The house was silent. No sound except for the ticking of the rain on the window. Bianca looked at her mobile: 3 o’clock in the morning. She sighed and turned over. She was tired but her brain wouldn’t switch off. An idea was haunting her. An idea that excited her and scared her at the same time. Every night as she lay in bed, her mind ran through all sorts of possible scenarios. Whether she wanted it to do so or not.
She got out of bed. The floor was cold for her bare feet. Quietly, so as not to wake up her housemates, she crept downstairs. Maybe it would help if she had something to eat. She sat on the sofa eating a bowl of yellow custard, the only food in the fridge, and trying to clear her head. She tried to focus on her breath, but she was too restless to sit still. She wanted to go to sleep; she had an early class again tomorrow and she couldn’t afford to miss it. She grabbed the carton of custard and refilled her bowl, spooning the yellow stuff into her mouth without tasting it.
‘What’s up, sleepwalker?’ Bianca looked up and stared at Filippo, who was standing at the door in his jogging pants.
‘I can’t sleep.’ Filippo slumped down on the sofa beside her. ‘What is keeping you from sleeping?’ he asked, putting his arm around her. ‘I’m thinking of going abroad,’ she said shyly, ‘to Spain or maybe even South Africa.’ ‘But that’s great! I didn’t know you had it in you!’
‘I’m just scared that it won’t suit me,’ she explained, ‘that it will be disappointing. That I’ll get homesick, or that…’ Filippo shuffled closer. ‘If you don’t try you’ll never know. I also hesitated a long time to come to Wageningen.’
A little flustered by his proximity, but grateful, Bianca looked at him. ‘Sometimes you simply have to stand up to your fears,’ said Filippo. And kissed her on the lips.