Thank you all for the feedback below the first part of La Vida Loca! I'm glad that you got intrigued by the story, thanks for giving it a chance.
The same as earlier - big thanks for Bunkerhill and Arontrask78 for help with editing that story!
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Not gonna lie, I was pissed at Vida for almost the entire Tuesday. Can anyone blame me? Not giving your number to a guy with whom you already met several times, had hot sex with twice and overall spent a good time, was a really harsh way of saying...
Yeah, of saying... what exactly? That one thing just kept eating at me because Vida didn't say that we should stop hanging out. Evidently, she was willing to do that, but on her terms. For whatever reasons. Like I said, on Tuesday I didn't care much about Vida's point of view. My exasperation didn't let me. I wasn't even very eager to go to the gym to see her, but eventually went there with a rather confrontational attitude. However, Vida was absent on Tuesday. Perhaps, it was for the best, as I might have said something I would regret later.
But on Wednesday, my annoyance settled down. Icelandic impassiveness came back. It still was confusing, but I began to think differently about Vida's possible reasons. More... leniently. She declined giving me her number, but I could see that it wasn't the easiest decision for her. And whatever reason stood behind that, it didn't seem to be something insignificant or petty. I saw an emotional struggle on her face, when she stood on that sidewalk, looking so defeated. At the same time, she still wanted to date me, if what we were doing could be called dating. My attempts to understand her resembled a game of hunting the thimble, the only difference that I was hearing 'cold' almost all the time.
Vida was a puzzle, and I was no Holmes, no Poirot, not even Miss Marple. I couldn't solve her mystery, not with the insufficient clues I had at the moment. But I wanted to do that. Indisputably, there was something in that girl that was dragging me toward her. And it wasn't only intense, hot sex. I felt great being close to her, just talking with her.
Therefore, on Wednesday I went to the gym in a much different mood than the day before. I wanted to see her, but again, she wasn't there that day. And she didn't come on Thursday either. And on Friday as well. I began to feel weird, one time worrying that something might have happened to her, another time being bothered by perhaps an absurd thought that Vida decided to change the gym to another one, not wanting to see me anymore.
So, on Friday, after a lackluster workout, I left the gym and headed to my car, pretty much lost in thought. The night was warm, as each one in Florida was for a lonely Icelander.
"Gunnar!" I heard a familiar, melodious voice behind me.
I turned around and there was Vida. Standing a few feet away from me and smiling timidly.
"Oh, hey! How did you approach me so sneakily?" I answered, smiling warmly. The moment I saw her, I forgot all the mental hassle I had during the last few days, at least for a while.
Vida looked different, comparing her clothes choices today with previous days. She was dressed elegantly and stylishly. Beautiful and sexy.
For the first time I saw her with more makeup than only eyeliner - she had red lipstick and smokey eyes. Her fingernails and toes were also painted red. That was making an alluring contrast to white, airy dress with floral motifs, tightened at her waist with a thin black scarf. Other accessories were also black - a little leather purse, sandals, which I believe, are called gladiators. But the most captivating detail was a black choker on her neck. Nothing too complicated, just a thin strap of fabric, but for some unknown reason it made my blood rush south. So tempting...
"I have my methods," she said with a delicate smile.
"Oh, yeah, you're elusive like a mist," I answered, a bit sarcastic, but without hard feelings. "But when did you do your workout? I didn't see you in the gym."
"Because I wasn't at the gym at all. I'm sorry, I know that we were supposed to meet here on Tuesday, but I couldn't," she said quietly, but as I didn't answer, she added "I had to take care of some family issues..."
The tone with which she said that had a tangible gravity. I felt that she was honest.
"It's okay." My short answer was supposed to cut the topic painlessly, but Vida had a guilty expression.
"You're still mad at me, Gunnar? Because of that phone number..." She looked at me with these dark and glossy eyes. I could sink in them. And I think that I already did, at least partially.
"No, I'm not mad, Vida. Maybe I'm just confused, but it's fine, seriously. I'm sure you've had your reasons." I didn't want her to feel that way. I know, I know, I must be a sucker for pretty girls. For her, certainly.
Vida nodded slowly and said "I wish I could tell you about that..." She made a gesture around her head, as if it could explain what she meant.
"You can tell me anytime you want. I truly can listen, and I will not judge you," I said, trying to sound trustworthy, if this is even possible. But I really wanted her to know that.
Vida nodded again, but unconfidently. I was aware that she wouldn't want to talk about it, but I was still glad that I left her the opening. Whether she would use that or not, was her decision.
I felt tired with this topic, so I stepped closer to her and touched her forearm. "You look so beautiful today, Vida! What's the occasion?"
Her long lashes fluttered adorably, and her smile beamed, making her look even more beautiful. She also got closer to me.
"Thank you,
bello
! Yes, there is an occasion. A party! And I wanted you to go too! Actually, I came here in hope to meet you and take you with me!" Vida started to talk rapidly, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.
I restrained myself from saying sarcastically that having my phone number would be a much easier way to invite me to that party. But that small, petty satisfaction wouldn't be worth killing her excitement. Vida brightened up and explained to me that there was a festival celebrating Latino culture, with disco, food and of course the whole variety of beverages. She held my hand while we talked.
"So? Will you go with me? It'll be fun, I promise!
¡Vamos a rumbiar!
" Vida asked, looking at me hopefully.
"I would love to go!" I answered quicker than I probably should, realizing that I did that several times already - agreeing to her ideas without thinking. Was I really so heads over heels already?
***
I decided to leave my car in front of the gym, in case I would like to try some of those fine liquors from all around South and Central America, and we called for an Uber.
Sitting in the back seat and listening to Vida's stories about delicious food she wanted me to try was joyful. Her enthusiasm was contagious. We were sitting really close to each other and I decided to wrap my arm around her shoulders. Vida glanced at me and I could swear that she looked relieved. Maybe she thought that I was still mad at her? Well, I wasn't angry, however also not entirely sure what to feel about Vida, but embracing her wouldn't do harm. Vida snuggled to me more tightly and placed her head on my shoulder.
It felt as if we were a couple, even though I knew we weren't. Or perhaps we were? To be honest, it was confusing, almost wrenching, but at that moment I simply felt happy. It seemed wise not to dwell in those thoughts too much. We were going to a party after all.
I had no idea how long it took us to get to the festival or where exactly it was, but it didn't matter. The place was basically a fenced square in front of the building. There were several food trucks, set in half circles. And so many people... It was almost overwhelming for a person raised in a country with a population density of 3.5 people per square kilometer. In Iceland, you could easily live your whole life in one place and never meet your three and half neighbors.
But I shrugged off the social awkwardness and allowed Vida to lead me through the loud and colorful crowd. She held my hand, it was such a nice feeling.
We went to a food truck with Colombian flags, where Vida ordered seemingly everything from the menu, as we received a big plastic basket full of different food.
As Vida explained to me - as my first dish this evening I was trying the
empanadas
, which were quite big, fried dumplings with spicy meat and veggie fillings. Then there was
fritanga
and it was great street food. I was stuffing my mouth like a caveman, to her delight.
However, I enjoyed even more looking at Vida, as she couldn't help herself but sway her hips to the music. She looked so fresh, energetic and sexy in that dress.
After we ate, we went inside the building where there was a dance floor, bar and separate rooms with tables and seating. There were even more people inside than outside, dancing and flowing in every direction like a giant school of fish.
It was so loud that Vida had to hug me and shout directly to my ear "Let's go for some drinks, then we're gonna dance, okay?"
Instead of answering I just nodded, snuggled her tighter and kissed the side of her neck. Right above that sexy choker. I could feel the vibration of her giggle more than hear the actual sound.
I was gonna need a lot more to drink, if I'm supposed to be dancing, I thought with amusement. I wasn't much of a dancer, knowing close to nothing about rhythm, steps and moves. I was more of a spontaneous, weirdly stiffly moving robot, who first had to be 'relaxed' by a serious amount of alcohol. Last time I danced was at my cousin's wedding, several years ago. And yeah, I drank a lot that day to release my inner Travolta.
At the bar there was only one free hocker stool, but it wasn't a problem at all. I sat on it and Vida eagerly snuck on my lap. Only then I realized that muscular girls undeniably weigh more than regular girls. She was quite heavy, but as long as I could keep her so close to me, the risk of my legs going numb was worth taking. Besides, feeling her body, the warmth it was spreading and the pleasant scent of her hot skin was making not only my legs stiffen.
Since she paid for the food, I said that all drinks were on me. First we ordered tequila shots, next Colombian aguardiente, then something colorful like a rainbow, and then I lost track. We both were rather lightweights in terms of drinking, so we soon felt quite tipsy.
Everything turned a bit blurry, every image was leaving smudges at the periphery of my vision, but I felt great.
"Gunnar, let's dance! I love that song," Vida exhaled to my ear. It was one of the most known hits of Shakira, 'Loca'.
