Plane Ticket To You

Chapter 16

📍PARIS, FRANCE

LUCIA

Blearily, I peeled one eye open as light poured into the room. I squinted, trying to make out the figure at the edge of the bed.

I realized that it was Camille, and I rubbed my eyes. I took in my surroundings. With horror, I recognized the space I was in to be her bedroom. I was sleeping in her bed. I guessed that Elias and I hadn't made it back to our hotel last night after all after we had stayed up late into the night talking with Camille and her friends.

"Oh my... Camille! I'm so sorry, I must have fallen asleep, I-"

She waved a hand noncomittally, and I quieted. "Don't worry about it, mon ami. I had a perfectly nice beauty sleep on my sofa."

Camille looked stylish as ever, wearing a classic white beret, a maroon blouse with puff sleeves, and shiny black leather pants.

I saw Elias still sleeping soundly on the divan opposite the bed. My heart twisted as I saw his serene, beautiful face. I had a strong urge to ruffle his hair, and I immediately dismissed the thought.

"Claude and Michel left late last night, so they're not here. He could have slept in the guest bed in the other room, but he insisted that he wanted to sleep here."

I decided not to dissect that piece of information. "I'm sorry, I should have slept on the guest bed."

"The guest bed will get over your rejection," Camille said, smiling.

I noted that Elias had started to stir on the divan. 

"Wha- what did I miss," he slurred, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, bonjour, Sleeping Beauty," Camille said. "How do you two feel about a proper Parisian breakfast?"

---

Camille had managed to drag her friends out of bed, transport us to Cafe de Paris, and have the food laid out before us all in the meager time of an hour.

We each had a plate heaped with pain au chocolat, croissants, fruit, baguettes and jam, and crepes. 

I took a sip of the steaming cafe au lait next to my plate. "This looks divine, Camille. Merci."

"Tell me, what does a standard American breakfast look like?" Michel asked, picking up his fork.

I snorted. "Fruit Loops."

"Pardon?" 

"They're a delicacy," Elias deadpanned.

Michel tilted his head. "I have never heard of these... fruit loops."

I struggled to contain my laughter. I looked over at Elias, who was also trying very hard to contain his mirth. Claude and Camille were looking at me strangely.

"I can't do this to you any longer," I said, wheezing. "Michel, Fruit Loops are a cereal. As far from a delicacy as you could get."

His eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his thick black hair. "You got me."

Claude rolled her eyes. "He's so hopelessly gullible."

I laughed. "Sorry, Michel."

"So," Camille said, polishing off her croissant, "what do you two have in mind for the future? I mean, what careers do you want to pursue?"

I looked over at Elias, whose lips were pursed. I knew that he was a talented pianist, but he hadn't told me what plans he had to pursue that as a career.

When it was clear he wouldn't respond anytime soon, I decided to answer. 

"I'm not sure yet. I haven't done any college applications yet. I'm trying to figure it out."

Elias' gaze snapped over to me, startled. I knew that he was surprised about how late I was waiting to start my applications.

I shifted in my seat. "I guess I-"

"She's a writer," Elias blurted. "A really good one."

Immediately, I felt uneasy. If looks could kill, Elias would be bathing in his own blood by now with the glare I shot his way.

Camille clapped her hands together. "How fascinating! Lucia, what kinds of things have you written, mon ami?"

"I don't do much anymore," I mumbled. "I mostly did short stories. Some fiction and some nonfiction. I used to post my stuff on Wattpad and Reddit. It was nothing special."

"Yes, it is," Elias said firmly. "It was really good. She is really good, Camille."

Writing had been my life. My everything. My first true love. But now... now it felt like whenever I tried to write it felt like all the bones in my hands were broken. Lifeless.

"Will you pursue that? Will you study English at university?" Michel asked.

I swallowed, cornered in by the scrutiny of everyone seated at the table.

Thankfully, Elias registered my discomfort immediately. 

"Lucia hasn't decided yet," he said firmly. "She already said so earlier. She has so many other talents, you know..."

---

"Why did you say that?" I asked as soon as I got Elias alone. We were currently walking among the book shelves of Shakespeare and Co, a cozy and popular bookstore nestled in the streets of Paris. I had purchased two young adult romances by my favorite author and a beautiful gilded edition of Around the World in Eighty Days. Elias had bought some chapter books for his sisters.

"'She has so many other talents, you know,'" I quoted him, exasperated. "You might as well tell them I have absolutely no future now that writing isn't an option anymore, because you and I both know that I have no other passions or talents aside from writing."

"I'm sorry," Elias said, his eyes following me as I paced. "Lucia, please look at me."

I turned to face him, frustration written all over my face. "What?"

"That's not what I meant, and of course you have a future. I completely respect your decision not to write anymore, but that doesn't mean I agree with it. But maybe I'm not exactly the right person to speak on these things."

I stilled. "What do you mean?"

"I never play piano anymore," Elias said. "I mean, not in the way I want to. It's funny, I was just talking to your brother the other day about it. I'm not going to college, Lucia. My dream since forever has been to go to Berklee or Julliard for classical piano, but now I know that it's nothing more than a pipe dream."

"Elias, I-wow, I never knew that. I'm so sorry. What are you planning on doing, then?"

"Supporting my sisters by getting gigs for playing piano," he said simply. "That's all I can do."

"But surely your dad pays enough child support for your sisters to-"

"You think he has much of anything to give? I want my sisters to be able to go for their dreams, to be able to go to college if they damn well please. So I will earn the money, no matter how unglamorously hard I have to work."

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to give him his wish of going to Berklee or Julliard. He had nobly shouldered the needs of his sisters for so long that I wanted nothing more than to take his burden and give him what he deserved.

Now, all I could offer him was a smile. "You will get your dream someday, Elias."

"How do you know?"

"I just know," I said. "Trust me."

He smiled ruefully.

Camille walked over to us, her auburn hair catching the overhead light. She carried two paper bags of books. "Did you get everything you wanted?"

"Not yet," Elias said wistfully under his breath. I knew immediately what he was talking about, and it had nothing to do with books. "Not just yet."

END OF CHAPTER SIXTEEN