Joanna let me sleep for about a half a second before deciding that waking me up with a French song was the way to go.
“Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?”
Max and Kristin snapped pictures.
I changed into shorts, a fresh T-shirt and running shoes (“Make sure you’re wearing comfy sneakers!” Joanna chirped), located the bathroom down the hall, and washed up.
Now, the eleven of us are sitting on hard iron benches in a shaded garden behind the hostel, waiting for the boys to join us. What’s taking them so long? I thought girls were the ones who took forever.
I hear some laughter in the distance. And now the garden door is opening . . .
OH. MY. GOD.
YOU ARE READING
A Nice Fling is Hard to Find
Teen FictionLindsay is on a summer teen tour to France and she's determined to have a fling before she comes home. And not with a fellow American. No, she's only considering boys with foreign accents. Will she find her Jacques or Jean-Claude who will look deep...
