Again, But Better(88)

He frowns slightly, nodding. “I mean, just because we didn’t talk about our lives back in the US doesn’t mean we didn’t know each other.” He smiles a bit now. “I knew that when you got up in the kitchen, the chair would fall.”

I snort.

He continues matter-of-factly, “I knew that if a song you knew came on, or if someone started singing randomly, you’d sing along. I knew that if you tripped on the street, you’d do a crazy dance and manage to stay upright. I knew I could probably always find you writing in the kitchen. I knew your eyes were ice blue. I knew I could always poke fun at the weird stuff you do because you’d laugh right along with me. I knew enough to know you.”

I stare, speechless for a moment. He drops his gaze, smiling at his hands and fiddling with a strap on his backpack. “You know, you never really gave me any shit back then, when I’d give it to you,” he finishes.

My lip quirks up. “You’re not as weird as I am; it’s harder to make fun of you. Back then, I barely knew how to make fun of myself—not jaded enough yet, I guess.”

“And you’re jaded now?” He smirks.

“In terms of me, I’m jaded,” I answer with a scoff. “I came here so sheltered. It’s hard to be cynical when you’re constantly spinning around in awe of the stuff around you. So many times, you’d crack a joke or say something ridiculous, and so many times, I wouldn’t realize it for a good three minutes because I was too distracted by the world to pick up on the sarcasm and I’d feel like an idiot for having missed it and not reacted in the moment.”

He grins, shaking his head.

I continue in earnest, “We were gallivanting around in foreign countries I’ve never seen before! It was a lot to take in.” I laugh, looking at my knees. “Now that I’ve been here before, it’s a little more familiar than foreign.” I meet his eyes again. “I feel a little less like a newborn puppy than before.”

Pilot nods with a small smile. “I’ve noticed.”

“Noticed what?” I ask with a smidge of attitude.

“You’re bolder than before.”



* * *



We eat our shawarma in the Eurostar waiting area. Once we’re settled in on the train to Paris, I turn and ask him something that’s been on my mind for a while. “Why did you want to do study abroad?”

“To get away from everything and travel, see the world.”

Everything? “Really?”

“And get a break from school. It’s a lighter semester, and when else are you going to be able to live in a different country?”

I nod and look down at my lap.

“What about you?”

I purse my lips. “I mean, I needed to get away, I guess, but at the time I was fixated on starting college over.”

Pilot tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“My roommates from freshman and sophomore year had gone ahead and booked a double without me for junior year. They were my closest friends at YU. I was left super-alone in a single apartment, all sad and friendless. I was going home every weekend. I found the writing program on the study abroad site—and the rest is history.”

He studies me thoughtfully. “And you’re glad you did it?” He raises his brows, eyes twinkling because he already knows the answer.

I fiddle with the edge of my jacket. “Best unintentional decision I ever made. You?”

He grins. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” He reaches for his backpack on the ground and plunges his hand inside. It comes back out holding … a pack of Beatles cards!

I gasp and he chuckles. “Picked these up yesterday. Didn’t feel right not having them.”

“You went to the Beatles store without me!” I nudge him playfully.

“I wanted them to be sort of a surprise.”

“Well, thanks.” A fire stirs to life in my chest.

“Shall we play?”





13. Close



My hand smacks over Pilot’s as a second queen shows up. I topple sideways, cackling in defeat. I might lose this round of Egyptian Rat Screw.

I’m all smiles and smothered competitiveness. There’s a palpable air of hesitancy when it comes to closeness, much like real first dates. We did kiss last weekend, but it’s different now. He’s single. Closeness is expected now, anticipated.



* * *



Pilot snorts as I rattle off the address of the hostel to the cab driver.

“You know what I didn’t realize till now,” he starts dubiously. “We’re going back to that hostel.”

I laugh. “Yeah. I didn’t forget.”

He scoffs, “If you didn’t forget, why didn’t you push Babe toward something different?”

“Because then we wouldn’t be redoing this trip. We’d be on a different trip. Where’s the struggle there?” I beam. He shakes his head, grinning, and I continue. “Think of all the things we’d be missing out on. We wouldn’t get to room with that forty-year-old and the sleep apnea machine.”

“You’re right, and we wouldn’t have that banging wall of lockers to put our stuff in.”

“They were the perfect shade of gym-locker blue,” I coo. “And don’t forget the shower. You remember the shower?” I ask excitedly.