|
hall full
of mirrors
—mirror maze.”
I snort. “They should add a mirror maze for, like,
Halloween.”
Pilot’s expression goes blank. “I’d be so down for that.”
“Maybe they have a suggestion box,” I add. His head kicks
back with a laugh. I bite down a pleased smile.
Babe veers off toward the blurry, foggy-ish mirrors, and
the three of us beeline after her. Once we’re all in front of a
mirror, Babe frames up a mirror pic. In the Hall of Mirrors. I
stick my hand up and do a queen’s wave.
“It’s like the Mirror of Erised!” I grin.
Babe laughs. “I’m not seeing what I desire.”
Room by room, we wind through the palace. We see Marie
Antoinette’s bedroom, and where King Louis the somethingth
slept. We see a painting that literally takes up a ballroom-sized
wall! I’ve always thought of palaces like castles, I guess.
Stone and cold, ancient-looking—nothing like the ridiculous
grandeur we tour through.
Then comes the backyard. I know backyard isn’t the right
word—it’s more like an endless expanse of park, complete
with a lake, fountains, hedges, and statues. It looks like photo-
shoot heaven. Park heaven. It’s like an ocean in park form; you
can’t see an end, there’s
no edge
! It just keeps going.
I don’t know how long we’re out there making our way
through the jumbo-sized courtyard and taking pictures with the
different landscapes. We meander farther and farther in until
we reach a café where we stop for lunch. I could frolic around
this place forever.
“So are you, like, into photography?” Pilot asks as we make
our way back to the RER.
I turn to look him in the eye. “Yeah, it’s one of my things.”
I smile.
“Really? You’ve never said anything about liking
photography.”
“Well, it hasn’t really come up, and it’s more of a hobby.”
“You do take great pictures; my mom loved all the ones
from Rome.”
I chuckle. “Glad to hear I have your mom’s approval.”
“You need one of those nice pretentious cameras.”
“I’d love one of those pretentious cameras. One day!” I
smile up at the sky longingly and then drop my eyes back to
Pilot. “Are you not into photography?”
“I mean, I appreciate a good picture. I respect that.” A grin
tugs at his lips.
“You’re a good co-photographer.”
“Co-photographer?”
“Yeah.” I turn my oversized grin away from his face. I
need a second without eye contact to gather myself. “I mean,
usually I end up having to give people lessons about how a
picture should be framed.” I turn back to gauge his reaction.
He gives me a funny look.
“Like, they don’t ask for the lessons. I kind of obnoxiously
teach them after they take a picture for me and it’s framed
poorly—like, I give them a mini-lecture and make them do it
again.”
Pilot laughs in disbelief. “What?”
“Yeaahhhh.” I look at the ground. “You didn’t get a lecture,
though, and you’ve taken quite a few pictures for me.”
When I meet his eyes again, he brings a hand to his heart.
“Wow, I’m so honored to have passed this secret photography
test.”
I look away, trying to get my expression under control.
“Mentally pushing you over again.”
He shrugs. “Sorry, mentally dodged you. Didn’t get me.”
A wave of giddiness roils through me, and I’m so
distracted that I trip walking up the train stairs.
“I’m so pumped for tomorrow, y’all. I’m turning twenty-one.
Shit’s gonna be amazing.” Chad’s voice snaps me back. I got
lost in a Pilot-related thought spiral while eating my quiche.
We’ve stopped in a French restaurant for dinner. Chad raises
his drink off the table, and we all clink our glasses.
“It’s gonna be great,” Babe confirms. “I asked the girl at
the front desk about the best area to go to.”
“I’m pumped to go to the top of the Eiffel tomorrow,” Pilot
adds.
Chad nods his head past us at something. “Check her out,
man,” he says in his bro voice.
I turn around to see a petite dark-haired girl walking over
to the bar to get a drink. I’m about to turn back and serve Chad
a dirty look when I notice the bartender. A woman with a
shock of red hair piled up on top of her head moves toward the
girl to get her order. It looks like plane/Starbucks lady? Why
the heck would she be—? The woman looks up, makes eye
contact with me, and winks.
“What the fudge?” I bellow, abruptly standing from my
seat.
“Shane…” Babe mutters, embarrassed. I turn to face her.
She thinks I’m about to yell at Chad. I glance at Pilot.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I look back at Babe, who’s silently urging me to
sit. I raise my eyebrows. “No, I, it’s not that. I know the lady at
—” I look back at the bar. She’s gone. There’s a guy there in
her place, talking to the dark-haired girl. I blink, shaking my
head.
What the hell?
“I— Never mind.” I settle back into my seat.
Why am I
hallucinating a middle-aged British woman
?
Back at the hostel, we split off to our separate rooms. Pilot
brushes his teeth and gets into bed. I take a ridiculously short
shower and snuggle into the single bed next to Pilot’s around
midnight. He’s asleep facing the door again.
“Night,” he mumbles as I settle in.
I yank the covers up to my chin. “I always think you’re
asleep, and you scare the crap out of me,” I mutter.
He turns toward me, wearing a mischievous smirk.
“Muahahahaha!”
We’re only a little more than a foot apart. I grab my pillow
out from under my head and whack him in the face. He snorts.
I pull it back under my head with a smile. “Night.”
Do'stlaringiz bilan baham: | 
