"There shall never be an end to love. Whether it is a bee's care of a blossom or a sparrow's freedom in the sky, like nature, love is languid and lasting, just as my love is for you."
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“This is it, boys!” Dawson announced loudly. “Our last adventure together before we say goodbye.”
“This is not goodbye!” Jett said exasperatedly.
“And in case you forgot, us two are going to the same university, Granger,” Christophe said, trying hard not to laugh at his dramatic friend. “And Jett and Mac’s schools are within driving distance.”
“Guys!” Mac wheezed from behind the three. They turned, biting their tongues as they tried hard not to laugh at their personal pack mule. “Shut up and help me with your bags!”
Once all the luggage was loaded into the taxi, Christophe told the driver the address where they were heading.
“Can you believe it though?” Dawson continued as the four squeezed into the tiny vehicle. “A two month graduation trip, just us and this amazing city in Europe.”
“I can’t wait to go to Big Ben and the London Eye and Buckingham Palace…” Mac rambled.
“Mac, relax,” Jett said, chuckling. “England isn’t going anywhere. We have weeks to do all that.” Jett glanced at his quiet friend in the corner of the cab. “Hey Chris,” Jett called and Christophe tore his eyes away from staring blankly through the window. He studied the distant green eyes that faced him, still miles away, searching for the obvious. Jett gave him a half-hearted smile. “How is she?”
Christophe visibly tensed and the cab fell to the hands of silence. “Happy, last time I checked,” Christophe muttered gruffly.
Dawson patted Christophe’s knee, giving him a reassuring smile. “That’s all because of you, you know.”
Christophe leaned his head back against the cab cushions, shaking it slightly, and squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s all her doing,” he murmured. He peeked open one eye to watch his friends. “When was the last time all of you talked?”
“Well, individually, we’re all constantly messaging every day,” Mac chattered. “But we haven’t video chatted since graduation.”
“Still can’t believe she sent us each a huge box of Teuscher chocolates from Zurich as graduation presents,” Jett said, shaking his head.
“Baby’s got taste,” Dawson smirked. “And I guess Christy’s got taste for picking someone with taste.”
Christophe rolled his eyes. Realizing who he reminded himself of, he smiled self-consciously.
“We really should’ve sent Aimée a gift too,” Mac said worriedly. “Her pictures make the front cover of so many travel magazines and all we do is say congrats.”
“We’re having the best present anyone could ever give her delivered right to her door,” Jett snorted. “We’re fine.”
The cabbie pulled up to the sidewalk of a narrow street and the boys filed out of the suffocating car. Tall but narrow houses lined the street, side by side and efficiently precise, leaving little room for chaos. An old lady smiled fondly at the quartet of boys as she strolled by from the park at the end of the street, her old dog moving even slower than she was, and Christophe grinned back, shaking his head to himself.
But of course she would pick a neighborhood near a park. It thrilled him to know of his effect on her.
The boys glanced from one end of the block to the other; every house looked exactly the same, save for their doors, varying in shades of black, burgundy, brown, or blue.
YOU ARE READING
Right At Your Door
Short Story"Nothing ever changes here." To Christophe, this is a curse. To Aimée, this is an invitation. All she knows is change. Tired of the life of travel, Aimée decides to make one final move. She would leave Paris. She would leave Europe. She would meet C...
