What Happens in Berlin Page 6

  For a moment, I was frozen with fear, but then I remembered my guidebook. I should be able to get back to the hotel if Johan dumped me, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Just then, he reappeared. “Come on, I think I found us a spot.”

  He took hold of my hand again, and because I didn’t want to get separated from him again, I let him. Johan tugged me through the crowd, finally stopping at a tall statue. I glanced up at the artwork, but I wasn’t sure what the wistful-looking woman was there to commemorate.

  “Up you go!” Without waiting to tell me what was going on, Johan wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me up onto the statue. I grabbed onto the woman’s shoe, scrabbling for a hold, while Johan followed me effortlessly up the monument.

  “Isn’t this illegal or something?”

  He laughed at me. “You are too funny, Joelle.”

  I started to retort, but I almost lost my footing on the sculpture. Suddenly, Johan’s arm was around me, holding me steady. I wanted to bat him away, but it was nice to feel supported. Still, this little outing was rapidly devolving into date category.

  “What are we doing up here, anyway?”

  Johan pointed out over the sea of people. “Look!”

  I followed his gesture and gasped, forgetting Johan’s hand at my side. People in brightly colored costumes danced down the street in front of us. “Is this the parade?”

  Johan grinned. “The Carnival of Cultures. One of the best things about Berlin in the summer.”

  Pulsing music filled the air. The people in the parade were dressed in all kinds of crazy costumes; some looked like birds, with feathers and all, while others were done up in gold lamé, like living statues. Still others wore brightly colored saris, looking like they’d been transported from India to the middle of the teaming German street. People walked on stilts, and fire-eaters thrilled the crowd.

  I’d never seen anything like it, and I was so wrapped up in the spectacle of the parade that I ignored Johan’s hand, warm against my waist. But when I turned to ask him a question, my smile slipped. The expression in his hazel eyes was intense, and I wished I could back away, but there was nowhere to go; we were still perched precariously on the statue.

  “Johan, I—”

  He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine. His kiss was warm and slightly wet, but the feeling of our lips touching wasn’t exhilarating. I let him kiss me for a second, but when he started to try to use his tongue, I pulled away.

  “Joelle,” he murmured against my hair, “you are amazing.”

  I shrugged, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t sound nasty. I settled on silence, and I tried to ignore Johan as we watched the rest of the Carnival of Cultures dance down the street, but I was uncomfortably aware of his body pressed against mine, and the way his thumb was tracing lazy circles on my back. Obviously, he’d gotten the wrong idea about us, but I wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  Chapter Ten

  Johan didn’t try to kiss me again, but I was still wound up by the time he dropped me off at my hotel. “Can we get together tomorrow?” He smiled hopefully at me, but I shook my head.

  “No. I’ll be busy helping with wedding plans.”

  “I’m sure Petra has that under control.”

  I tried to think of another excuse. “I should spend time with my parents.”

  Johan looked contrite. “Of course. I forget how much you love your family.”

  I eyed him curiously. “You don’t?”

  He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “I love Petra and my uncle. That is enough.”

  “What about your own parents?” The question slipped out before I remembered what he’d said about not living at home, and I regretted my words as soon as I saw the grim expression on Johan’s face.

  He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “I haven’t spoken to them for some time.”

  I probably should have dropped it, but I was curious. “How come?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Johan reached for my hand. “All that is in the past.”

  I gave him a quick squeeze. “I’m glad you aren’t alone,” I said, thinking of Petra and her father.

  He looked into my eyes. “No, Joelle, I’m not alone. Not anymore.”

  I dropped his hand like it had burned me. “Well, thanks again for today.”

  “Joelle—”

  I looked back over my shoulder from the door to the hotel. “What?”

  Johan smiled. “I am glad you will be in the wedding. Maybe I will escort you?”

  I shrugged. “That’s up to Petra, I guess.”

  His smile broadened. “Then I will see to it that she allows me to be your date.” He gave me another wink before he turned and headed down the street, and I pushed through the hotel doors, frustrated. Still, a tiny piece of my mind wished I’d liked the kiss; it would be fun to have a little romance here in Germany, but the truth was, I hadn’t felt anything other than boredom when Johan kissed me.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like that, right?

  As if in answer to my question, a couple was pressed together in the stairwell, making out like their lives depended on it. I started to push by in annoyance, but then I recognized Petra’s light blond hair.

  I watched her and Charlie for a second, and my heart dropped. They really loved each other; that much was pretty clear from the way they went at it. As much as I hadn’t wanted to like Petra, it was obvious that she was in my brother’s life to stay. Nervously, I cleared my throat and they jumped apart, guilty expressions on their faces.

  Charlie smiled when he saw me. “It’s just you. Thank God, Joey.”

  “Who were you expecting? Mom?”

  Charlie shrugged, and Petra straightened her shirt, blushing. “Things are a bit more strict here in Germany when it comes to, how do you say, PDA?” Petra’s voice was soft, and I shook my head.

  “Whatever. You guys are getting married in a few weeks; is it really PDA when you’re engaged?”

  Petra smiled at me and looped her arm through mine. “Did you and Johan have a nice date?”

  “It wasn’t a date, but yeah, I had fun, I guess. The carnival was pretty cool.”

  Charlie slapped his forehead. “I’d forgotten it was this weekend. That would have been something cool to take Mom and Pops to.”

  I glanced up the stairs. “What are they up to anyway, do you know?”

  Charlie shook his head. “We were heading over to see, before we, er—”

  “Got distracted.” Petra leaned up to kiss his cheek, and now it was Charlie’s turn to blush.

  They were so cute it was almost disgusting. “Well, since I’m back, too, why don’t we see if they want to do something together?”

  Petra linked her arm through mine. “That’s a good idea. I’d love to spend more time with your family, Joey.”

  Charlie followed us up the stairs, his hand resting gently on the small of Petra’s back, and I felt a twinge of jealousy. What would it take for me to feel that way about somebody?

  Chapter Eleven

  The days passed in a blur of beautiful sites, wedding planning, and trying to avoid Johan. I did a pretty good job staying away from him, except for when Petra invited the families out to eat or shop or something, and when that happened, it seemed like everyone but me had decided that Johan and I were a cute new couple. It was annoying, but I managed to not be alone with him again, and given what Petra had said about Germans and PDA, I didn’t think there was much danger of Johan trying to kiss me again.

  The longer we stayed in Berlin, the more I enjoyed it. Sightseeing was really cool, but the city itself had a funky vibe that I loved. It was the kind of place I could actually picture myself staying for a while, and when the rehearsal dinner finally rolled around, I was depressed. I still hadn’t got Pops to agree to let me move on to Florence to meet Camie and Sarah, and after practically living in Berlin, I knew I wasn’t ready to go home.

  Wouldn’t it be great, I fantasized, to rent an apartment with
the girls in Italy for the rest of the summer? Traveling around had been fun, but I was surprised to discover that I liked staying put even more. Still, there never seemed to be a good opportunity to discuss my plans with my parents.

  Petra’s father had rented out a small art gallery for the rehearsal dinner, so it was really cool. Tables were set up among the modern sculptures and pop-art paintings, and the crowd of family and close friends were all impossibly chic. Johan was there, of course, but he seemed less inclined to get me alone; he was surrounded by a pack of his hipster friends, all corduroy coats, thick glasses, and colored hair, and they seemed to be having a lot of fun. I sat near the head of the table, in between Mom and Pops, but I wondered if I could sneak down to the “kids’ table” and hang out with Johan and his friends after dessert. Just because I didn’t want to date him didn’t mean I couldn’t spend time with him, right?

  The dinner was amazing, and I ate more food than I should have. I felt like I was about to burst when Mr. Hertzle stood up, holding a wineglass. The room fell silent, and he smiled at my brother before he began to speak. He started in German, but then Petra said something quietly, and he switched to halting English.

  “Tomorrow, my little girl will leave my nest. I am happy, but so sad at the same time. Happy to wish this couple well as they begin their new lives, and sad that Petra’s mother isn’t here to meet Charlie.” He raised his glass to my brother, tears in his eyes. “She would have loved you as much as my daughter does.”

  Charlie reached over and squeezed Petra’s hand, his eyes fixed on Mr. Hertzle.

  “I wish she could be here, but she is not, and so, Charlie, it falls to me to give my daughter away. Be good to her,” he choked, “and do not make her cry.”

  Charlie stood up. “I’ll try, sir.”

  He gave Mr. Hertzle an awkward hug, and then they both sat down. Mom sniffled beside me, and I glanced at Pops.

  “Should you say anything?”

  He hesitated a moment, but then he stood up, carrying his wineglass with him in imitation of Mr. Hertzle. Pops cleared his throat and looked across the table to Petra. “We haven’t known you for long, sweetie,” he said, “but we already love you. We’re thrilled that you will be our second daughter, Petra.” Instead of making me angry, his words brought tears to my eyes, and I clapped loudly as he toasted her. Petra beamed at him as she came around the table to embrace first Pops and then Mom. She gave me a squeeze, too.

  I hugged her back, but then I slipped down the long table and grabbed an empty chair at the edge of Johan’s group. They all had their heads together and were whispering fiercely, but a girl with purple-and-pink-streaked hair looked up and smiled at me. “Are you coming to the party tonight?” She looked familiar, and after a moment, I realized I’d seen her with Johan’s group before, that day at the train station. But tonight, she didn’t have her arm around anyone.

  My pulse started to accelerate. “What party?”

  She laughed. “Their stag party.”

  I looked back up the table at Charlie and Petra. “What, like a bachelor party?”

  “Of course! Only here, they will party together; nothing to hide before a wedding, right?”

  I laughed. If only you knew.

  Johan finally noticed me, and his smile brightened. “You’re coming with us, jah, Joelle?”

  I shrugged. “I guess. If my parents don’t mind.”

  A ripple of laughter swept across the group, but the girl with the crazy hair gave me a smile that made my heart flutter. “Leave everything to me.”

  Before I could stop her, she was out of her chair and across the room, leaning earnestly over my mom. I stood up to go hear what she was saying, but Johan reached for my hand.

  “I’ve missed you, Joelle. It will be good to spend the night with you.”

  His fingers interlaced through mine, and I swallowed. His words had been surprisingly intimate, considering all his friends could hear. Carefully, I extracted my hand from his grasp. “A party sounds like fun.”

  The girl reappeared. “It’s all settled. As long as you are back to your hotel before midnight, they have given their blessing.”

  I checked my phone. It was already ten o’clock. “Will that be enough time?”

  She laughed. “Of course not! But your brother and Petra will be there, and tomorrow is their wedding. Your parents would not do anything to spoil the wedding, right?”

  I nodded, not sure of where this was going.

  “So if you get in trouble, what will they do? It’s not like they can lock you up, and by the time your family goes home, perhaps they will forget to be angry.”

  I grinned at her. “I like the way you think. I’m Joey.”

  “I know. I am Vi.”

  “Vi, like Violet?”

  She shook her head back and forth, and a chunk of purple hair landed in front of her eyes. “It is appropriate, no?”

  I laughed. “Very. So what’s the plan for this party?”

  Johan slid an arm over my shoulders. “Dancing first, and then we will see.”

  I slipped out of his embrace, and I caught Vi staring at me intently. My heart started to race, and I sidled just a little bit closer to her as we followed the crowd, led by Petra and Charlie, out into the night. We’ll see, indeed, I thought, watching Vi out of the corner of my eye.

  Chapter Twelve

  The nightclub the group stopped at first was underground, literally. We took the U-Bahn a few stops, but then instead of climbing the steps back into the night air, we turned a nondescript corner down in the subway and passed a burly looking bouncer into a dark otherworldly party. Glow sticks flashed in people’s hands, and pulsing techno music filled the subterranean space. I’d never seen anything like it, and I stared, openmouthed, as we headed for the bar.

  Petra was already perched on a tall bar stool, laughing at something Charlie had said. I slipped up next to her and poked her on the shoulder.

  She turned, smiling. “I am so glad you will celebrate with us tonight, Joey!”

  I grinned at her. “This is a really cool place.”

  Petra nodded. “My cousin picked it. Very chic, jah?”

  I glanced at Johan, who puffed up with pride. “Very.”

  Charlie beckoned the bartender over. “What’s everyone drinking?”

  The group called out their orders, and then Charlie looked at me. “What?”

  “What do you want, Cuppa?”

  I shrugged. “Anything’s fine.”

  “Give her a screwdriver,” Vi’s voice came from right over my shoulder, and I looked at her, surprised. She smiled at me and dropped her voice. “My favorite.”

  My cheeks heated up, and I nodded.

  Vi chuckled, her eyes locked on mine. “I’ll have one, too.”

  The drinks arrived faster than I thought possible, and I wondered if Charlie had tipped the bartender in advance or something. When everyone had a glass or a bottle in their hands, Charlie lifted his in the air.

  “To my bride to be, and to all of you. We couldn’t get married without you!”

  There were cheers and laughter from our group, and other people around the bar started clapping, too. I clinked glasses with Vi and sipped the thick orange drink, studying her. It felt like she was flirting with me, but I wasn’t sure.

  She raised her eyebrow. “Well?”

  “Tastes like orange juice.” I kicked myself for saying something so stupid, but Vi just laughed.

  “You’ll feel the vodka later.”

  I took another gulp and inched closer to her. “Well, right now, it’s just juice.”

  Vi grinned and slugged the rest of her drink back. “Come on, let’s dance.”

  We headed for the dance floor, and I laughed at the combination of silvery disco ball and flashing neon lights. “This is a weird place!” I had to yell to be heard, but Vi just smiled at me.

  Our group began to disperse; some people joined us on the dance floor, while others stayed at the bar, talking an
d laughing. The music was fast and loud, and I felt my face heat up as I tried to keep up with Vi. The girl was a bundle of energy. The song shifted, but it was still fast, with a pulsing beat, and Johan slipped up behind me. I danced out of his way before he could put his hands on me, and grinned at him from across the circle. Vi threw back her head and laughed, dancing forward to slither against Johan for a minute, but then he ditched the dance floor.

  I started to giggle. “Looks like you were too much for him!”

  She chuckled, dancing closer to me and leaning down so I could hear her. “Everyone is too much for poor Johan.”

  My skin tingled from her nearness. “Want another drink?”

  Vi grabbed my arm and pulled me off the dance floor. “Of course!”

  We ordered another round of screwdrivers, and then another. The night passed in a blur of dancing and laughter, and somehow, a bunch of us ended up sitting on the floor in the back corner of the club, playing spin the bottle with one of Johan’s empties.

  My head was fuzzy, but I felt really good. It was as if all the things that had been bugging me since we got to Germany—Petra’s pregnancy, my brother’s rushed marriage, and Johan—all melted away, and I couldn’t really remember what had upset me before. I didn’t even mind when the mouth of the bottle pointed at me after Johan gave it a pathetic spin.

  He smiled as he leaned toward me, and I let him kiss me. His kiss was sloppier than before, but I figured that was probably because of how much he’d had to drink. It wasn’t awful, but even though he kissed me for a while, I didn’t feel any sparks.

  Someone whistled and I pulled away quickly. “Enough, you two! Keep spinning!”

  I reached for the bottle and spun it around. It whirled for a minute, and then it stopped, pointing right at Vi. I hesitated, but before I could spin again, Vi had crawled across the circle to me, cupped my face in her hands, and gently brought her lips to mine.