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Meryem

I wanna go home. I know it is not possible. I wonder what it is like to have normal parents. Like lovely ones. No, this is not about love actually. Cause I know my dad loves me, in his own way. I mean, I need to be loved according to my needs. If I had been loved in my way, I wouldn't have come here and be lost. But now, I know my hotel’s name but nothing more. Under the heavy rain, I am lost in New York, a completely strange city - also a completely strange country- and I don’t have an umbrella. I lost my phone, I think I forgot it in the taxi. Still, I know that leaving Turkey was the best decision I ever made. Even now, jetlagged as I am, I have no doubt about that. But now I have to find my hotel somehow. First, I have to get out of this rain, find shelter, get warm, maybe have a hot drink. I'm craving tea. But how can I find the kind of tea I know and like here? A hot coffee would be best. Or... There's a bar opposite me. Okay, a beer will do. Alcohol has always warmed me up. I push the door of the bar, pulling the suitcase behind me. What time is it? Once inside, I see my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. I look like a rat. My wet hair is stuck to my face. The mascara from my eyes has left black smudges on my cheeks. I take off my jacket and leave it on my suitcase. I pull my hair out of my face and sit on the barstool. As I take one of the napkins on the bar and blow my nose, a man approaches from behind the bar. Oh great. How nice to meet the most handsome bartender in America as soon as you arrive in America. And when you look like a rat. Anyway, Maryam, you're an engaged woman this very day. Besides, it's a cliché to be attracted to a bartender. I guess they hire these guys just because they're handsome. 

"I think it's raining."

I think he's a bit stupid. Or he's joking. Either way, it's stupid.

"No, what makes you think that? It's as dry as a desert out there. I poured a bucket of water over my head before I came in. because I don't like to walk around dry."

Eye rolls. "I think you're having a bad time. Would you like a drink?" he asks. He's very considerate.  

"No, I'm dying of happiness right now. Do you have a hot drink?"

"The cafe section closed two hours ago, but I'll see if I can arrange something for you."

"Thank you. By the way, what time is it?"

He looks at the time on his phone screen. He looks up and stares into my eyes. He brings his head closer to mine and whispers. "Are you a time traveler or something?"

When he gets closer, I straighten my back and pull my head back. "What? What the fuck are you talking about?"

He pulls back. "Relax man, it was just a joke. You could have looked at your phone to check the time."

"Oh, yeah, how were you supposed to know I left my phone in the cab?" 

"That explains so many things, yeah. I'll see if I can get you an herbal tea."

He goes inside somewhere. As soon as he turns around, I lean my head against the bar. I close my eyes. He comes back a little later. He has a steaming cup of tea in his hand. I smell linden and sage, neither of which I like. But I can't deny their warming effect in cold weather. It's a pity that the smell of linden and sage mingle with the sight of this curly-haired, hazel-eyed handsome man. A smell I loathe is paired with a sight I adore. The thought of this contrast makes me smile.

"I brought something you like, so you're smiling," he says as he puts the cup on the table. 

"On the contrary, I'm not a fan of herbal tea. But thank you. It feels very good right now."

"Then what are you smiling about?"

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"I told you, I'm dying of happiness." 

"Oh, I thought you were just being sarcastic."

"I'm sorry I was hard on you. I had a hard day." 

"It's okay, I think you're one of those people who try to get over their difficulties by needling people."

"What are you, a psychologist or something?" I laugh.

"Yes, I just graduated." he says very seriously while drying a glass. I look at him without saying anything. I wonder what I can say that won't offend him. He realizes this. 

"You wonder why I work in a bar. First of all, I have school payments and stuff. I finished my bachelor's degree, but I need money to get my master's degree. Secondly, I think bartenders and psychologists hear very similar things. So I'm almost doing my own thing and I'm making good money for now."

"Oh, okay then, shrink. Stop examining me. You still haven't told me what time it is."

"It's three in the morning."

"I don't even remember what time it was when I got on the plane. I think I'm about to pass out." My elbow rests on the bar, I put my hand to my forehead. I feel a little dizzy.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really. As you can see, I'm wet as a rat. I'm jetlagged and this herbal tea might have lowered my blood pressure. I haven't eaten for hours and I can't find my hotel."

"Okay, let's start at the end. Which hotel?"

"The Westin, I think."

"The Westin? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Why, am I too far away? God damn it." My shoulders are slumping. Does everything have to happen to me?

He laughs. I lean against the bar and say, "Yeah, it's too far. But maybe I'll bring you. I'm leaving in half an hour. Can you wait?"

"I mean, it's not like I have a choice." 

There are only a few people in the bar besides me.  I guess I was dropped off somewhere far away from the city center. Stupid cabbie. I told him to take me to the Westin. I sent him the exact location. And yet here I am, far away from where I am going to stay. I'm all alone. I mean, I'm used to loneliness, but that was loneliness in my own home. Now I have to get used to a different kind of loneliness, the loneliness my father unknowingly condemned me to. Or maybe he did it on purpose. Because he didn't care about me, didn't care about my feelings. And because I never had the courage to tell him how I really felt. 

After half an hour, he closes the bar and took me with him. We go out, walking in silence. Rain has stopped. After a few minutes I ask, “Hey, I am tired and have a suitcase. We're not going to walk the whole way, are we?”

“Yes, we are going to walk the whole way.” He says calmly. 

Why is he so calm about that? I stop in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“What? No, I can’t walk the whole way. We should take a cab.” 

“Can you just trust me?” He continues walking, gesturing with his hand for me to follow him.

“How can I trust you? I don’t even know your name. Oh my god, I am following a complete stranger in a city that I don’t know anything about.”

I am about to cry. 

He stops. “Lower your voice. You want to lose your other money too?” 

I look at him with fear. “No, I’m sorry.”

“My name is Ezra. And this is your place.” Shows me the “The Westin” sign on the wall. 

I don’t understand what just happens. He is walking the other way. I go after him. Grab his arm. “I am sorry. Thank you. You should have told me that we were this close to the hotel.”

“I wanted to tease you. But you are not that type of person. You are a fun-killer. And you are stubborn as a goat.”

Here we go again. The same thing happens. I'm in a country I don't know at all. I come to build a life from scratch, but I still find people who conflict with me.

I prefer my pride instead of saying goodbye with a nice thank you. 

“So you know me very well just because you walked three steps with me? Who are you to make opinions about me? I hope I never see you again.” I turn around angrily and as I enter the hotel I hear him call out, 

“Is this how you say thank you? I hope I never see you again either.”

I hand my ID card to the reception and I am given my room card. I ask how I can find my phone, I think it's at the mercy of the cab driver. So my priority right now is to dry off and sleep.  Then I will have to buy a new phone and a new line and tell my father that I have arrived safely.

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