But I can do this. I have to.
My seat neighbor is a rather attractive guy who looks to be in his twenties, and when he notices me fidgeting, he asks if I’m a nervous flier. I sheepishly confess that I am, and he pats my hand, giving me a wink.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe,” he tells me, smiling. I blush, not accustomed to a lot of male attention. Every guy I interacted with in my hometown I’ve known since I was a little kid. When the population is that low, you kind of get to know everybody more intimately than you’d like. So no matter how objectively cute a guy in my graduating class might be, I would always remember him as the kid who picked his nose in first grade. Besides, gymnastics has always superseded any interest in romantic entanglements, for me.
So I am about as experienced as a nun.
The guy introduces himself as Will and says that he’s also going to Paris to study at the same school as me! Of course, he’s going as a graduate student, whereas I will be a lowly undergrad. Still, he flirts with me in a non-threatening, easy going way, and we spend the whole flight chatting about how excited we are. Will explains that he’s been to Paris many times before, and he offers to help show me around and get used to the place. I can’t believe my luck!
When the flight attendant comes down the aisle, Will purchases a miniature bottle of champagne and sneaks me a sip. It’s the first time I’ve ever had champagne — or alcohol, period. It burns in my mouth a little bit, but I actually enjoy the taste once I get past the bubbles.
“You’ve really never had a drink?” Will asks in an undertone, his eyebrows raised.
I shake my head and shrug. “No. For a long time my hometown was in a dry county so people still don’t really drink a whole lot. Plus, you know, I’m underage.”
He laughs. “Yeah, that never stopped me.”
As we share the champagne, I start to feel a little giddy — definitely more upbeat and optimistic about my Parisian experience than I was when I boarded the plane. I mean, I’ve been excited all along, but until now my anxieties have kept my elation to a minimum. But now I just want to jump up and down and turn backflips!
The rest of the flight passes by much more quickly than I expected, probably thanks to the booze and Will’s pleasant company. It’s exciting to have a cute boy so interested in me, and when we finally land in Paris, he suggests that we share a taxi together. I agree happily as it’s nice having an older guy to guide me through the massive airport, and the two of us collect our luggage and walk out into the French sunshine.
“We did it!” I exclaim, breathing in deeply as the sounds of the big city whirr around me.
“You’re in Paris!” Will says, nudging my shoulder. “How does it feel?”
“Like a dream,” I breathe, my heart soaring. I cannot believe I’ve made it all the way here — little Liv Greenwood, all the way from the middle of nowhere to the almost mythical city of Paris! It almost feels like I’m watching a movie starring myself, and at any second the end credits will pop up and transport me back to Toast, where I’m a nobody once again.
Will and I take a taxi to the University, where we get out and walk around on campus for a while. It’s mind-blowing to be somewhere so deeply entrenched in history beyond my own nation, the white walls of the old school nearly vibrating with centuries of memory. Then we simply stroll along the streets, dragging our luggage along behind us. I feel so small in this massive, beautiful, vibrant city — like an ant crawling on the face of a gigantic marble statue. Every building tells a story, every corner we turn reveals another architectural masterpiece I’ve only ever seen in the pages of an art history textbook.
This is a fantasy, a wild daydream — but it’s also my life now!
Around noon, I check my phone and realize I forgot to text my parents, I have been so distracted. I finally reply to their barrage of concerned texts, assuring them that the plane landed and I’m perfectly fine. I’m more than fine, though, I’m floating on cloud nine.
“Oh, I believe I’ve got to head back to the campus to meet with my gymnastics coordinator,” I tell Will, a little sadly. I am excited to meet the trainers and my fellow gymnasts, but I’m also reluctant to leave Will. It’s so nice to have found a friend already, especially one who seems to genuinely care about making me feel welcome.
Suddenly, Will catches me in his arms and dives in to kiss me.
I’m so shocked that I actually yelp in surprise, barely managing to dodge out of the way before his lips collide with mine. His kiss lands awkwardly on my cheek instead, and when he releases me, he looks a little miffed. “Did I misread something?” he asks, ruffling his hand through his blond curls.