Erasing Faith(16)

I’d been doodling on the edges of my notebook for the past hour while Professor Varga droned on in heavily accented English about King Andrew II’s Golden Bull of 1222. Apparently, as the first edict in European history to limit the powers of a monarch, it was significant enough to take up a whole class period.

Yada, yada, yada.

Snore.

I felt my phone buzz in my bag. In an attempt at stealth, I slipped it from the side pocket and glanced covertly at the screen.

Margot: Hey! I have a surprise!

Faith: I hate surprises.

Margot: You’ll like this one! It involves college boys and alcoholic beverages!

Faith: ….I’m listening.

Margot: Study Abroad Student Mixer! Tonight in City Park! It’ll be fun!

Faith: I don’t know. It’s my one night off from work. I was planning to relax.

Margot: Oh, come on! It’s Friday night! You won’t regret it! I promise!

Faith: Are you aware of how many exclamation points you use while texting? Because it’s a lot. Like, a lot.

Margot: Shut up. It starts at 6. You’re coming.

Faith: Okay(!!!) Sounds good(!!!)

Margot: I hate you.

Faith: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***

Városliget — otherwise known as “City Park” to those of us who’d only been in Hungary for a month and were still struggling to master basic pronunciation — was a sprawling, magnificent garden that made every American park I’d ever been to pale in comparison. Nestled in the very center of Pest, the immense, green public garden was home to many of the city’s most beautiful sights. From the stunning Széchenyi thermal baths to Vajdahunyad Castle, which was perched on a lakeside like something straight out of a fairy tale, the entire affair took my breath away.

I’d been here several times before, but never this late in the day. The weak light from the setting sun illuminated the walking paths, aided by hundreds of beautiful paper lanterns strung from light-posts and tree branches. There was magic, here. Wisps of childhood floated through the air and threads of long-forgotten dreams were called to mind as you strolled from one attraction to the next.

Tonight was a perfect, sultry summer night, and the park was a popular destination for twilight strollers. Scores of couples walked hand in hand, gazing up at the lanterns or wandering the botanical gardens with dreamy looks on their faces. Families with small children hurried down the paths, eager to get their sleepy young ones to bed after a long day riding the wooden roller coasters and the hundred-year-old Ferris wheel at the amusement park.

Margot and I meandered past a stretch of museums and eventually reached Heroes’ Square. I hadn’t been back since my chance encounter with the stranger last week and, as I peered up at the imposing statue of Gabriel, I felt the stirrings of inexplicable remorse deep within my chest. I wasn’t sure why I felt such a connection to the man I’d collided with — there was just something unforgettable about him. As though, once my eyes caught sight of him, they’d become so utterly fixated, they could’ve spent an eternity drinking in nothing but his image, and never felt a loss.

“Hey, you coming?”

Margot’s voice stirred me from my reverie, and I realized I’d drawn to full stop with my eyes locked on the archangel’s face high above. Shaking myself out of the trance I’d slipped into, I forced a smile and hurried to catch up with my friend.

“Sorry, got a little distracted.”

“You and your obsession with history.” Margot snorted. “Doesn’t all that stuffy old architecture and ancient art get boring after a while?”

I laughed. “As if studying languages is any more exciting. Who considers conjugating Hungarian verbs a hobby?”

“Just keep up, will you? At this rate, we’re going to miss the whole thing.”

I rolled my eyes. Margot had a tendency to exaggerate and was a total stickler when it came to being on time for events. “Margot, it started literally five minutes ago. We’ll probably be the first ones there.”

“Less talkie, more walkie!” she ordered, giving me a light shove toward the path that would lead us to the lake. I sighed, but allowed her to steer me along.

We walked for several minutes until the lakeshore came into view. A crowd of maybe forty people had gathered on one of the grassy banks, clustered around two rows of cocktail tables — a mix of young men and women in their twenties, most of them dressed far more formally than I was, in my casual jean cut-offs and summery top. As soon as Margot and I stepped off the path onto the bank, several sets of appreciative male eyes instantly clapped onto us and did a vertical sweep of our forms. I tried not to fidget, feeling insecure and underdressed beneath the collective weight of their eyes.

Abruptly, I had a very bad feeling that Margot hadn’t been entirely honest about our plans for the evening.

“I thought you said this was a study abroad mixer,” I hissed in her direction.

“Did I?” she asked, her voice all innocence.

“Yes.”

“Oops!”

“Margot, don’t make me torture you.” I glared at her. “Where have you dragged me?”

“It’s a twenty-somethings speed-dating night! I saw a flyer for it while I was out riding during my shift yesterday, so I called and reserved two spots for us!” She grinned at me. “I thought it would be fun!”