Ana

I reached over to put on my jeans and felt my cell phone vibrating. From my jean pocket, I took out the old flip phone that was held together by duct tape to see Ana calling me.

“Bok?”

“Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you all night!” Ana yelled over the loud techno music in the background.

“I’m busy!” I said dismissively.

“No, you’re not if you’re answering the phone. Bring her! You have ten minutes to get here,” Ana fired back.

I smiled to myself. God, I loved that girl. She never took shit from anyone, not even me. And I could be a mean motherfucker. We’d grown up together in Dalmatia. I knew all her secrets and been there for her every time her heart was broken by her many loser boyfriends. She had a rough childhood with no father and a drunk mother who only cared about herself. Ana had had to grow up real fast and learn to be tough.

I’d never forget it. When Ana was only fourteen, she beat up a guy twice her age and twice as big as her. I always liked tough girls who could take care of themselves. At one point, I thought I would marry her someday or at least someone like her. We had a natural, easy relationship with lots of joking around. I felt so comfortable around her. She’d punch me in the gut, and I’d slap her ass. People who didn’t know us well always thought we were an item. But for some reason, it never happened.

It was a short five-minute drive to Shake-spear, the newest club in Split. As I drove closer to the club, I saw hordes of people milling around in the parking lot, some dancing to the music, some drinking, some just hanging out. I forced my car through the throngs of people, looking for a space to park when Ana’s blond head was suddenly in the driver’s side window. She grabbed my hair, turning my head toward her.

“It’s about time!” she barked. She looked over at the passenger seat and gave the girl a once-over. “Where did you find her? Not your usual type. Too wholesome. Don’t tell me you were so desperate you robbed a convent!”

“Fuck you!” I laughed. “Be nice! She’s … different. Be nice.”

 

Thousand-Year-Old Dream: The One