throttling her.
Stas smiled the most genuine smile in the world. "I'm sorry, but those items are reserved for our preferred customers. May I help you find something else?"
"No," I managed to squeak. What an impression I was making. I cleared my throat and located my voice (and my brain). "I'm Stacey McGill, formerly of New York City and current resident of Connecticut." Wow. I sounded very grown up.
Stas chuckled and extended his hand. "Stas Petrauskas, formerly of Lithuania and currently enamored with a lovely American."
I did turn beat red then. He was so smooth and debonair, not like the junior high boys I usually date. I loved how he spoke his mind. Obviously, he was very mature and sophisticated. We were a perfect match.
"Would you join me for lunch?" Stas asked.
I glanced at Claudia, attempting to send her a message with my eyes. Sometimes I think Claudia and I share a psychic link. It's like she can read my mind.
"Well, I have to meet...Kristy...so I better go now," Claudia smiled at me, encouragingly. We promised to meet at the house later. I hoped she could navigate the tram system on her own, but didn't dwell on the thought. Stas escorted me to a cafe (he actually offered his arm!) We found a secluded table on the patio. It was incredibly romantic.
Stas continued to charm. I felt myself falling deeper in love with each bite of my chicken sandwich. Stas and I told each other our entire life stories. Here's some things I learned about him: he's seventeen years old and originally from Lithuania. (I have no clue where that is, but was too consumed with his expressive hazel eyes to ask). He moved to Amsterdam nine years ago after his parents died in a plane crash. He lives with his uncle, who's a doctor. Stas does temporary work at The Gentleman's Delight and other stores to save money for university. He wants to study medicine and work with children.
I knew immediately that Stas was the perfect boy. The boy I had searched for my whole life. I could tell he felt the same by the gentle way he stroked my hand and wiped a glob of mustard from my lip. Even though long-distance relationships are hard, I knew we had no choice but to try.
Stas and I talked for two hours, until I remembered I had to meet Claudia. Stas gave me his calling card and made a date for Wednesday afternoon. He walked me to the tram stop, where I ignored my first date policy about open mouth kissing and light petting. Three trams later, I finally boarded one. Stas and I waved goodbye. I blew him a kiss. As the tram neared the Leliegracht, I dug through my purse for a tube of lip gloss. The lip gloss was there. My wallet was not.