Chapter Twelve ~ Pardon my French

      Apparently, travel made you smarter. I hadn't set any alarm yet, and I had finally gotten a full nights sleep without being woken up by the sound of demon hiccups at the crack of dawn.

      Checking my phone, I saw that it was around nine in the morning. I sat up straight in bed, stretching in the early morning sun filtering through the white curtains of my window. Deciding to stay in my soft, comfy bed a little bit longer, I sat back in bed, pulling the covers up to my waist, resting my back and head against the headboard. Scrolling through my phone, I debated where to go in my first day in Paris.

      The Eiffel Tower was out, until my last day of course. I knew I wanted to visit the Louvre Museum, but when I checked, tours had already been booked out for today. Frowning, I bought myself a tour for tomorrow morning from nine to eleven. Guess I'd have to set an alarm tomorrow.

      After swiping through a few more options of things to do in Paris, one thing finally caught my eye. The Palace of Versailles. I knew a little about it from ninth grade world history class back in America, enough to know that King Louis XVI and his wife, Marie Antoinette lived, and also were beheaded there. Marie Antoinette was one of my favorite historical women so seeing where she lived was a must for me. Sifting through ticket prices, I found one called Passport, which gave me full access to the Castle and the Trianon. It was only twenty-seven euros, or about thirty dollars in America. I quickly bought a pass for twelve. That gave me two hours to get ready, buy train tickets, and get to Versailles. Setting down my phone, I stuffed one hundred dollars in euros into my purse, and figured out what to wear.

      It is way colder in Paris than it was in Palermo, so I'm secretly thanking myself for packing warmer clothes. I picked out a light pair jeans, coming just above my now tanned ankles. Matching it with a fluffy, white off-the-shoulder sweater, I finished The cute look with, you guessed it, my scuffed up, white Chuck Taylors, and a pair of dangling, gold earrings.

     Satisfied with my cute, stylish look for today, I grabbed my purse, pulling it onto my shoulder, and headed for the door.
 
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     Skipping down from the hotel steps, I hopped happily along the roads till I found a bus-stop. Jumping into the first bus that pulled up, I quickly snagged a comfy window seat.  The bus whizzed by the beautiful sights of Paris as a silently watched.

     The many roses lining the picturesque streets blurred into streaks of pink, red, and yellow. Fluffy white cotton balls lazed through the piercing blue sky, while the golden sun warmed my face with its shining rays. I sighed, losing myself in the surreal ambience. 

     Pulling into the train station, the bus jolted me out of my daydreams. I walked off the bus, jumping from the last step. I followed the sign down to the ticket booth. It was about seven euros for a round trip to Versailles. I bought myself a ticket, and found a bench, waiting for the eleven-o-clock train to Versailles.

     After only five minutes, the train pulled in to the station, rails screeching and creaking. I hopped up the steps, searching for my much favored window seat. Finding an empty car at the very back of the train, I slipped into the last booth, setting my purse down on the small table in front of me. According to Google, the train ride was a little less then an hour, about fifty minutes. I settled into the comfy booth, and resumed my daydreaming.

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     The train pulled into Versailles, right on time. The doors in my train car dragged open with a wail. Grabbing my purse, I skipped down the steps, following the throngs of people up the dirt path to the Palace of Versailles. Up ahead, I could see tourist oohing and ahhing, pulling out cameras to snap pictures of something in the distance. Craning my neck to get a glance, I saw my first sliver if Versailles.

     It was huge, way bigger then the Palaces I saw in Palermo. Versailles was a creamy, off-white colored brick with golden finishes bordering the top and bottom walls. Columns lined the steps leading up to the large sets of  double doors through sprawling, green gardens sprinkled with colorful flowers and ornate topiaries. Fountains spouting crystal blue water, dancing in the air stood surrounded by walls of peonies and poppies. You could never see anything lime this in America.

      Snapping a picture, eagerly skipped through the fancy gardens, and through the double doors, into the Palace of Versailles.

     The interior of the Palace was incredibly ornate and decorative. Paintings of past Kings and Queens of France covered the walls, framed in golden borders. What wasn't covered by framed paintings was covered in murals and mosaics. For such big rooms, they were very bright, with hundreds of windows and golden chandeliers dripping with crystals hanging from the ceiling. I gasped, oohed, and ahhed my way through the Palace. I saw the Queen's Chambers, the Kings Chambers, and the Maids Chambers. I walked through the Royal Dining Room, the Royal Chapel, and the Royal Opera House. I gasped over the Coronation Room, the Congress Chamber, and the  Empire Room.

     Finally, I heard a man's voice call out, in English but with a sharp, French accent: " Follow me to see Marie's private quarters!" Scanning to find the man, I saw a crowd gathered around a young, hands- a normal, regular old tour guide. He looked about my age, with warm, brown hair and melted chocolate eyes. He was wearing a crisp, white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a pair of skinny, grey jeans. I found myself lost in those chocolate eyes. I dont know how long I was staring at him, but all of a sudden, I realized that he was staring right back at me! Immediately, I turned away, blushing. Refusing to look at the guide, I rushed after the departing tour towards Marie Antoinette's chambers.

      "If you look this way, you can see the Queen's dressing room, and over here, her bathroom." The your guide, Tory as I had decided to call him (Like 'Tour-y'. Get it? I'm such a dork!), continued his tour, but I could feel his brown eyes boring into my back. I was still blushing and avoiding his gaze after the fiasco earlier. Finally, I gathered enough nerve to look at him.

      He was in the middle of explaining the life story of some dead King, but his beautiful, chocolate eyes were locked on to my bright blue ones.

      "The King lived in the-" Tory stumbles over his words, blinked his eyes and shook his head. Tearing his eyes away from mine, he smiled, apologised, and continued his tour. I blushed, embarrassed to have messed up his tour. Come on Olivia! He's just another Zach. You're free now, you can't fall in love in Paris! I promises myself. But no matter how hard I tried, throughout the rest of the tour, all I could think about was chocolate.

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    It was later in the afternoon, and I was wondering around the gardens in the lazy afternoon sunlight. I sighed, enjoying the calm aura of the empty gardens. Back at home, I was always running around, from activity to activity. Here, I could stop and smell the roses, literally. Bending down, I scooped up a bunch of roses in my hands, burying my nose in their delicious aroma.

                "Beau, n'est-ce pas?"

      I screamed, and jumped up, immediately smacking my forehead with someone. The impact sent me right back down, landing hard on my butt.

             "Oh mon Dieu! Je suis vraiment désolé! ESt ce que ça va?" Tory exclaimed.

     I blinked, staring up at him, drowning in melted chocolate eyes.

           "Um, je parle anglais, et toi?" I feebly attempted to ask him if he spoke English.

            "Ah. You do speak English." He smiled at me. "Your French was terrible."

      I blushed, plastering a silly grin on my pink face.

             " So blonde, what's your name?" He asked me in accented English.

       "It's, uh, Olivia." I smiled at him. "What's yours?"

               "Pierre." Tory grinned. I guess I should stop calling him Tory. " I really am sorry about before!" His face fell.

       "It was no problem. I'm just really clumsy, trust me!" I laughed.

     It was quiet for a moment as we stared into eachother's eyes. I cleared my throat and we both quickly looked away, embarrassed again. Damn, what this boy did to me, and I just met him!

    "Here." Pierre offered me his hand, pulling me off the ground. I won't admit that his touch sent butterflies through my stomach.

     "Can I show you around the gardens, Blonde? Pierre asked. I guess he likes my blonde hair.

     "Um, okay!" I smiled up at him. He was a good six inches taller than me, and I only came to his sculpted chin.

      "Well, to your left, we have some flowers, and to your right, we have some more flowers, and oh look! More flowers!" I laughed at his pathetic tour.

      "That was terrible! Maybe you shouldn't be a tour guide."  I teased.

      Pierre looked wounded, clutching his hand to his heart. I laughed again.

       "Come on, tour guide!" I grabbed his hand, pulling him around the beautiful gardens.

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     "So you just up and left?" Pierre asked.

      "I mean, it may have been impulsive, but I'm having the time of my life!" I sighed.

     We were sitting on a bench, surrounded by colorful flower beds, overlooking a sparkling fountain. The sun hung low in the sky, pink and orange clouds floating idly by.

        "I suppose I would do that too." He replied.
 
     I had told Pierre all about what had happened, from the French quiz, to my anxiety, to the awful date with Zach, to which Pierre helpfully told me he would beat him up for me. There was a beat if silence, where I found myself missing my parents.

     "Hey Olivia." Pierre asked, suddenly sounding nervous.

     "Yeah?" I replied, holding my breath.

      "I-I was wondering if you would want to go to dinner with me tonight? I know a lot of nice places and it would be really fun. I would totally pay and y-" I laughed, cutting him off.

      "Pierre." I grinned.

      "Yeah?" He looked incredibly nervous, and embarrassed at the same time.

      " I would love to go to dinner with you tonight."  I answered, surprising myself. He smiled.
   

      

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