You Have Unlocked the Memory

      “Where are we meeting?”       “On the beach.”       “Where exactly? And how do I get there?”       “Hey, you can use Google maps. See you. I’m coming out.”       After exiting the dating app, I gritted my teeth and left the house. Somehow it’s not gentlemanly, he didn’t even come to pick me up. Are all Americans like that?       Calvin and I met a couple of days ago, when I had already arrived from Virginia down south to North Carolina. Our manager crossed the bridge, entering a 320-kilometer strip of narrow barrier islands called Outer Banks. Unlike the town of Virginia Beach with the population of 15 000, the town of Nags Head was small, boring and empty. The same type of summer houses looked beautiful, but they were very flimsy, and looking at them, I constantly thought that none of these cottages would ever survive the Russian winter.       We were given a key to our house with a huge living room that turned into a kitchen and four bedrooms. The joyful Mila was running around on the carpet, endlessly surprised at everything and filmed a video. Clutching a single thin key in my hand, I frowned. At home, each of us always had our own set of keys, consisting of the key to the intercom, the upper simple lock, the lever tumbler lock, as well as the inner door lock. The doors themselves were not wooden, which could be easily kicked out, they were with two metal sheets welded to the body and with a heat insulator. Living in this house, I could never be one hundred percent sure of my own safety.       The interior of the house was classically American, there was even a rocking chair, ancient cassettes, a whirlpool stove, and a separate room for a washing machine and dryer. Nags Head could be proud of only one attraction: its beach, which washed the Atlantic Ocean. The waters heated during the day were amazing in their vastness, the waves danced with the breeze, hitting the sand and crumbling into exquisite lace. The air in the town was so dense, humid and viscous that it was difficult to breathe. To us, the inhabitants of the steppes and dry climate, living along the banks of the river, the ocean seemed to be a place where time stopped, and the soul found extraordinary peace in the infinity of its expanses.       Mila, Alsou, and I downloaded Tinder back in Virginia Beach, they wanted to find guys, and I rather purely out of interest. If I came to the other side of the world, can’t I even appreciate the men that the local market offered? Flipping through the endless photos with attached resumes, I couldn’t stop being amazed. Americans were not comparable to brutal Russian men, everyone looked tanned, muscular, curly and cute. The contingent did not change even when we changed the location. I liked a few guys, and I enjoyed talking with them, gradually getting into the local culture. To be honest, I wanted to practice my English more than I really wanted to find someone and go on a date. Moreover, I was a terrible coward who would never in my life go on a date with an unknown guy from the Internet.       Up to one case.       Alexey came to us from the neighboring town, Corolla, who had already tried all the delights of a young life with his new friends. We got on our bikes, rushed to the store and bought two boxes of beer. When returned, we turned on the music, began to drink and have fun. I don’t even remember at what point Lyosha ran into the living room all in towels, dressed like a Sheikh, and I was right behind him, also in towels. A second later, Mila joined us. We danced on the table, and our party was most likely heard throughout the neighborhood. Flimsy American houses did not delay sound well.       On Tinder, I was rushing between two guys. A Jordanian named Rakan, who, obeying the Arab tradition, flirted a lot, was pleasant and charming, and also offered to stop by himself, take me to a cafe and treat me to food and drinks.       The second one was Calvin. The guy I liked for a joke, because in all the photos he was standing next to his father, and at first it was unclear who I was talking to anyway. Calvin was a simple, friendly American who was approved by Mila, Alsou and all my university classmates. He seemed safe.       I decided to try both of them. But I accidentally set both dates for the same day and the same time. Obviously, the choice fell on Calvin. If a person as full of fears as I needed to take risks, then I would choose the least risk.       When I got to the beach, I looked around. And this is the place he suggested I look at on Google maps? He didn’t even send a specific mark or identification mark. I was afraid that I would not recognize him, having forgotten how he looked in the photo, and I would pass by; I was afraid that he would not really come, and I would have to return home with nothing. I was afraid that he would turn out to be a maniac or a human trafficker, and I would disappear forever in another country. No one will even be able to find me.       But by a miracle we met. Calvin was walking slowly towards me, dressed only in shorts and sunglasses.       “God, how indecent!” I screamed in my mind. “This overly simple guy showed up on a first date with a girl half naked. It’s unthinkable!”       “If I saw you for the first time and didn’t know who you were,” Calvin said, smiling. “I would immediately say that you are a foreigner. Who wears sneakers to the beach?”       I looked down at my mint sneakers and chuckled. I couldn’t let my feet get dirty, especially on the first date, so I refused to wear sandals.       It was his birthday. Or the day before. And he seemed to have a cat. I smiled and laughed as I listened to his stories, straining all the convolutions of my brain to understand the exact meaning of all his words. It was my first week in the USA, and I was still having a hard time understanding spoken language. Listening has always been my weakest point. I understood him about sixty percent, but that was enough to just listen to him.       Calvin prepared himself by laying his clothes on the sand to make it comfortable to sit, and also taking out White Claw, an alcoholic drink with a faint sweet taste, from his backpack. It felt strange in my mouth, probably worse than our Garage or Essa. But I enjoyed the evening anyway.       I learned from his stories that he loved the oceans and that’s why he came to Nags Head to celebrate his birthday here. The charm, which was not recognized in Tinder chat, flowed over the edge in person.       When he took out a paper-wrapped tube that looked like a cigarette, I lost a little confidence in myself. The guy I saw for the first time in my life handed me a joint, and I’d never smoked in my life. A whole battle of thoughts unfolded in my head.       I really wanted to try it and it was hard for me to refuse people I liked. What if something happens to me? If I fall unconscious? Will Calvin take care of me or take advantage of me? Could I, after talking with him for a couple of hours, entrust my life to his hands now?       “Oh, but I’ve never smoked. Will you teach me how to do it?”       “Not once?” Calvin was surprised. “Are you sure?”       “Yeah.”       “Ok, look.”       “I took a drag. My throat burned, and my chest ached so much that I was ready to suffocate and die.”       “Maybe this was a bad idea,” I thought, taking the bottle of water from Calvin’s hand. But it was too late. The world has turned upside down. It was like we were speaking the same language now. I did not notice how it got dark, a small wind rose, and the ocean rustled, kissing the shore with its cooled waves. Devils were playing in my body. And Calvin had a beautiful body, a chest without a single hair, and a perfect thin-skinned face on which it was impossible to see a single flaw. The timbre of his voice and his charming smile made me dizzy. After drinking two bottles of water, I really wanted to go to the toilet. Maybe he did too, I didn’t hear his answer well. Taking hold of his hand, having lost the feeling of the firmness of the earth under my feet, I wandered with him, guided by his confident steps. We went to his house, which he rented for the weekend. Losing my balance, I fell over and if Calvin hadn’t caught me, I would have fallen straight into the noisy night ocean.       “I want him badly,” the thought was spinning in my head. “My insides are turning over.”       When we got to his place and reached our goal, I enjoyed spending time on the toilet, and when I came out, I saw Calvin with a bag of sweets.       “I want you to try American candies and tell me which ones you like best. Here, my favorites, this is Reese’s.”       American candies have already managed to impress me with their excessive sweetness. But I lied that I hadn’t tried it. His offer turned out to be very nice to me, and I decided to play this game.       “Too sweet” I replied, tasting. “But these are not bad, I like them.”       “Try these too,” Calvin continued to slip new ones.       I hardly remember what happened next. The overwhelming state continued to keep me between sleep and reality. The phone vibrated, and a message from Mila flashed on the screen.       “Where are you? Went on a date and disappeared, are you okay?”       “Yeah, it’s cool, I smoked.”       “What?!”       I got up from my chair and walked around the living room. Calvin followed me up the stairs. We were talking about something, and then he kissed me. Gently and carefully, but with such precision and knowledge, as if he had done it a thousand times. Calvin was a very good kisser. I was ready to gift myself to him on the spot.       But I had to go home. I wasn’t prepared for tonight.       “Will you call an Uber or will you walk like this?” he asked, upset.       “Walk by myself? In this dark?” I was genuinely outraged. “You just have to walk me out.”       We kissed all the way, hugging as if we hadn’t seen each other for a long time and would never see each other again. Either the devils were still playing in my body, or Calvin really seemed to be the dearest person on the whole planet at that moment.       “Shall we exchange numbers?” he suggested when we were already standing at my house.       “Sure.”       After writing down my number, he tried to make a call, but nothing happened. Then he sent a message, but it didn’t arrive. I could feel with my skin his insecurity and awkwardness. These were real communication problems, and I felt terribly ashamed.       “Well,” said Calvin, who misunderstood the situation. “At least you’ll have my number.”       “Then let’s exchange Instagrams.” I hastened to smooth things over. “You have one, don’t you?”       “Of course.”       “Then, shall we chat again?”       Calvin smiled.       “Sure.”       “Good night.”       “And you.”