‘Have you ever…?’
‘No.’
My foot traces the floor. ‘Never wanted to?’
‘Never had an excuse to.’
Good lord.
I put my hands behind my back, like a Victorian gentleman. ‘Would you…?’
‘Get naked?’
‘Yeah.’
Sam ponders. ‘Probably.’
This is dangerous territory. But I need to find out what friendship I can rekindle with Sam. Hopefully one that is fun, cheeky and adventurous. Just like our younger years.
I definitely don’t want to see him naked, by the way.
‘You know, I’ve got a rooftop pool, if you ever wanna join.’
Sam laughs. ‘You’re funny, Will.’
‘Had to try.’
We walk slow, enjoying the heat.
‘I didn’t say no,’ Sam says, after a few moments. ‘I just don’t have swim shorts.’
‘It’s a nudist hotel,’ I remind him.
‘Let’s wait to see if we can fit it in. We’re on a schedule.’ Sam taps the side of his temple. After buying two bottles of ice-cold water, he points to the mountain where the Parthenon is visible atop the Acropolis. ‘Ready for a hike?’
‘Always,’ I say, even though when someone suggests a hike to me, I usually suggest they fuck off.
At first, the walk to the Acropolis isn’t that bad. It’s all cute streets of shops selling bracelets and statues and lovely-looking linen. We pass old ruins of a library, while cats loll in the shade, evading the heat. There’s even a pretty courtyard coffee shop that I ask to go into on the way down, but Sam wrinkles his nose as if it’s some rival.
But then life makes an enemy of us.
The road begins to slope, incline ramping up towards Athens’ preserved history. Sam walks ahead, his stride unaffected. How does he do it? My breath hitches in my chest; the cold water is the only thing that keeps me going.
Gravel crunches under my feet, thighs burning, and every time Sam looks my way, I plaster my sweating face with the most nonchalant expression I can muster. When did I get so unfit?
I clutch a railing on a particularly steep set of stairs, heart pounding, feet slipping.
We emerge onto flat earth, and I want to do a Katy Perry and kiss it. Fuck going to space. This is high enough. I hunch over, bracing myself on my knees as a man plays a guitar, singing ‘Make You Feel My Love’. When I look up to see how much further we’ve got to go, Sam stands before me, hand outstretched.
My hairs stand on end with the chill that runs over my skin, despite the heat and the sweat of the climb. I take Sam’s hand, allowing him to steady me.
‘You did it,’ he says, giving me an encouraging slap on the back. ‘Just up there is the entrance.’
The walk to the entrance is slow, Sam by my side. The singing man’s dulcet tones fade away, but stays with me. That song feels too special for such a moment between two friends.
Sam pays our entry, and even at the top of the Acropolis, we still have to climb.
I pause at the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, looking out over Athens.
