Twisted (20 page)

Nevertheless, it was not the end of our shocking trip; the low point was the actual boarding. The procedure is different from anything you’ve ever experienced before: the passengers walk across the apron to the aircraft, carrying their own luggage. As they approach the plane, they have to lift their bags and pass them to the man in the cargo section. And now for the best part: imagine this process when all the travellers know that there are ten fewer seats on the plane than the number of people about to board. Ha! Unforgettable scene! As soon as the ground crew leads us out of the building, all the passengers (excluding Inna and me, of course) start a race to get a seat.

Oh my fuck!

Inna and I continue walking, experiencing a culture shock. ‘What’s wrong with these people?’ I can hear from Inna’s voice that she’s quickly sobered up. ‘Are we in a war zone or something?’ She continues her comments while pulling her luggage through the thick, tall grass. We are the last to get on board. Sweating after the walk and the battle with our bags (the cargo door was higher than our heads), we finally get on board.

‘Can I see your boarding passes?’ the young flight attendant approaches us with a welcoming smile and confusion in her eyes. ‘I am sorry – there are no more seats available …’

‘We can see that,’ Inna interrupts, calmly, but with a hopping-mad expression on her face. ‘Shall we make ourselves comfortable on the wing?’

It’s funny, but no one smiles.

‘Would you mind going to the cockpit? Unfortunately it has only one folding seat, but you could share, and the flight is only an hour and a half. I am really sorry for the inconvenience.’

‘Fantastic!’ Inna throws, and heads to the front. As we walk down the aisle, we notice that some people are sitting on each other’s laps, while a few have settled themselves on the floor near the toilet at the back.

Despite all this, the flight goes smoothly and we get to Istanbul safely.

Alleluia!

I switch on my cellphone to a text from Alexandra. ‘I believe you are back, girls. I will need both of you tonight. Call me back as soon as you can.’ I show it to Inna, who frowns, lights a cigarette, and mumbles, ‘Back to work …’

We rush back home, swallow some take-aways that we grab on the way, and jump into the shower. A few minutes before leaving our apartment, I get another text from our pimp with the client’s name and address.

I can’t believe my eyes – it is Ali’s address! The name is different, though. The blood rushes through my head and my heart is jumping out of my chest.
Oh my fuck! Please, please, please … let it be him …

The concierge is the same man, but I doubt he recognises me. The unpleasant thought about how many women Ali has fucked since our first session leaves a sour taste in my mouth. But the front door thrown open immediately after we buzz banishes my navel-gazing: it’s him …

‘Hi girls, you are right on time!’ he almost shouts through the ear-piercing music with his delicious smile, the image of which I’d carefully stored in my memory’s ‘forever’ file after I first met him.

‘Please come on in!’

The music is so loud we don’t even bother to respond.

I can see the pleasant surprise on Inna’s face; I don’t know whether it’s about the design of the apartment or our host.

The light in the living room is dimmed. The white designer coffee table, illuminated by the TV’s flashing light, is stuffed with liqueur bottles, packets of chips, cigarettes, and a beautifully adorned silver tray of white powder.

Inna and I settle on the couch. The guys are already pretty tipsy. While organising us some drinks, they explain the occasion.

‘This is my best buddy, Ersin,’ Ali utters with a smile, fondly squeezing and shaking Ersin’s shoulders, ‘and today is his birthday! So you ladies will help me make it a really special night for him.’

They both giggle, and before I know it, Ersin drops onto the couch next to me, handing me a glass of bubbly, while Ali settles next to Inna.

The pulse in my head starts painfully to strike – either Ali is so drunk that he doesn’t even recognise me, or his friend liked me more than Inna and he is just too much of a gentleman to spoil Ersin’s birthday present.

Crap! I sound like Lena already …

The next thing I see is Inna and Ali smooching and groping each other. And before I even get the picture, Ersin is pulling me into the bedroom …

The birthday boy takes off his jeans, pulls off my top, and, after a few kisses and grabs of my nipples, puts me down on my knees and pushes his hard cock into my mouth. ‘Suck it, baby. I want to come in your mouth.’

I do as I’m told, like a zombie. The jealousy drowns me in rage and hurt; all I can hear are Inna’s loud sex breaths and screams in the next room.

‘You are not in the mood?’ Ersin asks me while lifting me up off the floor and throwing me on the bed. Then he climbs on top and fucks me until he comes. An unstoppable hot stream of tears runs down my face, which I don’t even try to wipe or hide. I don’t care about anything but those noises. Ersin doesn’t notice them anyway until the moment he rolls off me. ‘Oh … you liked it too …’ he says with a satisfied smile. ‘It’s okay, don’t worry, I’ve seen that before – your tears are from the strong orgasm you just experienced …’

Swollen-headed idiot!

We wait for some time, until the other room goes quiet, then we dress and walk out. Ali is lying on the couch wearing only boxers; Inna, naked, picks up her clothes and goes to the bathroom. I can’t look at them. I am scared I will start crying again right there, in front of him.

Ersin takes my hand and pulls me to the couch, makes me sit down, gives Ali five and exclaims, ‘Wow, buddy, the best birthday present ever!’ They both start laughing.

Inna comes back all dressed, pours herself another glass and addresses me with a smile: ‘Are we all paid and ready to go, Victoria?’

Ali gets up and searches in his pants pocket for the money, then hands it to me.

‘Victoria, I will give you an extra fifty if you say now that I was a better lover than him.’

They start laughing loud again, and Inna exclaims, surprised, ‘What are you talking about? I didn’t know you two knew each other?’

All I can feel are the pulsing strikes in my head and the hot tears on my lips again. ‘Fuck you!’ I throw the money into Ali’s face and storm out of the door.

‘What the hell happened there?’ Inna’s stunned voice is almost screaming when, a few minutes later, she finds me sitting and crying on the sidewalk in the parking lot behind the building.

‘Are you insane? Why did you throw the money at him?’

I say nothing and she hunkers down in front of me, removing my hands from my tear-stained face. ‘What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me …’

‘Don’t you get it? I daydream about this bastard for the whole month but he chooses you!’ A new stream of blubbering muffles the end of my sentence.

‘If I’d known you knew him and had feelings for him, I would never have done anything like that,’ Inna exclaims. ‘I am sorry, Jul, I wish I’d known … Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘When I realised that the bastard didn’t even recognise me it was too late. Besides, what could I say? It was clear he wanted to fuck you …’

‘Okay, Jul. Let’s find a cab and get out of here.’

She gets up and pulls me up too.

‘Please don’t cry. He is a jerk!’

She sighs and hugs my shoulders.

‘Although I completely understand why you were so carried away by him. He is a great fuck … But Jul, you are not sixteen any more. You can’t act like you are, and because of bullshit like this throw away the money we work so hard to earn.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I just lost it …’ I reply, feeling guilty.

‘You know what?’ Inna smiles to me as we get into the cab. ‘Let’s stop at the grocer on the way home and get some cheesecake and ice cream. It’s the best panacea for any love-related blues, and luckily does not require a prescription.’

‘I am not in love, Inna! What nonsense!’ I protest with a weak smile.

Then why the hell I am so attached and emotional? I’ve only seen this guy twice in my life but I’ve never felt anything like this before?

When we get home, we take a quick shower, jump into bed, drink some wine, eat our asses off, watch some Russian comedy that Inna chose ‘to help the healing process’, and fall asleep.

The melody of my cell phone wakes me up. Although it feels early, I assume it’s at least midday.

‘Hello,’ I answer, without even looking at the number, trying to clear my throat at the same time. The noise that comes out of me makes me sound more like an ogre than a 19-year-old, 49 kilogram woman.

‘Hello ... Victoria? Can I speak to Victoria, please?’ The voice makes me jump off the bed.

‘Yes, it’s Victoria speaking.’ I sound a little better and he recognises me. ‘It’s Ali … from last night. Please don’t put the phone down. I know you are upset with me but that’s why I’m calling you.’ He hesitates for a second. ‘I found your number in my cellphone. If you remember, you called me for directions the first time we met, a month ago.’

He pauses and I stay quiet too. My heart beats so loudly that I am scared he will hear it.

‘I wanted to apologise for what happened last night. I acted like a jerk … I guess. I didn’t know I was hurting your feelings.’

‘No worries, even though you did act like a jerk. Apology accepted.’ I try to talk without my voice getting neurotically squeaky. ‘Anything else?’

‘Yes. I was wondering if you would give me a chance to apologise in person. Would you consider having a dinner with me?’

‘Yes, I would.’ Damn. I answer too quickly and my voice does squeak.

‘How about tonight? Are you available?’ I can hear him smiling on other side of the line.

‘Okay!’ Damn my voice again!

‘Alrighty then, great. I will see you around eight?’ I hear relief in his voice too, so despite his un-fucking-imaginable confidence he was nervous about calling me.

‘Okay, great. Let me know where.’ And I hang up.

‘Why are you smiling?’ Inna is standing in front of me.

I put my phone down and figure I have a stupid I-am-in-love expression on my face that is absolutely uncontrollable at this point.

I switch on the kettle, trying to wipe the stupidity off my face, but it seems it’s not working.

‘Ali called and invited me for dinner!’ Now I sound like an out-of-tune violin in the hands of a five-year-old.

Inna takes a seat on the kitchen stool. ‘Look, Jul, like I said, you are not a schoolgirl any more and you know what to do, but I feel like I have to warn you anyway.’ She pauses. ‘I am not a mentalist, but from what I’ve seen of Ali, I can assure you, he is not good for you. I especially wouldn’t trust a man who uses drugs. You are going to get hurt.’

She pauses again, this time waiting for me to respond, but I stay silent.

‘I am not your mom,’ she continues, with a more annoying concerned look on her face, ‘and don’t want to lecture you …’

‘So don’t!’ I rudely interrupt her and get two cups from the cupboard.

‘Okay, Jul, do what you want to. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ She heads to the bathroom.

I snap ‘Whatever’ at her and quickly type a text to Alexandra saying that I am not feeling well, so she mustn’t count on me tonight.

Hi my Poppy-seed,

I was happy to get your letter today
! Don’t be lazy Jul. Write to me more often. You know we miss you and worry about you a lot

Our first night here was a complete disaster!

Just before the shift our boss gave us instructions about the rules of the club, repeating that it’s an absolutely sex-free zone (by the way, totally in French
). Then a few hours later, while I was sitting at the bar a few steps away from him and Melissa, our barwoman, I opened my purse to get a tissue – and a pack of condoms fell out onto the floor. Our boss, as a real gentleman, quickly leaned down to pick up what I had just lost. Oh my … you should have seen his face
!