Light Blue

Part xxxv- Fleeting Messages

35

Day 12

2 days before we go home.

Currently writing this outside in the gardens of Versailles. Amelia has wondered off somewhere (as always). Sitting beside the lake- you can see the palace from here and trust me, it is beautiful. So grand and gothic and the Hall of Mirrors! I’ve never seen so many mirrors in one place! Shame that a treaty as such was signed there.

I drag the pen across the page and start doodling flowers and spirals over the page, sketching the fountain up ahead, before the page and pen are pulled from my hands, the pen nib drawing a wiggly line straight over the page and across my sketch.

“Oops,” Amelia giggles as she sits down beside me. She puts the journal in her lap and begins writing in it.

TOMORROW IS OUR LAST DAY.

“You don’t say Amelia,” I say, smirking.

“Yeah, I know, it’s just gone so fast- I seriously am so dreading University. Please let me stay here and never go back! They won’t notice!”

“I’m pretty sure they will Amelia.” I roll my eyes and drag her up. She links arms with me.

“Did you see all of those statues everywhere. It’s so weird.”

“Are you sure you aren’t a statue?”

It’s fair to say Amelia is the faster runner. So I paid for the lunch.

Eating as I am writing this. Amelia looks like a hamster.

“Hey!”

She does not deny it, but now she is throwing lettuce at me.

Turns out a journal is very useful as a shield. But we did get very angry looks from the waiters and other customers. I think we better stop messing around before we really do get kicked out.

After walking around the streets of Paris for a bit, we grab sandwiches from a Boulanger and we eat them on the way back to the hotel.

“I can’t believe we’re going home,” Amelia struggles to say, waving her bitten sandwich in the air.

“You’ve said that about fifty billion times, yes we are going home.”

Amelia sighs. “I really wish we don’t have to. It’s been amazing.”

“To be honest, I can’t wait to go home! I think I’ll be able to sleep properly.”

Amelia smiles grudgingly but I see a trace of sadness left in them. “I know what you mean.”

She then nudges me as we near the hotel and points over to the Boulanger across the road.

“It’s your turn to get something,” Amelia says. She pushes me gently towards it so I cross the road quickly and walk into the bakery. Since last week, we had started to get treats from the bakery and we had nearly eaten every single type of pastry that there was there. When I reach the counter, I scan the contents behind the window, trying to figure out what we hadn’t already gotten.

“Good evening mademoiselle!” the person behind the counter smiles widely at me. I smile back. The bakery had actually finally started to realise that we came here regularly.

“What will it be tonight?” she says.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say nervously. A hand shoots out from behind me and points at the counter.

“I think the almond and chocolate croissants are very tasty,” someone says with a very strong accent that makes me a bit confused. I turn around and see a tall guy with blonde hair. I shrug and turn back slowly to the counter with a wry smile.