Romance In France
"I can't believe we finally graduated! I mean, it seemed like we would be in college forever!" Becky yelled at the top of her lungs. She ran excitedly down the narrow cement steps to the main entrance at Harvard University in Boston. Her best friend Trisha and she had just graduated from Harvard University, and were still in their blue graduation robes.
They were both 21, and had graduated a year early because they had enough credits. Both of them had been exceptionally intelligent for their age, ever since they started going to school together. Always on top of their class, they had graduated high school at the top of their respective classes. Trisha had always had a talent for journalism, and Becky had always had a thing for sports.
Trisha Marie Hampton, standing at 5'6" and weighing only 130 at 21 years of age, was never extremely athletically inclined. Although she played softball in college, she had never really excelled in gym or in any other sport. She had always leaned more towards a pen and paper or a book. This girl was the sophisticated type; quiet and demure. But when she was with her best friends, she could let her true colors show: wild, crazy, and free-spirited. Trisha also had deep blue eyes and sandy blonde hair that went down to her mid-back.
Rebecca Leigh Bonarek, on the other hand, was always well rounded. Taking advanced classes at an early age, she had always loved anything to do with learning. Math, science, and language arts had always been her best subjects. Being 5'6" and weighing 135 pounds helped with her athletic ability. Although she could never run as fast as Trisha, the girl had the perfect body for playing any sport, softball, soccer, and volleyball being her favorites. Becky also started writing poems and stories at a young age, though none of them ever saw publishing. She was fiery in attitude and spirit and always ready with a smart aleck comment or joke. She had crystal blue eyes that flashed or sparkled, depending on mood, and chin-length blonde hair.
Trisha stopped walking abruptly, put her hands on her hips in a motherly way and said, "What is your problem, Becky? We are adults, and should be acting like them. Come on, let's go back to the apartment. I promised we'd meet Jamy there."
Jamy Delilah Paige was about 5'2" and 105 pounds. She had soft brown hair that rolled gently down to mid-back. Her sea blue/green eyes were a perfect match for her soft, pale skin. Jamy was totally different from both Trisha and Becky (if that could be possible). She was actually more a mix of the two personalities. She loved to write, but always joined Becky on the playing field. She also loved to be crazed. When all three friends were together, something was going to be damaged.
"Fine, be that way. Anyway, I want to change out of these stupid robes. I am so darn hot! Plus they make everyone look like giant blue blobs from the deep lagoon. I hope we have a lot of junk food, because I'm ready for a Food-That's-Bad-For-You Feast!" Becky exclaimed as she stopped running and waited impatiently for Trisha to catch up. Becky tucked her hair behind her ears, pulled up her robes so they were above her knees, and hopped down the rest of the stairs. They then strolled through the almost deserted parking lot to Becky's forest green Ford Explorer and Trisha's silver bug. The pair drove the two miles back to the apartment the two had shared since their sophomore year.
Trisha and Becky had met in their first year of college when they had shared a dorm together. They were best friends instantly. The two had been best friends before, in fifth grade, but Trisha's family had moved to Branson and the families had never kept in touch. When they met again in college, they went back to being best friends. Their own mothers, Mary Ellen (Trisha's) and Pam (Becky's), had been best friends when they were little. Becky and Trisha's friendship had gone through its highs and lows, but they had always stuck together. In first grade, they met Jamy, and had been best friends with her since then. Everyone they knew and met came to call them The Three Musketeers.
Becky and Trisha were hoping for some really nice graduation presents from their respective families (hard works deserves some sort of reward). Becky would have liked something like a laptop (her last boyfriend stole hers), and Trisha longed for tickets to a 'N Sync concert.
'N Sync was one of the most popular singing groups of that era. Sometimes called a boy-band, 'N Sync sang in the pop category. Their smooth dance moves combined with their heavenly harmonized voices combined for a lethal mix against the competition. 'N Sync consisted of five men: Justin Timberlake (20), Joshua Chasez (23), Anthony Fatone (24), Christopher Kirkpatrick (25), and James Bass (21).
Justin Timberlake, the heartthrob of the group, was 20 years old, single, and had just graduated from high school. His curly blonde hair and crystal-clear blue eyes were alluring to any teenage girl. Standing at 6'2", he towered above the rest of his older group members. Always wearing something baby blue, he pranced around the stage with the expertise of a 30-year-old and the voice of an alto angel.
Joshua Chasez, arguably the second-favorite member of the group, stood at a good 5'11" tall. His suave brown hair, distinctive jaw line, blue eyes, and large nose made him one of the most recognizable single people in America. Sleeping, singing, and eating Chinese food were his hobbies, and he was the member voted "Most Likely to Sleep on Days Off" and "Daddy". He had earned the nickname "Daddy" because he was the one who always made sure everyone was ok with everything, and he was the one that worried about everyone's well being. Easily the best dancer in the group, he also sang alto.
Anthony "Joey" Fatone stood at a modest 5'11". Always changing the style of his hair, he was considered the "Fashion Guru" of the group. Currently, his hair was dyed neon red. His brown eyes, charming smile, Brooklyn accent, and flirty Italian personality captured girls' hearts. His tenor voice rarely surfaced in their many songs, but always helped to complete the harmony.
Christopher Kirkpatrick was easily the most outlandish and loud member of 'N Sync. Always ready with a joke or comment, he stood at 5'9", the shortest member of the group. His hair also went through its paces, but he had finally settled on short-cropped brown hair. His warm brown eyes and unique face made him look like a chipmunk, and his soprano voice suggested that he had not fully gone through puberty.
James Lance Bass, Southern Gentleman, was the bass of the group. Standing at 5'10" with his spiky blonde hair and green/hazel eyes made him the automatic "Hottie with a Body" and earned the nickname "Mississippi Albino". This bass man was deemed "The Shy One" because he wasn't out going and flirty by nature. But being around the other four men 24/7 had to rub off on him at some point. James was also arguably the second-favorite member of the group.
Now, what this all had to do with the two girls afore mentioned was still to be seen. They had no idea what was in store for them back at their apartment.
They arrived in the parting lot of the large apartment complex, parked their cars in the spaces nearest the entrance, and went inside to the elevator. The pair rose like a snail up to the fourth floor. Becky commented on how wretched the place looked. The matted carpeting was a deep shade of purple, and the peeling wallpaper was a sickening yellow with deeper yellow flowers. Even if the wallpaper wasn't originally yellow, it was then. The yellow lights accented the wallpaper and cast an eerie yellow glow upon all.
"Thank God our apartment is better looking than the hallway! Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to bring my boyfriends up here!" Trisha said while melodramatically hiding her head in her hands. They strolled to apartment number 357, and Trisha went digging in her messenger bag purse for the keys to the lock. She found them, put them in the lock, and turned them.
It was pitch black, and there were a few dark lumps that Becky didn't recognize.
"Did you get some new furniture in the last few days, 'cause it looks really strange in there," she commented before she entered. Becky turned to her right, groped around for the light switch, and flipped it.
"SURPRISE!" everyone yelled. Becky screamed, and so did Trisha. There, in the apartment, were all both of their families and their friend Jamy. Jamy just smiled.
Becky looked at Trisha and said in a hushed voice, "Did you have anything to do with this?"
"No! I swear! Did you?"
"Don't you think I would have told you about something like that? Trisha, I'm your best friend!" Becky exclaimed. She ran to her room, threw her coat and purse on the bed, and entered the main room. Becky's mom and Trisha's were on the blue couch, gossiping. Their dads were convening by the TV, talking about the Stock Market. Becky's blonde younger brother, Nik, was getting a Pepsi from a cooler in the corner, and Trisha's red-haired younger sister, Zoe, was getting pizza from the oven. Then Becky's mom got up and cleared her throat importantly to make an announcement. Everyone went quiet; no one wanted to feel the wrath of Pam Bonarek. Becky's mom and she were both fiery.
"Trisha, Becky. We thought we'd throw our little girls a graduation party. We are so happy that you guys graduated early; you two are just so smart! Right now, Trisha, Mary Ellen is going to give you her present. And I know you're going to like it, Honey!" Mrs. Banks said as she gave Trisha an one-armed hug. She had a slight quaver in her voice, and she was starting to tear up. Nik sat down beside her and gave her a small hug.
"Trisha, baby, your present is in that box over there," Trisha's mom said as she pointed over by the phone. There was a red and blue box about the size of a small book that had a gold ribbon on it. Trisha ran over, grabbed the box, eagerly shook it like a kid on Christmas morning, and tore it open amid small chuckles.
"Oh, my God! It's 'N Sync concert tickets! And keys! What are they for? And the tickets say that the concert is in Paris. What's with that?" Trisha asked, getting a little confused as she handled the concert tickets, two sets of keys, and both an American Express card and a Visa card.
"Well, Honey, the credit cards are credit cards, and we all know what they are for. The first set of keys is to your new car, and the second set is for a house that isn't quite finished yet," Trisha's dad Tim said.
"But what about the tickets?" Trisha questioned. It was evident that she wanted to know what was up. She usually wanted to be in control of all situations. She thrust the tickets into his face and placed one hand on her hips, impatiently waiting for an answer.
"Hold on, Sweetie! Becky's present answers that!" he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in only the way a dad's can. He pointed to the entertainment unit and said to Becky, "Your present's over there."
Becky cautiously walked over to where he pointed, and there was a larger pink box. She unwrapped it and gasped. The wrapping fell away to reveal two plane tickets and passports for a round trip to France, tickets to see 'N Sync in concert, two sets of keys, and, of course, some plastics.
"Oh, my gosh! Where did you guys ever get the money to pay for all this? Oh no, I'm going to have to review my French, and I don't remember any of it! Oh, my God, Trish! I can't believe we're going France! But what about Jamy? Isn't she coming too?" Becky asked worriedly, looking over at her brown-haired friend. She smiled as she stood and walked over to them.
"Yeah, I'm coming. I already got my present. I was in on this whole thing. I can't believe we're going to live together! In France!" Jamy squealed as they came together in a group hug. Trisha started to tear up a bit, and Jamy started to laugh shakily at her best friend's openly displayed emotions.
They pulled away as Mr. Bonarek said," Your plane leaves in two days. We made sure you guys had plenty of packing time." He smiled at his daughter. From his eyes, Becky could tell he was having some separation problems. She wasn't his little girl anymore, and he felt his age. Becky wound her way over to her father and gave him a reassuring hug.
"Don't worry, Daddy. I'll always be your little girl," She whispered into his ear. He kissed her on the cheek, and the party continued.
An hour later, their families left to travel back home, and they all went to bed very happy. Becky fell asleep with the thoughts that she and her friends would soon be in France, marveling at the sights that they had only seen in textbooks and heard about from teachers. The excitement coursed through her veins in the form of adrenaline and she wasn't able to fall asleep for quite some time.
Oh well, it would be fun, I guess, Becky thought while packing a few last-minute items in her carry-on. Trisha was in her room doing the same as Becky, and Jamy was in the family room, watching TV. Jamy had stayed overnight so the limo would only have to make one stop. Excitement wasn't a strong enough word to describe their feelings. They were gong to be living alone in a strange country, speaking a strange language, and meeting strange people. It was going to be life changing, and Becky for one didn't know if she was ready for it yet. She walked slowly over to her desk. Her room was void of any personal belongings, except for the furniture, and one other thing.
"By God, I miss you. I wish you were still here," Becky whispered as she tucked a picture of a man into her fifth and final suitcase and latched it closed.
"Come on, Becky. I'm finally ready. The limo will be here any minute! Get your butt moving!" Trisha yelled when she was done packing. Becky heard the TV click off as Jamy got ready to leave for the last time.
"Ok, I'm coming!" Becky replied as she said a silent final good-bye to her room, then apartment. The movers would move the furniture to Europe as soon as the house was remodeled. Before she closed and locked the door for the last time, Becky blew a kiss and closed the door to the apartment, and on memories. New ones were to be made, old ones were to be confronted, and past ones were to be forgotten. That's what probably scared her the most.
* * *
"Oh, my God, I'm so nervous!" Jamy said as the large jetliner taxied on the runway. The pilot came on to announce that the flight attendants were going to do the safety demonstrations that they do on each flight, and to enjoy their flight. Trisha snorted, trying to hold in her laughter. Jamy was afraid of flying, and avoided it whenever possible. This time she couldn't, unless she wanted to ride a boat for a week.
"Oh, please Jamy. It's only a flight! It's not like we're going to get shot down by foreign war ships, and die a long, painful, and tragic death in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, where we get eaten by sharks," Becky sarcastically replied, melodramatically gesturing with her hands. Jamy moaned, and gripped her blue armrests tighter.
In the middle of the flight, they showed a movie, and Becky had to wake up Trisha in the middle. She had her tray table down, and her head was atop her folded arms. It wasn't that she was sleeping that bothered her; it was her snoring. It was getting so loud and annoying that other passengers were starting to stare and whisper.
"Trisha, you're snoring! People are staring! You're embarrassing me!" Becky hissed into her ear. She poked her once on each side, then blew into her right ear. She woke up, yelled something in gibberish, and fell back asleep, this time quietly. People stared for a moment, then went back to their own business. Jamy looked at Trisha like she was crazy.
"It works every time," Becky whispered confidently to a woman across the isle.
Two hours later, the group was finally off the plane, and was suffering ferociously from jet lag. Becky was surprised they even found the hotel within an hour. Trying to keep her composure, Becky took the key from the receptionist at the desk, took the elevator to our floor, and tumbled down the hallway.
"Stupid time zones," she mumbled sleepily as she stumbled into their hotel room and turned on the lights. Becky grabbed a room for herself, heaved her bags on the bed, and made sure Trisha was good with her room. She was already sleeping on the bed fully clothed, and embracing her suitcase tightly. Her hair was a jumble of tangled knots, and Becky didn't want to have to deal with the blonde mess in the morning. Then she realized that they were missing someone. She peeked outside their room and saw Jamy slumped against the wall, fast asleep. Becky literally dragged her inside, to the only room left, and put her gently on her bed. Jamy didn't wake up throughout the whole ordeal. Becky locked the door, turned off the lights, and collapsed onto her own soft bed, totally exhausted from the day.
Becky awoke early the next morning. It was 9:00 AM Paris time, and only 3:00 AM in Boston, so she decided not to call anyone. The night before, she was too tired to notice anything about the suite they were in. Becky glanced around her bedroom, and noticed it was fairly good-sized. In it was a queen-sized bed with an ugly red, blue, and yellow comforter and sheets, a two-door closet, a large mahogany wood dresser, a small nightstand, a scarred black desk, and a blue over-stuffed reclining chair. She searched for where she had stashed her suitcases, emptied the contents carelessly onto the bed, and threw the clothes and other items into the dresser and the closet. Then Becky made her way back to the living room, where there were two couches (both the same ugly red as on the comforter), a coffee table, a TV on a vanity, and a table with four ugly chairs.
She was a little tired, and figured Jamy and Trisha didn't want to go out to eat, so Becky decided to order room service. She had just hung up the phone with the lobby, when she heard a large thump from Trisha's room. Peeking her head inside, her eyes took in the sight of Trisha sitting upright on the floor rubbing the left side of her head. It didn't take a genius to know she had fallen off the bed. She slung her long sandy blonde hair from her eyes, and made an effort to get up.
"Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Now how did we sleep last night?" Becky asked in a mock motherly tone. Trisha narrowed her eyes menacingly at her best friend, and unsteadily stood up.
"Shut up!" she moaned while searching for her suitcases. She found the one on the bed, and the other three were neatly by the nightstand. She pointed to them questioningly, and Becky pointed to herself, indicating she had placed them there the night before. Trisha nodded, and opened the one on her bed. "What time is it? It seems like it's two in the morning!"
"Close enough. In Boston, it's about 3:30 AM, but here, it's about 9:30. I ordered room service, since I felt too lazy to go out. It should be here shortly. Get dressed; you look a mess!" Becky exclaimed softly, as she thought Jamy was still asleep. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway.
"Morning everyone! It's such a nice day outside! Ready to go see our new place? Hey, what's up with Tish over here? What'd she do, fall out of bed?" Jamy asked brightly, and Becky burst out laughing. Trisha threw a pillow at her, and forced them out of her room so she could get dressed.
Jamy was wearing a yellow spaghetti strap shirt with pink flowers on it. She graciously intercepted the food from the bellhop while Becky got dressed. She searched through her various clothes and finally pulled out a pair of blue jeans with cargo pockets and a navy blue T-shirt with Devil Child written on the front in curvy red letters. Faith sat down with Jamy at the table. She was watching some show that was entirely in French. Faith could only understand occasional words and phrases, because she had taken French for two years in college and two years in high school, and but hadn't touched it since.
Just then Trisha walked in wearing a lavender tube top and white Capri pants. She walked over, picked up the empty box that had contained an omelet and said, "You guys are pigs! Did you happen save anything for me?" Becky tried to say something, but her mouth was too full. Trisha put a hand out to try to hide Becky's uncivilized actions and grimaced.
"No, we ate all of it," Jamy said, handing Trisha another box. Trisha accepted it and collapsed onto a third chair. "Anyway, what are we going to do today?"
Becky swallowed the food she had in her mouth, and almost choked in her rush. "Well, I thought we could check out the place we are renovating, you know, to try to get to know the neighborhood better. And then I thought we could go to a store where they sell French dictionaries or something. I really need to catch up on my French." She sighed as she picked up her already torn-up copy of a French dictionary. "I don't think we can get by on the little we remember right now."
"Well, that's good. As long as we have you around, Becky, we won't ever have a free second," Trisha commented with her mouth full. Becky slapped her arm, and Trisha cocked her head in a way that said 'It's true, though, isn't it?' Becky frowned, and took the last swig of her orange juice.
"Shut up and finish that omelet. We have to get going. It's already 11:30!" Becky exclaimed, surprised at the time. She still had jet lag. Becky ran into her room, stumbling on a pair of Trisha's shoes, and gathered her things while her friends finished eating.
As soon as Trish finished, they grabbed their coats and the keys to their cars (they had arrived on a boat during the night), and took off for their house. Having no idea of what to expect, they had a little surprise when they drove up drove up the long drive.
* * *
"Oh... My...God..." Becky managed to squeak as they approached the 'house.' The term 'house' is used loosely because it wasn't really a house. It was an old, French castle, almost a château; turrets and all. It looked like something out of a fairytale. It was made of stone and was amazingly large and elegant. The turrets swooped up to meet the sharp blue sky at a point, and if you had just the right amount of imagination, you could see flags waving from them. The large wooden doors looked menacing, yet had a mysterious aura. The windows were more modern; panes were visible from where the three were, and they looked like they had been newly purchased. The elegance overpowered Becky, and captured her ability to speak. She felt like a princess, and from the looks on her friends' faces, so did they. The castle was a window into the past, yet had a modern touch. They hoped out of the car, their eyes still glued on the lovely building.
"Oh, I hope most of it is done, or we'll be here forever and a day," Jamy commented as the group took their supply of paint cans, tools, and other miscellaneous things up the stone steps to the doors. Setting down the toolboxes in her hands, Becky dug into her pocket and took out the key. The lock on the door didn't match the elegant splendor of the tall, heavy doors. A modern lock doesn't do this house justice, Becky thought. Knights in shining armor should guard it.
"Yes, most of it is done. All it needs now is the finishing touches, like painting our rooms. I was told this was a fairly normal house, despite the size, so it should seem that way," Becky said, still gazing at the turrets.
"Let's go inside and see what it's like," Trisha said. They entered, and it WAS fairly normal. Becky was slightly disappointed, her chance at living like a princess snuffed out. The inside was modern, and it honestly didn't do the house justice. There was no long corridors, spiraling stone staircases, or hidden rooms. Instead, there were wooden floors, a long, jagged wooden staircase, and a main room with a cathedral ceiling about three stories high.
Becky dropped her load and sighed. "Well, guys. Let's get to work."
Not wanting to work their first day in France, they dropped our stuff off, got back into the car, and drove around for a while. It took them a half-hour to get back to the hotel. All the while, the three were memorizing and writing down the street names as they passed them. The streets were crowed with tourists and natives alike. There were street vendors and quaint little shops lining the streets of downtown Pairs.
When the group finally got back, it was time for lunch. They went to the restaurant off the lobby downstairs. The girls were a little reluctant because they didn't know if the menus would be in French or English, but they had nothing to fear; the menu was in both French and English. After lunch, they went back to downtown Paris to buy some French books. The shops were cozy, and reminded Becky of home. After accomplishing that task, Becky, Trisha, and Jamy went back to the hotel, studied the French books, and watched TV to practice until they went to bed.
* * *
The next day, they all woke up early. Before Becky had gone to bed the night before, she had put up the picture of the man in a special place: on the nightstand next to her bed. After she woke up, Becky kissed the glass of the frame, wishing it were something else that her lips touched.
"I still miss you," she whispered into the still morning air.
Searching in her dresser, Becky pulled out a pair of rip-off pants and a gray T-shirt. She walked out into the living room to see Jamy sitting on the couch upside down, watching TV, and wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a baby blue tube top. Becky smelled Trisha before she saw her. The smell of scrambled eggs and coffee wafted into my nostrils, announcing the presence of fast-food breakfast. Trisha sauntered in carrying three paper bags from an American fast food chain, and set them on the table. She was wearing a short khaki skirt and a pink baby-t with a picture of a lollypop that said 'Sweetie Pie' in swirly pink letters.
"Good old fast food! Finally! Something familiar!" Becky exclaimed as she pounced on the food. Trisha and Jamy gave each other an 'Oh-Great-We're-In-For-A-REALLY-Fun-Day' kind of look. Becky smiled sarcastically back at them, and the girls ate in silence.
After breakfast, they went down to the lobby to get some magazines. The lobby was almost deserted. Becky figured most people would be downtown by now, either shopping or sightseeing. While searching, they saw two girls that caught their eyes. One of them was looking pretty lonely, and the other was listening to her headphones and dancing in her seat to the music. All of a sudden, the girl with the headphones turned off the music, and walked over to our group of girls.
"Hi. My name is Ashley. I have the feeling that I've seen you guys before. Can you tell me your names?" she asked boldly. Her auburn hair gleamed almost purple in the sun, and her brown eyes had a spark of life in them. She stood about my height.
At first they were taken aback by her boldness. Becky was the first to recover and said, "Ok. My name is Becky, and these are my friends Jamy and Trisha. I kind of feel like I've seen you before." She knew she had immediately liked this girl. She was the type that is bold and take-charge. Just like she was.
"Now I know where I've seen you before. We went to Harvard together! I lived right down the hall from you in that old apartment building!" she said. Becky looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, and so did Jamy and Trisha, and all of a sudden, she surfaced in their memories. She was always the one who threw the biggest parties, played the loudest music, and had the most food. She was 22 years old, but acted extremely young for her age.
"Oh my gosh, Ashley!" Jamy yelled and pulled her into a hug. She smiled at the reaction, and set her headphones down carefully on a table.
"Why are you here?" Trisha asked as she also hugged her. Ashley shrugged as they all sat down in the rock-hard chairs.
"I made a few bucks in college and decided to go to Europe. I'm going to be here for the summer. What about you guys?" she replied.
"We're here for the summer too. We're renovating a house about a half-hour away. I was just wondering; where are you staying? I mean, if you can't afford to stay here for the whole summer, then you can stay with us at our château once we're done fixing it up," Becky offered. She immediately put her hand up and cocked her head in refusal.
"Oh, I couldn't impose like that. I'd feel too awkward," Ashley answered shortly. Trisha shook her head excitedly. Trisha wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"You couldn't impose on us! You're our friend! Remember the time you let us stay at your place when the whole football team had invaded our food stash?" she reminisced about the first year they were at Harvard. Ashley laughed loudly, and received a stare from a young bellhop.
"Well, at least let me do some work on the house. Then I'd feel better," she considered kindly. Jamy shrugged her shoulders.
"Sure. We could always use an extra hand. We're going to downtown Paris. Want to come with?" she asked. An extra hand would make the process go faster, and catching up with an old friend would be an added plus.
"Awesome! Of course I'll come! I always welcome a chance to hang out with college friends!" Ashley replied. They were talking so loudly that they had caught the attention of the other girl in the lobby. She was listening in on the girls' conversation as she pretended to read her magazine. Note to Self: talk to the black-haired girl, Becky thought as they set off for downtown Paris to go shopping. The girl followed them with her eyes as they exited the hotel. She wanted to talk to them, but didn't have the courage. Both trying to stand up and sit down at the same time, she fell spread-eagled on the floor, receiving a glare from the bellhop. Grinning and blushing in embarrassment, she got, brushed herself off, and retreated to her fourth floor hotel room with the magazine.
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