Blinding Night Read online

  “I don’t know,” she said matter-of-factly. “At that age, they usually only want one thing.”

  I was pretty sure my ears were about to bleed. “I’m sure not much has changed regarding that.”

  She might have been right about that at least. Before college I guess I was a little more than naive. Thanks to my roommate, Melissa, I was introduced to a number of rituals that would leave me locked out for the night. I wasn’t surprised by the attention she had been getting from frat boys at parties. I just didn’t expect to find a sock on the door knob or a handwritten note on our whiteboard on various nights. At first, I didn’t get the context of the sock until I heard Melissa’s voice on the other side panting someone’s name. Chad, I think. Or Todd? I don’t remember…

  “Come back after 12.” That had been the message every time Melissa had a ‘guest’ over.

  To say I felt a sort of relief in leaving school had been an understatement. At least I wouldn’t have to share a room with anyone for three months. The moment my RA passed out housing applications, I filled it out and hand delivered it to the head of the housing department. Sealed and signed, in my best cursive, by Summer Mavros of Room 2C. Sadly, I was still waiting to see if my application for a single room would be accepted via email. Ever since I turned it in, I had been checking my inbox religiously.

  “I’m just sort of surprised,” Mom said with a sigh as she thumbed through the booklet of airplane etiquette. The side animations that came with the instructions, showed a man holding an air mask over his face, while the other depicted how to blow up a floating device.

  “You’re a really pretty girl...and, you know…” she shrugged. I looked at her a little bewildered. My mom wanted me to date? How could I have misconceived years of tyrannical rule and strict mom policies for encouragement? As if.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Well, you just...you never brought any boys around in high school,” she whispered. “Your father and I just weren’t sure.” Her eyes grew wide for a moment before she shrugged again. Clearly this was her awkward way of asking if I was gay.

  “Mom,” I said, scooting down into my chair. “I’m not gay,” I managed without sounding too irritated.

  “I’m just taking my time.”

  “You know we’d love you no matter what,” she said quickly. I bit the inside of my cheek, keeping myself from responding too harshly.

  “I know, Mom.”

  At least my response seemed to appease her. She slid the brochure back into the pocket of the seat ahead of her… The seatbelt light came on overhead and I slid the belt around my waist. Before she or the stewardess had the chance to stop me, I slid my earbuds into place and touched the screen of my cell phone. A picture of me and my dad lit up. His smiling face greeted me as he held me to his side in front of our Christmas tree. My dad was a handsome guy; his hair was sort of burnt brown like mine, with dark brown eyes. His smile was the best part–it was completely contagious. I was happy to know in a few hours I’d see him again. I clicked open the music app and turned on my playlist, playing it loud enough to drown out the sound of the plane and my mother’s voice. Bleachers filled my ears as I scanned through my text messages before I had to switch to airplane mode.

  “You’re going to have a great summer vacation!” One text message read.

  “Take a TON of pictures! Don’t forget to share on Instagram! They do have Instagram over there, right?” I snorted at my friend’s confusion.

  “Have fun–be safe.”

  As I flicked the yellow plane mode on my phone, I rested my head back against the seat with a sigh. I hoped for the same: to be safe and to have fun. Whatever that fun might be.

  Chapter 2

  “There’s my girls!” Dad shouted over the lingering airport crowd. His arms were open wide and his smile was as contagious as ever. I dashed ahead of Mom and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “There’s my Sunny,” he said with a chuckle as he embraced me tightly. “It’s so good to hold you again.”

  “It’s good to see you, Dad,” I murmured against his shoulder. He still smelled the same, even thousands of miles away from home: pine and clean laundry. He pushed me back carefully, keeping his hands on either side of me.

  “Pretty sure you grew too.”

  “Pft,” I snorted and shook my head. “You wish. Might be the elevation change.”

  “You got me there, kiddo,” he laughed. His brown eyes darted over to my mother and he smiled. “And you look as beautiful as ever.”

  “Nice to see you too, Will,” she replied with a bright smile of her own. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. His slender hand reached out for hers, and with his other, he held mine. We maneuvered our way through the busy crowd to the luggage claim area. It felt like it had been hours before our stuff finally showed up on the luggage carousel. After grabbing my suitcase, Dad led us through the rest of the airport and out to the parking lot. The sun was just dipping below the horizon; the night sky was large and vast, yet it felt strangely different from home.

  There was something in the air. Maybe it was the salt from the ocean or maybe it was just the fact that I was finally standing somewhere new and foreign.

  “I’m really excited you’re all here,” Dad said as he glanced over his shoulder at us. “I’m sure you both are pretty exhausted.”

  “I think I’ve just determined that I never want to have children,” I replied.

  “Or you’ve learned to never travel with children,” Mom chimed. I guess there was that too. All I knew was that the two kids behind me were riding a thin line. While I adored the massage chairs in the mall, I did not like the constant pattering of feet against the back of my seat. With the added benefit of a twelve hour flight in a stiff chair, my back and my hips were immeasurably sore.

  “So it’s a thirty-minute drive into the city. Do you want to eat at the apartment? Or would you like to experience some Greek food right away?”

  As we came to stop beside my dad’s rental car, I yawned. While food was glorious, I was too tired to have to walk for it. Besides, I ached with airplane pain.

  “Or I could run out and bring something back to the apartment,” he added, winking at me.

  “That might be a contender.”

  “I think going out into the city is a great idea,” my mom interjected as she slid her suitcase into the back of the trunk. “We’ve just been on a flight for hours. Getting out and using our legs might be good for us, Summer.”

  “I think some sleep would be good for me,” I countered as I moved to the side door.

  “Your mom and I can go out and bring something back for you, Sunny. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect,” I agreed before my mom had the chance to argue.

  I could feel the prickle of her gaze on me, but I ignored it. More likely than not, it was as sharp as daggers. Besides, it was dad’s idea, not mine. I was just going along with his idea, which was better than hers. As dad started the car and mom started gabbing, I slipped my ear pods back into my ears and turned on my music. If I was going to greet a new city, I was going to do it in style.

  The countryside was a winding array of slopes and smooth roads, speckled with the headlights of oncoming traffic in the darkened landscape. Over the hills, I noticed many of the old temples were lit, appearing along the way like magnificent and ancient Titans. Years of history waited beyond our tiny car. I wondered then what would happen if we left our car behind and abandoned the road. Would it take us back in time? Suddenly, I felt my dad’s hand on my knee, and I snapped to, tugging an ear pod from my ear.

  “Welcome to Athens,” he murmured. I smiled and slid to the other side of the back seat and wrapped my arms lightly around his shoulders.

  “It’s really beautiful.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “I’m glad I have you both here, finally. You’re going to love it, Sunny. I promise.”

  “This beats the pools, doesn’t it?” My mom chimed in. Maybe she w
as right. The scenery of the country was beautiful. But I was still alone. The likelihood of me ever making any friends–English speaking friends–were going to be slim. Dad drove his car through the winding, narrow streets until he parked in front of a series of close-fitted buildings. As he slipped from his seat, he pointed up to a window of one of the small buildings.

  “This is home for us. At least until August.”

  As I closed the side door and glanced up, I felt a sort of dread fill me. Our window was only one of many, lining the building. The doors and walls were stained with questionable street art and graffiti. I didn’t recognize or understand the writing. I wondered what they meant. Fortunately for me, there was at least one good thing that came with our new living arrangements. Across the street was a convenience store of sorts, which I noted would probably become a place I’d frequent often over the summer. I wouldn’t have to go far to get a snack or soda.

  Mom tugged our luggage from the back of the car without a word. Despite the lacking luxury of a gated community, she seemed to be more at ease with our homely accommodations. I expected some kind of push from her, but no such luck. Dad led us to our apartment door and opened it with an old brass key. As he helped mom pull her suitcase into the lobby, I struggled with my own against the cobblestone sidewalk.

  “Come on, Sunny,” I heard him call from over my shoulder.

  I turned on my heel and tugged at my luggage just as something caught my eye. A few doors down a tall shadow lingered. It felt like it was watching me. A strange shudder ran down my spine as I looked all around me. The entire street was eerily quiet, except for distant sounds of sirens and car horns. I didn’t waste any more time; lifting the handle of my suitcase, I jostled it into the lobby and shut the main door behind me.

  Dad was waiting by a narrow stone staircase and lifted his finger upwards.

  “Second floor,” he explained. “It’s a pain with groceries, but it’s got a great view from the back.”

  View or not, I just wanted a hot shower and a bed. In my opinion, the view of Athens and the food could wait for the morning. I heaved my suitcase up the set of stairs and followed him into the apartment. The living room and kitchen were all one shared space, leaving lots of room for furniture. The floor was lined with hardwood, giving it a very polished sort of look. And just as he promised, beyond the kitchen were a set of French doors opening to a grand view of the city. A tiny balcony would be our front row seats to the spectacle.

  “Just down the hall,” Dad began as he set his keys down on a nearby table, “are two rooms. One for you and one for your Mom and I. You have your own bathroom, as do we. Everything is pretty much walking distance, except for the ocean. You’ll have to catch a cab.”

  “I’m sure they have Uber,” I said with a smile.

  “Right. Uber,” Dad laughed and rolled his eyes. “I forgot, we live in this tech-savvy world now-a-days.”

  “No more wandering around lost with paper maps,” I teased.

  “Enough talk of maps and getting lost,” My mom groaned as she collapsed onto the sofa in the open living room. “I’m starving. Food! Feed me!”

  “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Dad offered again, tilting his head towards the door. I shook my head.

  “I’m beat. I’m going to go take a shower and crawl into bed.” I couldn’t help but yawn. “It’s practically screaming my name.”

  “You hear that? Apparently our daughter is hearing voices in her head,” my dad laughed. Mom pushed herself up to her feet and started towards the door.

  “That won’t be the only shocking thing you hear if I don’t get food in me,” she teased. Dad shoved his hands into his jean pockets and sighed.

  “Alright, we won’t be out too late. I’ll bring you back something.”

  I lifted my hand in a silent farewell, and watched as they disappeared through the main door. Suddenly, I was all alone. In Greece. As I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and finally switched the yellow airplane mode off, I was surprised to see I didn’t have any text messages to follow. No one had reached out to see how I was doing. It was sometime in the afternoon over there, while it was nearly bedtime here.

  I felt a sudden drop in my shoulders as I realized my disappointment. So much for ‘friends.’

  “How much time is it between Rhode Island and Athens, Greece?” I asked my cell phone as I rolled my suitcase down the hall.

  The clear computer voice responded with: “Athens, Greece is seven hours ahead of Rhode Island, Summer.” Seven hours. Seven hours and thousands of miles away.

  The first door on the left was a simple room with some basic furniture and a single bed. I was shocked to find the bed was already adorned with a puffy, white comforter. I set my suitcase down beside the door and fell back into the mattress. The white mass of fabric poofed up around me and as I slid my fingers over the blanket. My heart skipped with glee. There was no mistaking that this exact blanket was the same as the ones I coveted from Ikea!

  I swore to myself right then and there, I would never eat another bowl of cereal in bed ever again, if only it meant my new blanket remained in pristine condition.

  With that thought, I didn’t want my new bed to smell like an airplane the way I did, so I pushed myself up and went through the other door connected to my bedroom. Inside was a small, private bathroom. It was a little narrow for my taste, but it was perfect and more importantly—mine. I didn’t have to wait in line, or worry about it smelling like rose geranium toilet spray. I rushed over to my suitcase and wasted no time in digging out my pajamas and toiletries.

  It felt wonderful to peel away my day-old clothes. My jeans smelled like the cheap plastic seat covers from the plane, and my buttery orange top needed a good wash. As soon as the hot water was ready, I slipped into the steam and let it drown me in sweet relief. Even the simple delights of scrubbing my scalp with shampoo was heavenly. I probably could have been in there for hours, but exhaustion was beginning to set in.

  Wrapping myself up in a towel I found behind the door, I wandered back into the room and changed into an oversized grey t-shirt, and black shorts. I carelessly slid a brush through my hair and got rid of the worst of the tangles. I’d worry about the rest in the morning. Before I slipped into the covers, I opened the window in my room and listened. Athens was still alive–pulsing with a heartbeat fueled by its city’s vitality. I hoped in time I would find my own rhythm in the hustle and bustle of the city life.

  But that would all have to wait until the morning. The Summer who flew in from Rhode Island, the girl on eastern standard time, wasn’t ready for a new rhythm. What I needed were a few good hours of sleep, and then I’d be up to attempt in exploring a little. Clamoring into my bed, I pulled the white coverlet over me, and closed my eyes. It definitely was from Ikea. I’d have to remember to thank dad when I saw him in the morning.

  A few hours passed, but I couldn’t sleep longer than fifteen minutes at a time. I tossed and turned, trying every position to make myself comfortable. I even risked the chance of dangling my foot over the bed, uncovered without any protection, to find the perfect balance of warm and cool air on my body. While no monsters dragged me from my bed, neither could I fight the insomnia. Maybe it was the jet lag. I looked for the red numbers on the digital clock in the corner of the room.

  10:32 p.m. Ugh!

  My parents still weren’t back yet from their late dinner. Pushing myself back up to my feet, I sifted through my suitcase and tugged out a pair of grey jogging pants and a white tank top. Maybe a jog around the city would tire me out. I piled my damp, brown hair on top of my head and secured it with an elastic band. As I slipped back out to the kitchen, I grabbed the nearest piece of paper and pen and wrote a note to my parents of where I was going. I dipped my feet into my sneakers and popped my ear pods into my ears and started my music again before leaving the apartment.

  As soon as my feet hit the pavement outside our apartment, I soaked in the fresh night air with a deep bre
ath. It was strange; salty even. Closing my eyes for a moment, I pushed myself from the curb and began to jog down the street. Some of the roads were narrow and windy, while others opened to lush buildings, aged with stone and beauty. The farther I ran towards the horizon, the more I could smell the ocean. Mom had mentioned we weren’t far. What would be a twenty-minute walk was becoming a ten-minute run. I crossed a large road, which opened to the vast sight of the sea. The waves were dull–quiet even. I was surprised to find no one was walking about. It certainly wasn’t like our boardwalks back home.

  Deciding to be daring, I tugged my sneakers off and wandered down to the coast line. The water was cold, but it felt good against my feet. I had only ever put my feet in the Atlantic Ocean–now, I was standing in the Aegean Sea. Maybe that was Instagram worthy. I bent down and lifted a small shell that lingered on the sand; it was smooth and white and nearly whole. I’d keep that as a keepsake for my first encounter with the Aegean Sea. As I turned back towards the distant lights, I felt a sharp sting against the sole of my left foot.

  “Shit!” I screeched as I lifted my foot and hobbled to the dry sand.

  I sat and glanced down at the bottom of my foot, finding a long scratch along the length of my sole. Damn. This was going to be hard to run with. As I lowered my foot back into the sand, a strange ringing filled my ears. Everything was dizzy and hazy for a moment–like the entire earth was off balance. And just as quickly as it had occurred, everything returned to being still–silent.

  The sooner I got back to the apartment, the better. Maybe there was something in the sea water that no one had warned me about. I hissed a breath and shoved my bleeding foot into my sneaker. The sooner I got home, the sooner I could tend to the scratch. I could already hear my mother in my ear: “You’re going to get an infection!”

  I pushed myself up onto my feet again and hobbled back towards the main road. My foot stung so badly it brought fresh tears to my eyes. If I was going to get home on my own, I needed to suck it up and push through the pain. Halfway through the route though, I began to regret ever leaving the apartment. This was supposed to be tiring... not painfully so. Nothing along the winding road looked familiar, and I was growing dizzier from the pain. Glancing down at my phone, I decided to try to use my GPS app to get me back to the apartment. Thank God for Google. If I hadn’t searched Dad’s address earlier, I would be totally clueless…