July 13, 2018

"I can't sail today, Sylvie," Véro told me two days before the first race of the regatta.

"Why not?" I asked her. Normally, I would have been okay with skipping today, since she and I had both gotten a lot better over the last few weeks, but my cousins were coming tomorrow. We had to sail today if we wanted to get one last practice in before the regatta started.

"It's kind of a long story," Véro said.

"I want to hear it," I said.

"So Papa won some radio contest and got a free Segway tour of Green Bay," Véro explained. "Maman already has plans for today, so I agreed to go."

"That wasn't actually that long of a story," I said.

"Yes, you're right," Véro said. "Anyways, we still need one other person to come with us. Do you want to go, Sylvie?"

I thought about it for a few minutes. A part of me wanted to use this time to practice sailing, even if Véro wasn't coming along. Then again, sailing wouldn't be the same without her. I would spend all of my time missing Véro's soft kisses and the way she swiftly pulled on the sheet line, and I wouldn't be able to get anything done. It would be better to spend this day with Véro, even if we weren't on the water.

"I'd love to go," I told her.

"Great," Véro said. "We leave in an hour. I'll meet you outside of my house."

"Sounds great," I said. "I'll see you then." Véro gave me a quick peck on the lips, and I went back into my house. I was going to watch TV, but Everett was engrossed in some video game, and when I asked him if I could play, he immediately said no. Frustrated, I went into my bedroom and read a book for the next hour.

At ten o'clock, I found Véro and her father waiting for me in front of their house. "Hello, Sylvie," Mr. Arkoun said. "It's nice to see you again."

"It's nice to see you too," I said.

"Are you two ready to go Segwaying?" Mr. Arkoun said.

"I don't think that's a word, Papa," Véro said.

"In America, you can make anything into a word if you want to," Mr. Arkoun argued. "So are you ready?"

"I guess so," Véro said as she climbed into the backseat of her family's car. I followed her, and as soon as Mr. Arkoun started driving, I knew that this was the start of a wonderful adventure.

On our way to the city, Véro talked about her friends in Paris and played some obscure music that I had never heard before. For the first time, she didn't seem particularly sad about leaving Paris behind. She talked about her old friends and told me stories of them running around the Louvre and making fun of tourists without showing any sign of loneliness or regret. "It's all in the past now," she said when I asked her if she still missed her old friends. "Now, I have you."

"That's nice of you to say, Véro, but I'd miss you if I had to move across the world," I said. Then again, I couldn't really imagine moving out of Clearwater Lake, much less to a whole new country.

"You would find someone new," Véro said. "Everything in life is fleeting, Sylvie."

I didn't like that idea. Now that Véro and I were together, I didn't want to lose her, but in the end, she was right. I couldn't stay in this moment forever, no matter how much I wanted to. The world was constantly changing around me, and I had to change with it. I reached for Véro's hand and clasped it in mine, hoping that I would never have to let Véro go.

As we left Clearwater Lake, the lake itself disappeared from view, and the buildings grew larger. We passed by both East and West Clearwater Lake High Schools, and we drove right through the Oneida reservation before we headed into the city. Green Bay always felt like a big city to me, even though it was tiny in comparison to New York or Chicago, or even Madison or Milwaukee. Much of the city looked exactly like downtown Clearwater Lake, but there was the occasional landmark that reminded me that we were in the city. A trip into Green Bay always felt special to me, no matter how many times my family went there.

Mr. Arkoun found a place to park, and the three of us found the building where we were supposed to pick up our Segways and meet our tour guide. After signing a few waivers, a young, dark-skinned woman approached Véro, Mr. Arkoun, and I. She introduced herself as Stephanie, and she quickly taught us how to ride our Segways. Then, we set off on our tour.

The tour itself wasn't all that interesting to me, but Véro and her father seemed enraptured. Stephanie told us all kinds of pieces of history that I already knew, but everything was new for the Arkouns. I did enjoy Segwaying (as Mr. Arkoun put it) around the city, and I loved watching Véro's eyes light up when Stephanie said something that she found particularly interesting. It didn't matter that I already knew every piece of trivia that Stephanie said when I could watch Véro clumsily steer around corners and smile when she finally figured something out.

"This is all your fault, Sylvie," Véro said. "Your sailing has messed up my sense of direction."

"I'm sorry, Véro!" I exclaimed, knowing that Véro wasn't the only one that was struggling. I could never quite get to full speed on the Segway - my reflexes were better than ever, but sailing had screwed up my sense of direction.

After several hours of touring Green Bay, we reached the highlight of our tour: Lambeau Field. "I'm confused," Mr. Arkoun said as we approached the stadium. "I thought that this was a football stadium."

"It is a football stadium," I explained. "It's where the Packers play."

"It does not look like a football stadium," Mr. Arkoun said. I gave him a confused look, and he said, "The football fields back home looked completely different."

"Papa, I'm not sure that you understand," Véro said. "Football in America and football in France aren't the same thing."

Mr. Arkoun still clearly didn't get it until several minutes later. "It's an American football stadium!" he exclaimed suddenly.

"Of course it is," I said.

"I thought that it was for real football," Mr. Arkoun said.

"American football is real football," I said.

Mr. Arkoun glared at me and said, "This is the one thing that I do not like about America. You do not understand the greatness of association football."

"You mean soccer," I said.

"No, I mean football," Mr. Arkoun said. "'Soccer' does not exist in my dictionary."

"Did you really think that Lambeau Field was a soccer stadium?" I said.

"Yes!" Mr. Arkoun said. "That would make more sense!"

"Sylvie, you're just making Papa angry. I wouldn't talk to him about American football if I were you," Véro said. "Papa, remember, France is going to the World Cup finals."

"Yes, I know!" Mr. Arkoun exclaimed, suddenly smiling. "We will definitely beat Croatia in two days. Our team is far better than theirs."

"He hasn't shut up about the World Cup since last month," Véro whispered to me as her father ranted about the superiority of the French soccer team. "He's probably going to watch the game instead of our regatta."

"That seems unfair," I said. "You're his daughter."

"Yes, but he has been waiting for this for a long time," Véro said. "He will surely watch the second and third regatta race, but France being in the World Cup finals is more important to him than a single, unimportant sailing race."

Even though I barely knew him, it made me sad that Mr. Arkoun wouldn't be there for our race. Yes, there were two more races in the regatta, but Véro deserved some moral support. Both of my parents would watch the junior regatta, and I would watch my parents compete in the regular regatta - it was a family tradition to support each other in our sailing endeavors. Apparently, that wasn't the same for everyone.

"I'm not worried about it," Véro said. "I'll have you."

"Thanks, Véro," I said. I still didn't think that I was a good replacement for her father's support during the first race, but frankly, Véro's family was none of my business.

When we arrived at the building where we were supposed to return our Segways, Mr. Arkoun was still talking about soccer. Stephanie simply nodded along, pretending as if she was interested in what he had to say. "Papa, I think it's ridiculous that you thought that Lambeau Field was a soccer field," Véro commented at one point, but at this point, Mr. Arkoun wasn't listening.

"I kind of want to take him to a Packers game just to prove that our football is better," I said.

"I'm staying out of this," Véro said as she got off of her Segway and leaned it against a wall.

On the way home, Véro, Mr. Arkoun, and I all decided to stop for dinner, but we weren't sure where to go. "Sylvie, you probably know some good restaurants around here," Véro said.

"All of the good restaurants were back in Green Bay," I said.

"What about that food you tried to give me the second time that I met you?" Véro said.

"Cheese curds?" I asked, trying to remember the incident.

"Yes, those," Véro said. "Could we get some of those?"

"I guess we could stop at Culver's," I said. Culver's didn't seem nice enough for the occasion, but I could never resist the temptation of ice cream and cheese curds.

"I will drive to Culver's then!" Mr. Arkoun exclaimed. "Véro, could you reset the GPS?" he asked, passing his phone to the backseat.

"Yes, Papa," Véro said as she set the GPS for Culver's and then gave it back to her father.

When we arrived at Culver's, Quentin Sterling-Stafford took our order, much to my irritation. I didn't exactly want to have to deal with Quentin, especially not with Véro around, but thankfully, he didn't cause any trouble. He simply took our order, and we found a spot in the back of the restaurant.

I ordered some cheese curds for the table, but I didn't get to eat any. Mr. Arkoun, like my father, ate most of the cheese curds, but Véro did finally get to try a few. "I can see why you like these," she told me.

"They're good, aren't they?" I said.

"Yes, definitely," Véro said.

"If you like those, then you'll like their custard too," I said.

"It can't possibly be as good as the ice cream that I had in Berlin," Véro said.

"You've been to Berlin?" I said.

"I went on a trip with my friend and her family to Germany two years ago," Véro said.

"That's really neat," I said. I was starting to wish that I could travel somewhere. I had no desire whatsoever to leave Clearwater Lake permanently, but it would be nice to visit Europe or somewhere else new.

"I suppose so," Véro said. "Maman and Papa never really took me anywhere."

"We were saving to go to America!" Mr. Arkoun argued. "I think that it was worth it, and now you can go wherever you want in America."

"You're right, Papa," Véro said reluctantly. "I'm kind of glad that I'm here now, but Sylvie is still the only good thing about this part of town."

I laughed, knowing that wasn't quite true. There were a million good things in Clearwater Lake, from the taste of chocolate ice cream to the way the sun reflected off of the lake water. However, none of those could ever compare to the moments that I shared with Véro Arkoun.