Christopher had signed up for the Model United Nations class at his high school to have the chance to meet intelligent young people who were also interested in debate and politics when he finally came to The Hague for The Hague International Model United Nations, which they all spelled THIMUN and pronounced “thigh-mun.” He liked the idea that no matter what happened, he would never see them again. After months of mentally populating The Hague with stimulating, liberal Europeans, he was finally close to meeting one.

He was riding the tram with his roommate, Justin, who had an uncle in Amsterdam and collected posters of Guy Ritchie films. Justin was still wearing the suit he had worn to the day’s debates, but with no tie. He had taken off his glasses for the night out, and every girl he met seemed to suddenly be beautiful. He was trying to engage a girl who introduced herself as Paula in conversation. Paula was wearing a pink tank top and Capri pants. Christopher stood with his hands in the pockets of his brown trenchcoat and stared out the window.

Several stops ago, the three of them had been alone, but now several Dutch adults wearing well-tailored suits and haggard faces took up most of the back of the car. At the last stop, an olive-skinned girl wearing a black leather jacket got on. Her short hair suggested she had shaved it and let it grow for a few weeks. Christopher tried to avoid staring at her. She looked like a stimulating, liberal European. He hoped Justin wouldn’t try to continue his conversation with the girl in the pink shirt, but he did. Christopher stared out the window with the words to a rock song repeating in his head, ignoring them.

 “Hey, you. Pull your pants up. Your underwear is showing.” The girl Christopher had noticed earlier, the stimulating European, spoke. Her voice was heavy with a thick accent, with a hint of Eastern European poetic intonation.

“If you don’t like it, don’t look.” Paula scowled.

Christopher took the opportunity to study his European girl more closely. She was wearing a silver necklace tight around her neck and had a small, pink scar behind one ear. He felt sure there was a story behind it set in some picturesque European village.