Finding myself (18+)

Chapter 23

"It's not difficult. Try Again." Antoine scowls us and I roll my eyes at him.

"It's An-toi-ne," he spells it slowly. The pronunciation sounds a lot like Antwon, yet we can't pronounce it right. I think is the way they pout when they speak that complicates the whole thing. So each time he does the same. Spelling his name, making us repeat it, treating us like two little kids unable to pronounce a French word right.

"Shut up Antonio!"

Antoine snorts at Priscila's statement. She has a short temper and doesn't have patience for it.

"I'm calling you Antonio. So get over it." She dismisses him with her hand.

Antoine has been striving for us to pronounce his name and every French word correctly since we met. Priscila already gave up and is calling him the Portuguese version of it. Antonio.

She's a very energetic Brazilian girl. Very fussy as well. I'm still getting used to everyone staring at us because she's always speaking too loud.

She's the first person I met in Paris. It was on the very first day during our master inscription.

It was fast. I glanced at her, she smiled at me. I smiled back and we started talking about how complicated the French language is.

Our friendship started after that. And when she found out how horrible the dorm I moved to was, I became her roommate too.

Antoine is French and joined us on the second day.

Priscila and I were planning to visit Paris and he intruded on our plans. Affirming we were not planning on visiting the right places. He took charge and showed us around. He's a good guide, patient. He explains everything. And he's a bit annoying correcting our French mistakes. He helped us to solve our setting up issues as well.

It happens that my French was not as good as I thought it was. And each time I call someone to fix something in our place, or for a French phone account or health insurance, they didn't seem to understand me. Or they didn't want to help.

Everything changed suddenly when Antoine picked up the phone and spoke in his French accent.

"I guess I'll just call you Antony. Sorry" I give him a grin.

"No way, Kelsey. She's a lost cause, but I still trust in you." He pleads.

"Tony then?" I grin at him. "Maybe Tom." A nod. It really bothers him being called by a nickname.

Priscila hides her smile with her hands. Shaking her head.

We're in our favorite brunch in Paris. We discover the coffee shop called Kozy by mistake. But since then, it's been our favorite spot to eat and drink coffee. Plus it's close to the Eiffel Tower.

I turn to face the entrance of the restaurant. My eye caught a man entering it and I'm suddenly staring at it. Hopefull, holding my air for a second. I don't need much time watching him. Before he turns towards us I already know. It's not him. He's taller.

"It's time," Antoine announces, after checking his watch. I sigh, awaking from my trance.

I finish my coffee and Priscila and I get up excitedly.

We have seen the Eiffel Tower countless times at night and its shinning glamour. But we never get tired of it.

The summer is already over and it's getting colder. Days are shorter and night arrives earlier each day.

It's not as comfortable to have a picnic in the park in front of the tower as it was in September. It was our favorite thing at the time.

Since I arrived, a month and a half ago, we've come here at least once a week. Every time Antoine announces it's the last time he's coming with us. He hates tourist places and how crowded they are. Still, he keeps coming. Pretending to be annoyed at us, but I know Priscila and I amuse him.