Page 33 of Keep It

The phone buzzes in my hands.

Danny: Why are you texting me?

Lovely. I roll my eyes and ignore his reply.

I debate checking in on Rosie so I swipe through her Instagram story. Looks like she’s at our favorite brunch spot in London. Why amInot having brunch in London?

I wallow in my pity before it hits me. I’m in Paris and I’m lounging on the couch wishing I was in a different city. Shaking my head I stand and rush to my suitcase (which is still half packed) and pull on the red polka dot dress that I packed with no reason to wear.

I swan out of the heavy front doors and onto the quiet street, the heat rising from the pavement. I slip my sunglasses over my eyes and feel lighter than I have in weeks.

I wander with no intention until I eventually stumble upon more crowded streets. The Seine glistens in the sunshine and I stop and take photos to send to my mother. The narrow alleyways of the Latin Quarter create a maze that I meander through, dodging tourists and waiters enticing me into their restaurants. I feel the muscle memory kicking in as I walk up the steep incline that leads to the grand blue dome of the Pantheon.

I used to come here with my mum and Claudette. Inside, I would hang over the banister and watch the Foucault pendulum that shows the earth’s rotation, mesmerized by its constant motion.

Once I turn the corner, I take in the building in all its glory. Definitely not one of the most famous sites in Paris, but popular enough that it’s still be considered a tourist hotspot.

I make my way up the boulevard towards it, debating whether to go inside. One look at the queue and I quickly change my mind, instead, opting for sitting at one of the cafe tables opposite, where I can have the perfect view as I drink coffee from a mug and not a styrofoam cup.

A waiter appears. “Bonjour, mangerouboire?” he asks in a monotone voice,

I order a coffee and a croissant before sitting back and soaking in the June sun.

I watch the hustle of the street from my small table and pull my phone out. I take a few pictures of Pantheon, and then without thinking, turn my attention to the people. An old lady leaving the bookshop opposite, a stack of books under her arm, a glamorous woman striding down the street wearing stylish sunglasses, a young couple talking quietly together at the bus stop, a young man in a baseball cap staring at me mouth agape. I lower my phone blinking.

Across the road and staring right at me is Danny Covington.

Once our eyes meet I quickly look away but not before he crosses the road and heads my way.

“Are you stalking me?” I ask as soon as he is within talking distance.

He laughs, “I’d ask you the same thing.” I squint up at him as he stops in front of me. His usual attire of dark jeans and plain t-shirt is familiar, but the bright smile on his face is not one I’m used to.

“I don’t remember inviting you,” I say pointedly as he settles into the chair opposite me.

“Must have missed it,” he says cheekily. “What are you doing here?”

“What areyoudoing here?”

“I’m exploring.”

“Well I’m exploring here, go explore somewhere else.”

He smiles at me, as the waiter arrives with my espresso. He looks up at him. “I’ll have the same, please.” The waiter bobs his head.

I roll my eyes. “We can’t spend every second of the day together, it’s not healthy.”

“We don’t spend every day together, just Monday through Saturday.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“Yes, so this doesn’t count.” Danny chuckles. “Come on, I won’t ask you to do anything for me all day. Not one single thing.” The waiter returns with Danny’s espresso.

I drop my head back.

“So what shall we do?” he asks, taking my silence for acquiescence. I look at him flatly. “Come on, what shall we do?”

“We–” I gesture between us, “–won’t be doing anything.”

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