24 Hours in Paris

Original Edition: Chapter Three

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11 a.m.

The scene on the train was a very different one now; no morning rush, no hungover American cliques, just Mira and Jake and a few excited travellers headed to central Paris.

Mira and Jake sat across from each other, their level of interaction rather feeble.

Jake gestured to the train map above their heads. "One more stop."

Mira nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Am I leaking?" Jake said.

Mira's face contorted at the weirdness of the question. "Excuse me?"

Jake gestured to his nostrils. "My face is kinda numb, so I'm not really sure what's going on up in there."

Mira slowly nodded. "Ah...I see. Well you're good on the leakage front, but you'll need to replace those tissue plugs soon."

He dabbed at his nostrils, and then looked at her, confused. "Where can I get tissues in Paris? And I'm talking about the high-end three-ply stuff."

Mira stifled a laugh. "Or maybe the one that's infused with lotion?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah! That'd be killer."

"A pharmacy's probably your best bet," she said. "There's like a million of them in Paris. Just look for the glowing green plus sign."

"Cool, thanks," he said.

Without realizing it, Mira found herself feeling a little sympathy for Jake. He was a rare combination of hurt and ridiculous, and it was almost a little bit cute. She noticed him scratch his elbow, which immediately reminded her of a night's worth of being stabbed in the ribs by that very elbow, just so Jake could get his mack on with the sexy French Genevieve. She glared at that goddamn elbow.

"What's with the face?" he said.

Mira's glare dissolved into embarrassment. "Oh...that was just a facial exercise; it's a way to release negative energy by looking pissed off for five seconds. It's like cathartic...for your chakra...I read about it online." Before this lie got even more out of control she pulled out her phone, taking great care to avoid his reaction. "Oh good, I have reception now." She started typing furiously.

He watched her, looking more curious by the second. "That's a long text."

Her typing didn't slow. "My parents were supposed to pick me up from the airport today. I'm just letting them know I'm not dead."

"In a text as long as an essay?" He smirked.

She looked up from her phone. "It's not just that I'm letting them know I'm not dead. They'll also need to know where I'm staying, the names of the girls I'm with, hourly updates, blah blah blah."

His eyes went wide. "I just told my parents I'd be back a day later; that's it."

"Well mine are Indian," she said. "Whole different ball game."

"Right...but is it really a good idea to tell them you're staying with girls? I mean you know..."

She was completely dumbfounded. "No, I don't know."

"You mean they really don't suspect anything? About you and Rachel?"

It took her a few seconds to process the reason for his assumption and respond, the train slowed down to a stop.