To Be a Hero | MLB

17: The Ice Cream

Five minutes later, Antoine and I are sitting on a bench, eating our two scoops of ice cream in silence.

"He said I'm vanilla," I say finally, repeating the ice cream vendor's words. "The most basic of flavors."

"I do not think he meant it like that," Antoine replies quickly. "Vanilla is... sweet. And it goes with many flavors—"

"Meaning it blends in, or is easily overpowered by other flavors," I sigh, sitting back. "Story of my life."

"Tori, I was going to say it is compatible with others. And I personally love vanilla, it is one of my favorite flavors."

"Well, this is all so easy for you to say, isn't it? You got passion fruit. Passion fruit! It's exotic! It's unique! It's sweet and sour—"

"But it is not me. I am not nearly that interesting." He takes another spoonful of vanilla.

"You're kidding, right?" He shakes his head, and against my better judgment, I add, "But you're... you! You even have a French accent!"

He blinks at me. "Everyone here has a French accent. If anything, you are the unique one, with your American accent."

I frown and sink deeper into the bench, watching a passing man sell Ladybug and Chat Noir action figures to tourists. "I'm ruining your evening, aren't I? I'm sorry I'm in such a bad mood."

"You have nothing to apologize for. And you have made my day better by just being here." But then his phone starts ringing, and he pulls it from his pocket. "Ah, it is my mother. She probably wants me to come home." He swipes to decline the call, then holds his phone out to me. "Could I have your number, or should we keep meeting by chance?"

I smile and take his phone, entering my name and number. I hand it back, and we finish our ice cream quickly. We say our goodbyes, then stand and stare at each other, unsure of how to finish off our outing. Should we shake hands, or wave, or—

He holds his arms out to me, and we hug. For maybe just... a few seconds too long to be considered "friendly."

When we part, he says, "If you are ever feeling angry or sad again, just call me. Then we can work through your feelings together. Okay?"

I nod, smiling, and he waves once before turning and heading home. I watch him walk away for a few moments before my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Lorri pokes her head out of my sweatshirt pocket, and I shout in surprise.

"I forgot you were in there," I hiss.

"Is your boyfriend gone? Your phone has been buzzing all afternoon, but I couldn't warn you while he was here. Oh, and it's been giving me an amazing massage!" Then she hands my phone to me, and I read my newest message, from Jakob.

Turn around.

Confused, I do. And there, standing twenty feet away from me, is my oldest brother. His right hand is holding his phone, and his arms are crossed tightly. Even from far away, he looks tired and slightly distressed.

Though above all, he looks pissed.

I make my way over to him, remembering I wasn't supposed to leave home without a chaperone, and my mom sent him to find me. I left earlier to avoid listening to my mother chastise me, but now I think I'll have to face a little more than that when I get home.

"Hey, Jak—"

"Tori, what is wrong with you? I've been looking all over Paris for you—I nearly called the police—and where did I find you? In the arms of some boy." He runs a hand over his face, and I swallow. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"Okay, Dad," I reply. "Do you have any idea how upset I've been? If you did, you'd understand why I left."

"You could have gone to your room, like any other normal teenager! You didn't have to disobey Mom and run halfway across the city," he growls, then pauses. "Unless that was all a ploy to get yourself out of the house so you could see that boy. Who is he, anyway? Your boyfriend?"

My heart speeds up. "No, I just met him yesterday. He's... um—"

"You know, I don't really care." He grabs my arm, and I stumble forward. "Come on, we're going home. And give me your phone—Mom told me to take it from you."

I groan and reach into my pocket, feeling Lorri fly out of the way of my hand. I give Jakob my phone, then follow him to my doom.