We talk about life plans. I mention Ph.D. dissertation ideas. "Don't you want to live life first?" she says. "Get a job, meet people, have different experiences?"
I'm still debating as we pull into Amsterdam Centraal.
The architecture is lovely. I take more photos than necessary of the canals with their bridges, bikes chained to railings. We follow the map toward where we think the Anne Frank House is. I idolized Anne Frank in third grade.
We find the Red Light District, which I genuinely wanted to see. No photos allowed. Girls our age, younger, older dance in the windows the way girls dance in front of a mirror, laughing, playing. But these girls mean it. They live this way. They smile and crook their fingers to the men who walk by. It's noon.
Uncomfortable, but intriguing.
"Why isn't there a Red Light District with guys?" we ask each other.