Alternate version

“Let’s go?”

How long are these people planning to stay here? We agreed to go to Juris’s house, spend some time there with him, and I actually do want to catch up with Elīna. Make sure that Santa is bloody playing nice with her. But it seems that Artūrs has different plans, as he is already driving off, and Kristaps… I stopped questioning what he does a long time ago.

“Should we just meet there at nine?” Kristaps says. “I’ve got some small business nearby.”

Whatever. It’s only another forty minutes until nine.

“Fine by me. I’ll see you there.”

I get in the car and drive back to Rīga. It's not like its a long drive. Fifteen and a half minutes, to be precise.

I get out of the car and hear music.

Of course. The open-air dance thing.

I lock the car and look up at the building where Juris’s flat is. The lights are off, and I am not one to sit by the door and wait. Or should I just drive home? Bloody hate waiting around.

The shouting and music keeps echoing in the streets. I’ll just go and have a look at how the good people are celebrating Rīga’s birthday.

The closer I get, the louder the music gets and I also must admit the bigger my smile gets. When was the last time I attended one of these open-air dances? Some fifteen years ago and a teen. But the music is still the same, and by the time I reach the square, where people are dancing in front of the stage to live music, with lights going in all directions like in a club, I remembered why I used to like this kind of thing.

There are some chairs around the stage and dance floor, and also what appears to be a drinks stand and a snack stand. I walk to the dark edge of the square, where I can see everyone, but only the rather busy couple can see me. Or maybe not. I walk past them, as I don’t intend to disturb anything for the lucky couple, and stand on the far side of the square.

My little guilty pleasure, as it turns out, is being in the dark, listening to songs I haven’t heard for years and watching people enjoy themselves. I actually wouldn’t mind going to dance, but that involves talking to people I don't know. Not that that is ever a problem, but those times are long gone.

Should I maybe get a drink? I’ve got water in the car, but if I walk back to the car, I’ll stay there.

I walk up to the drinks stand only to find that they only have alcohol. So much for people having fun without drinking.

“Can I have just juice, without any alcohol? I’ll pay full price.”

The woman with dark hair looks at me, unimpressed. Maybe because I’m holding up the queue…?

“What juice?”

“Whatever you have.”

She pours something unnaturally blue into my cup, and I frown.

“And it’s a two-euro-fifty deposit for the cup.”

Deposit for the cup?

“Cool.” I take my phone out to pay.

“The two fifty needs to be cash.”

Cash? Where will I get cash?

“Just keep the two fifty and give me that radioactive-looking juice.”

Come on, people. That explains the queue of these people exchanging their cups for coins…

As I collect my drink from the woman, who seems rather unwilling to serve me, I turn around and see her.

Or am I seeing things? Did she mention what her plans for tonight were?

But that woman over there looks just like her. The coloured lights sweep across the crowd, but the second it crosses her face, I’m sure it’s her.

I stand there and watch her watching other people, holding her cup.

Is she here alone? Where is her friend?

Or her husband?

Two songs later, or by my calculations, approximately seven minutes later, she hasn’t moved. Not that I have moved. But I’m here alone. And it seems that she is too.

What a sweet coincidence.

I walk up to her and stand right beside her. Without looking at me, she takes a step away.

I take a step closer, but this time I bend down to whisper into her hair. “Enjoying yourself?”

She jumps, and before she knocks into the person next to her, my arm is around her again, pulling her towards me.

“Careful.”

She looks up at me and smacks her palm into my chest. “You scared me.”

She is welcome to do that again. I’ll have a bruise there from her kick anyway.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say, again speaking into her hair.

Her hair smells so fresh, I want to put my whole face in there. She looks at me again as if she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“I asked if you wanted to come and dance with me.” That is not what I asked her, but I’ll see if she’s just pretending she didn’t hear me.

And I do want to dance. And she is here. Almost a stranger, but not quite.

She beckons me closer with her index finger. I bend down again, and she puts her palm against my cheek to turn my face to the side. Then her warm breath meets my neck.

“I do not dance.”

Those words… no, it’s not the words, but whatever it is, I need it again. Those are some pleasant goosebumps.

This speaking into her hair is really not too bad.

I move her hair behind her ear and say, “I don’t believe you.”

I really don’t. I’ve seen her walking, and I know that is not the walk of a person who doesn’t dance.

She gives me the stare and moves her hair back to cover her ear, but I can see a small smile on her lips just as she turns away from me.

I don’t mind this game.