Page 7 of XOXO

The girls and I exchanged numbers. I promised I would keep them updated, with no information left out and if I ended up in Milan, I needed to catch up with them. I left the tour with new friends and a date for tomorrow. It was the first time in months I didn’t think guiltily about my old life or wonder what Lorenzo or my parents would think. This trip was about doing things I would never do and all it took was two girls from Italy to jumpstart this new me.

2. Violeta

I need an energy drink and a neon sign for my clit.

The soft snores coming from David filled the room as I attempted to fall asleep again. His bed was hard, uncomfortable, and he was hogging most of it. He snored loudly, moving around before going back to his soft snores.

This was stupid. Why was I doing this to myself?

I got out of bed, looking for my clothes all over the room, finding the most important ones right next to me. The only piece I was missing was my shirt but I think I took it off in the living room. Grabbing my purse, I pulled out my phone and saw it was almost two a.m.

We had gotten to his apartment at twelve-thirty, made out and had sex in maybe forty-five minutes—I feel like that might be too generous—when he immediately passed out, telling me we could go out for breakfast the next morning. That felt like it was more than an hour ago. Leaving felt rude since he had offered breakfast, but David and I were best left at this tryst.

I pulled out my notepad, scribbling a message and signing it XOXO, leaving it on his nightstand. I slipped out of his room, grabbing my shirt and shoes, walking out of his apartment realizing I did not know where I was. My mood soured even more.

Maybe I should have waited for him to take me to breakfast and take me back to my hostel or at least close enough to walk. Sighing, I opened my phone to order a car. Thankfully, it only took them five minutes to get to me. This was the latest I had ever been out in London. The closer we drove to the hostel I was staying at, the livelier the city became. I grinned at the people still walking the streets laughing loudly and living their best lives. It was shocking to see that some clubs were still open at this hour.

Watching London this late in the evening felt like my trip was coming to an end. I had been here for almost a week. It felt like it was time to move on. The hostel was still a little lively as I made my way to the female dorm I was sharing with two other girls, who were already asleep when I arrived.

I quietly grabbed my toiletries and walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Staying with women was so easy, everyone was mindful of the mess and space. Once I washed my face and changed into pjs, I walked back to my bed.

“Violeta?” someone whispered.

“Yeah?” I turned to see the German girl whom I had forgotten her name, looking up at me sleepily.

“I was worried about you. Happy you made it back,” she mumbled, her accent thick from sleep.

My heart constricted with happiness.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to be out so late, but thank you for worrying,” I said.

“It’s ok, we women need to stick together,” she smiled.

“Yeah, we do, goodnight,” I said softly.

She went back to sleep immediately and I felt a little guilty that she had worried even though she didn’t know me. Climbing into bed, I opened my phone to book a train to my next destination. It was time to see more of England and maybe more men.

Leaving things to fate gave me so much anxiety, I almost chickened out of getting on a train to Salisbury. I did not know what was there, only that it was close to Stonehenge and the train ticket was cheap and at the time I wanted to leave. It was only an hour and a half away from London, which blew my mind because growing up in the US, it always felt like going anywhere took too long. I mean a ten-hour drive-in Texas and you were still in Texas.

I spent my first day finding a hostel and figuring out what I was going to do until I told myself that I was here to relax and stop worrying about the little things. My anxiety still lingered, but baby steps. That night as I laid in my lumpy hostel bed, I scrolled through Rendezvous, swiping right on a few of the men I found attractive and had a decent profile without women in their profiles.

My eyes felt heavy as the Rendezvous app pinged. It was the sound of a match. I opened my phone to see who the lovely app had matched with me. He was an engineer, and he liked hikes, nature and watching football—soccer football. As I was stalking his profile, he started a chat.

ManchesterU1996–Hey, you are beautiful.

XOXO22–Thanks. I see you’re a Manchester fan.

ManchesterU1996–Yeah, they are awesome. Are you a fan?

XOXO22–I like football. I’m more of an Argentina or Mexico fan.

ManchesterU1996–That’s cool. The World Cup is next year and Mexico has been doing well.

XOXO22–Here's hoping they make it to the end.

ManchesterU1996–Nah, England is going to win it.

ManchesterU1996–So, what do you like to do for fun?