I expected to see the Eiffel Tower in the distance as I pushed open the heavy doors that exited Charles de Gaulle airport four hours ago. Instead, I was treated to a smattering of yellow taxi cabs all driven by large Middle Eastern men, shouting obscenities.
First lesson in Paris: Expect the unexpected.
Quite a cliché for an undergraduate English major, but it fits perfectly.
I had arrived in Paris four hours ago. After months of pestering my father, he had finally caved and allowed me to sign up for 6-week summer writing course at the American University of Paris. I never dreamed that my begging would turn up fruitful. I am, after all, only 17. The only times I've been away from my dad were during mission trips in Costa Rica and Ghana, and that one time I went to summer camp before 8th grade. He told me he's only letting me go because he "trusts me" and wants me to "make memories you'll remember forever." Oh, and the fact that I'll get four college credits. My dad is a maniac about college.
I've never actually been to Europe. Once dad said he was letting me go to Paris, I spent every moment of my free time researching the city. Probably too much time, in fact, because I found myself slightly disappointed with what I found in front of me for the first thirty minutes after I arrived.
Once I arrived at AUP and stepped out of the taxi, it was....well, another story. AUP is right next to the Eiffel Tower. The first time I looked up at the gleaming metal masterpiece my breath was knocked right out of me. I'm spending six weeks in Paris.
Now, hours later, I've already unpacked in my single dorm room when I decide to pick up the phone. Lindsay, my best friend and practically my twin, is still at home in Scottsdale, Arizona. After three rings, she picks up.
"Elise! Oh my god, how is it?" Lindsay asks right away.
"Not as great as it would be if you were here," I laugh, "but still pretty great."
"What have you done so far?"
"You're forgetting that I just got off an eight hour plane ride." I feel a twinge of restlessness. I desperately want to explore but I have orientation in a half hour.
"Speaking of," I speak up again, "I've got this orientation thing I have to go to in a few minutes. But I'll text you, okay?"
"If I don't die of boredom." Lindsay sighs.
"But, hey!" I remind her, "You're going to Costa in, what, three days?" Lindsay is doing the same service project in Costa Rica that I did two years ago.
"True, true," she laughs. "But get going! Go have some French fun. Eat some escargot for me!"
"Only for you." I smile to myself and hang up.
I feel alone again.
Although I desperately wanted to go to Paris, I didn't think much about the loneliness factor. I don't know anyone here. I sigh and gather my things. There's only twenty minutes until orientation and I want to make sure I have plenty of time to figure out where I'm going. I walk out of my room and lock my door. The dorm is in a large building, supposedly a three-minute walk from where classes are being held. The dorm building is three floors and each floor has ten rooms each with a hallway through the middle. There's also a common area on the first floor next to the entrance. The dorms, to my horror, are co-ed.
It takes me only five minutes to find the large lecture hall where orientation is being held, so I'm 15 minutes early. I see a few people already in seats, and I figure that now is as good a time as any to make new friends. I walk over to where a short redheaded girl is sitting, five rows back from the front. Before I can even open my mouth, she's speaking.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy I Met in Paris
Teen FictionElise is off to Paris for six weeks to take a course in writing at the American University of Paris. What she expects are days full of grueling yet education classes and weekends filled with exploring, but what she gets is a whole new group of frien...