Hey girl! I'm sending this postcard to your house because I'm afraid you'll beat it home from camp. If not, you'll have a surprise waiting for you!
I've had some bad luck since arriving in Amsterdam. Things are looking up though thanks to Alan Gray (yep - the same Alan Gray from SMS. He's here. Don't tell anyone!) and my new boyfriend, Stas Petrauskas (isn't that a romantic name! He's from Lithuania! Could you look that up in an atlas for me?) I've also met this strange girl. I don't know if we'll become friends. I think she sort-of likes Stas. But he has eyes only for me!
The next time you see me, I'll probably have a ring on my finger!
XOXO - Stacey
The postcard I sent Barbara was pretty long. I had to write super tiny and dot my is with even tinier hearts. My hand cramped something awful.
Barbara Hirsch is a friend of mine from the SMS Pep Squad. We aren't close friends or anything, but outside the BSC I don't really have any girl friends. I have a long string of ex-boyfriends, but probably they didn't care to hear about me and Stas. Especially after I'd broken their hearts.
And, I couldn't tell the BSC about Stas either. He wanted to keep our relationship private since it's so new. He's really sweet and romantic like that.
As I told Barbara, I'd had a run of bad luck. As a native New Yorker, I should have known to keep a closer eye on my purse. Even more foolish - all my money was in my wallet. I knew better than that.
Sunday on the tram, I panicked and rushed back to the cafe. I searched underneath the table in case my wallet had simply slipped out. No sign of it. I described the wallet to the cafe manager and to my delight - it had been turned in! That delight was short-lived, however, when I opened the wallet and discovered it empty. At least, empty of money. Only my SMS ID card, Mega Video membership card, and a gift certificate to Zingy's remained.
I burst into tears right there in the cafe. What would I do? Who would I turn to? Then, it occurred to me: Stas and I were in luv. You can always turn to your true luv. I ran to The Gentleman's Delight. I knew I could count on Stas.
"I need to see Stas!" I told the German girl.
She smirked. (what else was new?). "Stas lost interest already?"
"No!" I cried. "This is an emergency! Did he come back here?"
"No. Stas did not return from lunch with little girl. Probably he went to other store,"
"Other store? What other store?"
She smiled, wickedly. "The Forbidden Fruit,"
"Where is it? I must see him,"
"Store is in the Jordaan,"
"The Jordaan? I don't know where that is!"
"Buy a map," she replied, then opened a German entertainment magazine and began reading.
When I finally found the Jordaan and The Forbidden Fruit, Stas was already gone. I burst into new tears, as I left the store (which sells dried fruit. How random). As soon as I got back to Verbruggenhuis, I picked a fight with Claudia, who seemed a bit flustered herself. I had no reason to be angry with Claudia. I just had so many emotions boiling inside that I had to let them out, or else panic and go crazy. How would I survive two weeks in Amsterdam with no money? No way could I tell my parents what happened. I didn't want the BSC to know either. They expect me to be street-wise and Big City Sophisticated. They respect me for it and I didn't want to disappoint them.
At the emergency BSC meeting we found out that Alan Gray had shipped himself to Amsterdam in a dog carrier. Everyone argued over what to do with Alan. Except me. I had just discovered six dollars in my pocket and was preoccupied with sorting out how to spread the money over two weeks. (I am a math whiz).
However, I started paying attention as soon as Alan mentioned his money. In addition to being sophisticated, stylish, gorgeous, diabetic, and a math whiz, I'm also pretty clever. I knew exactly what Alan had planned for his money. (I am a native New Yorker, after all). I thought, Alan had something I needed and I had something he wanted, so why not negotiate?
Alan and I were the last ones to leave the attic. I gave him my sexiest wink and trailed my fingers along his inner thigh. I purred my proposal. Without hesitation, Alan agreed to the offer. He would buy my dinner in exchange for a later service. It's amazing the power of a well-placed hand. Alan completely melted. Or, well, the opposite of that.
After dinner, Alan and I met in the alley behind Verbruggenhuis. It was dirtier and smellier than the places I usually trysted, but it didn't matter. I wouldn't be on my knees or pressed against anything.
Alan was quite immature about the whole encounter. Not at all surprising. I couldn't expect him to handle himself with the same maturity and control as Mr. Johanssen or even Byron Pike. Alan giggled when I wrapped my arms around his waist and nibbled on his left ear. He shook with laughter as I undid his pants and totally rocked his world.
Despite Alan's complete lack of self-control (in more ways than one), it went quite well. Except for when Dawn came along and started yelling at us. It was dark though and she was far away, so I'm sure she didn't recognize me and Alan. Perhaps, I could cash in Dawn's plane ticket. That would solve two problems.
Alan promised not to brag to the guys at school. I didn't believe him for a minute, but took comfort that the last laugh would be on Alan when he learned that Pete, Austin, Logan, and Howie received my services for free.
First thing Monday morning, I caught the tram to the Waterlooplein and The Gentleman's Delight. Stas wasn't there (neither was the rude German girl), so I took a tram to the Jordaan. At The Forbidden Fruit, a different girl was at the register than the day before. She was seated on a stool, engrossed in a thick novel.
I walked up to the register. "Excuse me," I said. "I'm looking for Stas Petrauskas,"
The girl raised her dark eyes and peered at me over the glasses that hung on a chain around her neck. Very librarian-like. She pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose, which was large and odd-shaped. She was around sixteen and would be pretty, if not for that nose.
"What do you want with Stas?" she asked.
I bristled. The last thing I needed was competition. "That's my business," I replied, coolly. "Is he here?"
She stared at me awhile, then slipped off her glasses and cleaned the lenses. "No," she finally answered. "He's not here. I don't expect him until the afternoon,"
"I'll wait,"
"You shouldn't ," she told me. "You should just leave,"
I lifted my chin and held my tongue from the biting comments at its end. Stas could never love such a homely girl. Who was she kidding? Sure, she had the darkest, thickest red hair I'd ever seen and pouty dark pink lips that probably never required gloss or color. But, there was that nose and those dowdy old lady glasses on their green beaded chain. Poor girl was delusional.
"I'll wait," I repeated, defiantly.
I sat down on a chair in the corner and watched people pass on the street. When customers came in (which was often), I watched the girl. The men always went straight to the register, where she would pull out a thin brown leather-bound ledger. They'd speak to her in Dutch or German or French while she wrote in the ledger. Even in a foreign language the girl seemed unfriendly and curt (but efficient). After putting away the ledger, she led the men through the curtain behind the register. When the men reappeared twenty or thirty or forty minutes later, she took out the ledger again. All the men paid in cash. A few families came in and bought bags of dried fruit. I noticed the girl rang them up on the register, then after they left, she took out a maroon ledger and wrote in it.
Around twelve-thirty, my stomach growled. I knew I had to return to Verbruggenhuis for lunch. I wished I had thought to bring a lunch with me.
"I'm going home for lunch," I told the girl, "but I'm coming back. Make sure Stas knows."
I turned and started through the door.
"Wait," she called. "I'll walk you." She disappeared behind the curtain, then reappeared within a minute. "Where are you going?" she asked when we were outside.
"The Leliegracht,"
"The tram stop is this way," She walked purposefully down the street without another word, her hair swinging behind her. It was the longest hair - longer even than Dawn's- and almost reached mid-thigh. I thought she was dressed inappropriately for the season in navy blue slacks and a gray sweater. If I wasn't worried that she wanted to steal Stas, I'd have given her some serious fashion and hair care tips.
She took me straight to the tram stop, then leaned against the canal railing and lit a cigarette.
"Smoking's bad for your health," I informed her.
"So are a lot of things," she replied. But she threw the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out with her shoe. "Where did you meet Stas?" she asked.
"At the Gentleman's Delight," I replied.
"Why are you looking for him?"
"I told you, that's my business," I told her. I hesitated. "Why? Do you want him?"
She laughed, rich and deep and mocking. "No, I don't want Stas. But I want to know why you want him,"
I don't know what came over me. The entire story poured out - Stas and the cafe and the money and the fear of telling my parents. Sometimes, it's easiest to admit secrets and truths to strangers. "And, so," I finished. "I'm hoping Stas will help me. Find my money or loan me some money. Or something,"
The girl stared silently, took another cigarette from her pocket, lit it, and took a long drag. She turned her head away as she exhaled.
"I'll give you fifteen Euros to go away,"
"Excuse me?" I replied, sharply. What was with this girl? She wanted me to believe she had no interest in Stas? Yeah right! I was competition and she knew it. Probably, Stas had talked about me nonstop. Now that she'd seen me, she was worried. Enough so to offer to pay me off. No way, Chiquita. Stacey McGill can not be bought. At least not by girls. Nope. Stacey McGill knows when she's found true luv.
"Fifteen Euros," she repeated. "Fifteen Euros to forget Stas and disappear,"
"I knew you were jealous!"
She laughed again. "How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?"
"Thirteen and a half," I snapped. Well, it was almost true.
"I met Stas when I was fourteen. I'll be seventeen in October. Trust me, with Stas, three years can feel like thirty," She puffed some more on her cigarette. I may be sophisticated, but I still think smoking's gross. It's probably why she looked sixteen and yet, so...old.
"Go home," she told me. "Call your parents. Nothing they say will compare to what Stas will do to you."
The tram came then. It stopped a few feet from us. We watched the exiting passengers climb down the steps.
"Will you tell Stas I came by?" I asked her. "My name is Stacey McGill,"
For the first time, she smiled. Very sadly. "I know it is," she replied, then offered her hand. "Orchid Wickersham. It's a pleasure to meet you, Stacey, but a pleasure I hope to never have again,"
I climbed the tram stairs then and watched her retreat from the window, headed back toward The Forbidden Fruit. A tiny voice tugged at my brain, like I should listen. But, in matters of true luv, I am ruled solely by my heart. And, my heart wanted Stas. It did not want to share with a jealous girl named Orchid Wickersham.
At Verbruggenhuis, I made an egg-salad sandwich. I ate quickly, checked my insulin levels and changed into a striped fuchsia sundress. I sprayed Enchanted Summers on my cleavage, then chased a tram halfway down the block. When I arrived in the Jordaan, I checked my hair and make-up before turning the corner to The Forbidden Fruit. I spotted Stas through the window. My heart skipped a beat. He stood at the register with Orchid, leaning over the brown ledger. Orchid stabbed at the open ledger repeatedly with a finger while Stas shook his head. An argument! Quite clearly, there was absolutely nothing between them romantically. Stas was mine.
I tapped on the glass and waved. When Stas looked up a gorgeous grin spread across his finely chiseled face. I ran inside and jumped into his arms. I knew I was safe. Stas and I kissed a long while right there in the middle of the dried fruit store. No man or boy had ever lit such a passionate fire within me. I opened my eyes at one point to see if Orchid watched us in her rabid jealousy. Instead, she was changing the register tape, face completely impassive. I expected anger and disappointment. She acted as if she didn't even know me!
Stas broke away from my deep, sensual kiss. "I knew we would not be parted long," he told me. "Do not think me foolish, Stacey. I missed you. Terribly,"
"Oh, Stas," I sighed. "Stas, I need your help. Is there someplace we can be alone?"
Stas squeezed my hand. "Of course. Follow me,"
Stas pulled me toward the curtain. Wow. I knew that Stas must really trust me. As we walked behind the register, Orchid took out the brown ledger again. I glanced over her shoulder just long enough to see her turn to a blank page and write the first arch of the letter "M".