When Quinn found her, Brittany was standing at the same spot where the encounter with the stranger had happened and she still had a dazed expression on her face. "Britt, we should go find a table," Quinn said. The sound of her friend's voice took Brittany out of her stupor, and she followed her towards one of the free tables in the coffee shop.
They'd been sitting, silently sipping their drinks when Quinn noticed the conflicted expression on her friend's face and asked what it was all about. Brittany frowned "I don't know. I bumped into someone, or I guess she bumped into me, and she was so stunning," she explained. "Oh, so it's a girl that's got you all messed up," Quinn smiled. "Yes, Q, she was the most beautiful girl. But I froze; I couldn't even answer that I was okay when she asked me. And when I did speak, I said the first thing that came to my mind, and she just smiled at me. And her smile was killer, so I obviously froze some more and then she left." Brittany finished with a pout. Quinn seemed to contemplate what her friend had just said "So you spoke to her in Spanish?" she asked. "No, she spoke to me in English from the very beginning. She must have guessed where I'm from" Brittany said. Quinn smiled and said "Well, you are wearing my NYU hoodie, B." Brittany looked down at her chest "In any case, if she lives in this neighborhood, you may bump into her again" Quinn suggested. "Oh, you're right; I think she was out jogging with her dog, so she might be from around here." Brittany concluded and, in her mind, she made a note to return to that same Starbucks the following morning, to see if she could run into the stranger again.
Brittany suddenly remembered that she hadn't let her family know that they had arrived yet. She opened her email account and she saw that she had six new emails, all from her mother. The six had been written in decreasing time intervals between each other and with what seemed like increasing levels of alarm from her mother's part. So she sent her mom an email to let her know that they were okay and told her to call off the "international scale manhunt" that she was trying to get started, and also that Liam Neeson would probably not be available to go rescue them, anyways. She wrote her a short paragraph with her first impressions of the country and sent hugs for the rest of the family. Quinn also took the opportunity to send her own mother a quick email.
When they had both finished their drinks Quinn cleared her throat, "So," she said "I think we should find a better place to stay at. We'll be here for the better part of two months and I can't imagine having to cope with the smell in the room at the hostel for another minute." Brittany silently contemplated her options, she knew that Quinn's mind was made up and she would't mind moving to a nicer place herself, but it was Thursday and she didn't want to spend the whole weekend looking. So she said "Well, I think that we should take our time and find someplace really nice. We can give ourselves a week's time and take it easy during the weekend. Does that sound okay?" Quinn thought about what her friend had just suggested for a small while and ended up agreeing to slow down and wait, for the sake of their first weekend. Yet, only an instant later, she grabbed her phone and started searching for rooms on every rentals website she knew of.
They left the coffee shop and walked around the area. As Quinn had pointed out, they were just behind the National Library, so they went and saw that. It was a strange looking building, and Quinn gazed at it with a fascination that Brittany wouldn't understand until weeks later, when she'd get to see the inside of the Teatro Colón. Anyways, her friend explained with a wistful smile that this was the new library building. That she'd read that a former director of the Library, and one of the country's most celebrated authors, who at the time of the inauguration was going blind, had seen the building for the first time through his foggy eyes and had declared that it looked like a sewing machine. Upon looking at the building for a second time Brittany thought that the comparison made perfect sense.
Then they visited the "Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes", or the National Fine Arts Museum. Then they went to see the building of the Law school of the University of Buenos Aires, which was very close to the museum. The university building was huge, and its front had the tallest columns and stairs with hundreds of steps. Brittany challenged Quinn to a race up the stairs. Quinn declined the challenge, so Brittany just ran circles around her on their way up. They wandered inside the school, walked around for a bit and decided to sit in on a class where an old man gave a lecture to a sleepy group of students. Quinn and Brittany couldn't understand much of what was being said, but from the cadence of the man's voice and his intonation, they did understand why some of the kids at the back of the class had fallen asleep in their seats.
They'd busted out of the school laughing after the professor had tried to ask Brittany a question and she'd had to answer, in the best Spanish she could muster, that she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. When they realized it was way past lunch time, they walked towards Plaza Francia and ate at a place called Café Victoria. After lunch they just walked around the neighborhood some more and went back to the hostel. In the evening they ordered pizza and beer with some of the other people who were also staying at the hostel. They chatted with some of them. When they realized it was already 1am, they went to bed.
As she drifted to sleep, Brittany thought about all that she had seen that day, and she realized that the part of it all that was the most vivid in her memory, was the encounter with the girl at the coffee shop. She always seemed to be able to remember the things that had sent her into sensory overload best, and this girl had caused her senses to have some very strong reactions.
The next morning, Brittany dragged Quinn out of bed and convinced her to go back to the Starbucks they'd been to the previous morning. When they were on their way, Quinn told her that she knew that Brittany had no interest in coffee and just wanted to see the mysterious hot girl again. Brittany didn't deny it; she just made Quinn walk faster. They got to the shop, bought their drinks, sat down and waited, but the stranger never showed up.
Brittany didn't let that dampen her spirits. The girls left the coffee shop, and walked the length of Alvear Avenue, until they reached Carlos Pellegrini Square, saw the French Embassy building. And then they walked up 9 de Julio Avenue until they reached the Teatro Colón. Brittany decided to practice her Spanish by going to the box office and asking for the dates and times of the ballet functions and the price of the tickets. She thought she did rather well, even though it took her a few tries to find the right words. She left the theater thinking that she just couldn't wait to go see the dancers there.
They ate lunch at a small restaurant around that area. Then they walked to the Obelisco. Brittany thought it looked like a smaller version of the Washington Monument, and she already thought that one was about the least exciting monument there ever was. She was not impressed. After the Obelisco, they walked Corrientes Avenue. When their feet started to hurt, they just took a bus back to the hostel.
There was a party in the hostel's back patio. One of the hostel's employees was barbequing hamburgers and "chorizos", a sort of fatty pork sausage. As soon as Quinn tried a choripan, a chorizo in a bun, she declared that she was obsessed with it, and that it might even be the new bacon. Then she retracted her statement, and re-swore her allegiance to bacon, but still maintained that chorizos were easily top five material.
The girls ate, had a few beers, and went to sleep despite the protests of some of the boys they had met the night before that the fun was only just beginning. At their room, before they fell asleep, Quinn said, "No luck on the new place yet, Britt, I've been looking but there's nothing." Brittany answered, "Don't worry, we've only just begun. And you need to promise that you are going to leave that aside tomorrow and have some fun." Quinn sighed, "The people are nice here, but I kind of want a room that doesn't smell like a high school boys' locker room, and some privacy would be nice too" she complained. "I don't know about that, but I do know that tomorrow night we are going out and and that's final," said Brittany in a firm yet playful tone.
When they woke up on Saturday, Quinn hadn't even tried to argue against it, and had let her friend lead them to the usual Starbucks. They sat in silence for a while. Quinn swiped her phone's screen furiously and Brittany stared intently at the door. Quinn had finally broken the silence to ask her friend how her arm was doing. Brittany shrugged and answered that her arm was fine, and that she had physical therapy scheduled for Monday morning. She didn't like to have to think about the injury; no dancer ever likes to think about their injuries. Once again, the hot stranger was a no show.
It was sunny and not cold at all, so they decided to go to a park nearby, Parque Las Heras, and just spend time there read a bit and do some people watching. After they got tired of the park, they ate lunch at a café and went back to the hostel. They found the guys they had met two days before, two Colombians, one Chilean and one Australian, who were joined by two girls from France while they had a few beers in the patio. They joined them too. The Colombians invited them all to a party in Palermo. Brittany and Quinn looked at each other, then back at the guys and Quinn said, "Sure, why not?"
When they thought it was time to start getting ready to go out, Quinn and Brittany went upstairs, showered, changed their clothes and did their makeup. Surprisingly, when they went back down, the guys and girls were exactly where they'd left them. About four hours more passed, and it was 2am when they finally left for Palermo.
The booming bass could be heard from a distance. The party was at what seemed like a hybrid between a bar and a house. They rang the bell and someone on the second floor terrace stuck their head out a small window and asked who they were, one of the Colombians answered and they were let in. The Colombians explained that a British guy had rented the house and he'd started throwing parties and that his friends would show up to them with their friends, and then those people would bring new people. When the parties had got so big that he could no longer afford to buy the booze for everyone, he'd just started selling it.
The drinks were cheap, so they drunk a lot. Brittany danced with everyone. She'd missed dancing just because and not having to follow an elaborate choreography. They stayed at the house party until 4.30am, when most people decided to go to a club a few blocks away. So they followed them and kept dancing and drinking.
When they left the club it was daytime and they were all drunk and exhausted. Only one of the Colombians and the Chilean had stayed with them. They started walking in the direction of a bus stop. They'd walked a couple of blocks when Quinn slurred, "Stop! Do you guys smell that?" and she just started walking faster in the same direction. The other three walked behind her until she came to a stop. She was standing in front of a small shop that sold gigantic burgers.
After they'd eaten their burgers they took a taxi back to the hostel. Once in their room, the girls were surprised to find that none of their roommates were in bed yet. They started changing into their pjs. When they were done, Quinn, who was still considerably shitfaced, started sniffling. "Oh, no, Quinnie, are you weepy drunk right now?" asked a slightly more sober Brittany from her bed. "No, I'm just…" said Quinn as she started riffling through a pile of stuff on the floor of the room. "Aha! I found the smelly fuckers!" she exclaimed as she held up a pair of sneakers. She then proceeded to open the window and throw them out into the street. She went to bed with a satisfied grin plastered on her face. Brittany closed her eyes and thought about the girl at the Starbucks, she wished that she could find her once more.
On Sunday they got up after midday. Quinn was hung over but decided to power through it. And Brittany was anxious that she had abandoned her post at the Starbucks that morning. But in the end, she figured it was very likely that the stranger had also slept in that day.
They went to the artisans fair in the Recoleta. They were walking around Plaza Francia when Brittany saw a paper sign taped to a signpost. It said "Rooms in Recoleta". And then it listed some of the details of the rooms. There seemed to be no problem with them. So she called Quinn over. Her grumpy friend peered over the dark glasses she was wearing and looked at the sign disdainfully. She said that it sounded too good to be true, that she didn't intend on being trafficked; she then turned and walked away. Brittany ripped one of the small papers with a phone number in them and went after Quinn.
After they'd eaten a late lunch, Brittany told a more pliant Quinn that she had the number for the rooms and that she thought they should just call it. Quinn agreed and dialed it. Brittany listened as Quinn said, "Hola, llamo por las habitaciones para rentar en Recoleta" and then her friend let out a breath and said "You speak English! Okay, yes, we only need the two. We're two girls and we'd each be staying in one room" Quinn paused and smiled "Sure, we'd like to see them as soon as possible. Yes, three pm works for us, see you tomorrow, bye." She turned to Brittany and said, "We have to go see the rooms tomorrow at three. She'll text me the address. She seemed like a really nice older lady." Brittany smiled, "Awesome" she said. Quinn's phone vibrated in her hand "Oh, there is the address" she said looking at her phone, "That's really close by." Brittany was excited; she stretched her arms behind her back and declared, "I have a good feeling about this one."
Hola, llamo por las habitaciones para rentar en Recoleta: Hello, i'm calling about the rooms for rent in Recoleta