To Be a Hero | MLB

33: The Croissant

As the afternoon wears on, I learn more about Antoine. And, of course, I like him more as well.

According to him, he is sixteen, lives on the side of Paris opposite me with his parents, is an only child, and loves baking and reading. He was born and raised in Paris, has visited the Eiffel Tower twenty-seven times, and his favorite color is mint green.

I tell him about myself, too, and we trade stories about our childhoods so far. When I admit I've never had a croissant before, he insists we stop at the nearest bakery so I can try one.

We end up at the same bakery where we hid together a few days ago, and Antoine orders us each a croissant in French. I slide up beside him and slip my hand back into his, already missing its comforting weight.

"You know, I'm fluent in French, too."

He looks over at me in surprise. "You speak my language?"

I nod, teasing, "Why so surprised?"

"I-I am not. I just... why have we been speaking English all this time?"

"That's the language you greeted me with, so I just went with it."

He stares at me for a moment, then asks, "Which language are you more comfortable speaking?"

"Probably English, but—"

"Then that is the language we will continue to speak."

I grin up at him as one of the bakers behind the counter hands him our croissants. He pays for them, and we find a table outside to sit at. I take one of the pastries out of the bakery-provided box and bite into it. I chew for a moment, then declare, "Delicious."

"I knew you would like it." He takes out his croissant and takes a bite. "This is one of the best bakeries in all of Paris. Which means a lot, considering there are many bakeries in Paris."

I laugh, and we spend some time talking about desserts. Eventually, we stand and continue our walk together, still holding hands. We stop on the Pontded'Léna, the bridge leading across the Seine to the Eiffel Tower. I lean forward against the railing, and Antoine comes to stand beside me.

"Tori."

"Antoine."

"Tell me something... embarrassing about yourself."

I snort and glance at him. "Embarrassing?"

"Yes. If you can do this, I know you trust me, and I can trust you."

"Okay. Well, I'm terrified of dogs, if that counts."

"That is a valid fear, though. They are scary." He smiles. "That is why I prefer cats."

I lean away from him slightly. "Oh no. No, no, no. That might be a dealbreaker."

He takes my hand and pulls me back toward him. "Luckily for you, I do not have a cat."

"Oh, thank God."

We watch the water ripple and flow on the river's surface for a while as the sun sets behind us. I step closer to Antoine and lean against him, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. Everything about him seems so... natural, and I wonder if it's because he's done all this before.

I don't really want to ask my question, but now that I'm thinking about it, I feel like I need to know its answer. "Hey, Antoine?"

"Yes, Tori?"

I hesitate before asking, "Have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

He shakes his head silently.

"Really?"

"No. I... Do not get me wrong, many girls have approached me before—" I bristle a bit at that— "but I know it has always been about..." He gestures to his face, and I hide my grin. Even Antoine knows he's cute. "And that is not exactly how I want a real relationship to start. I have always hoped I would be the one to make the first move."

I nod, understanding. "So when you saw an American girl—"

"A pretty American girl."

I can't hide my smile this time. "—crying on a park bench, you knew it was your chance."

"Exactly."