Take A Chance On Me ☆ [Mamma Mia - Bill Anderson X Reader]

☆3☆

Your POV

"Bye, bye, oh I'm gonna miss you two!" Rosie hugs you too tightly to breathe again, then does the same to Donna beside you as your twin gasps with the force.
Tanya laughs with you and envelops you, whispering in your ear,
"Go find your dream, Y/N. I know it's there somewhere."

You smile gratefully at her, then turn to Donna.
"You got everything?"
"Yep!" Donna beams, then grabs her bags and checks off the imaginary list in her head.
"Paris, Switzerland, Italy, everywhere! The Sheridan sisters are ready!"
Suitcases bunched in one hand, you punch the air with the other. "Yeah! Woo!"

The girls laugh and you all exchange warm hugs again, then one altogether, laughing and kissing cheeks, until the ferry man shouts through a megaphone, "ONE MINUTE CALL FOR CALAIS!"
You all separate, pouting sadly at each other.
Rosie rubs her arms - she forgot to bring an extra jacket with her to Dover - "So, you're getting off the ferry at Calais then getting to Paris how?"
You scratch your cheek, not liking the answer. "We have to hitchhike, seeing as we can't drive," and when Tanya gasps in shock you say quickly, "but it's only, like, 197 miles so it shouldn't be that bad."
"But," replies Rosie, "what about stranger danger? You have to remember stranger danger, even you Donna."
Donna sighs like a petulant child. "We'll be fine! It's just a ride, and if anyone tries to do anything funny I'll just do what I did to Oliver Shoehorne in Year Ten."
The four of you laugh, and you're momentarily distracted from the impending uncertainty of the next chapter of your life until the ferry guy again yells, "LAST CALL FOR FERRY TO CALAIS!"

"Okay, now we really gotta go," you persist, hugging Rosie and Tanya in turn again with furious passion. Two of your best friends. You don't know when you'll see them again - what if you come back and they've got busy lives? Tanya will probably already be married to some rich dude, and Rosie will have definitely already published at least one book and might not have time between writing.
Donna picks up her bags again and you re-secure your suitcases and its wheels, and the two of you turn and walk towards the ferry.
You look back at the girls waving and smiling widely.
"Don't forget us!" you shout, and together they yell,
"No chance!"

You look to Donna and she enters the ferry before you, grins madly, and says to nobody in particular:
"Now the party's starting!"

☆☆☆

This ferry is really nice, so luxurious. You've never seen so many olives at one bar.
'Y/N!" Donna yells from outside again, and you shake your head at being dragged to look at some sealife again. You're fine with looking at the sea, just not too close and not for hours at a time.

"Y/N!" she yells, and just to shut her up you sigh and get up to walk over to her.
"What is it now..." you look across to where she's pointing, and you mouth gapes open.

A few nautical miles away, just enough to clearly see, the port of Calais looms with its jutting wooden piers and rows of figures in lines waiting for you. You feel Donna's hand squeezing your arm but you can't tear your gaze away: it looks so beautiful, so free, so exciting, so new.

"Just look at it!" Donna breathes, "France! And then, after we've hitchhiked for a while, Paris! We're gonna have so much fun here, Y/N!"
You smile vaguely, still staring at the clouds above the jetty that look like candyfloss. "Yeah. So much fun."

The ferry arrives at the pier and you two step off, collect your things, and in an instant Donna has run off and is sticking her thumb out at the nearest road.
You run over to her, lagging from your suitcases and the shoulder bag she forgot on the boat. "Donna, wait until we're away from everyone will you?! What if someone sees us hitching a lift, like a police officer?"
"They can't arrest us for other people deciding to help us," Donna reasons, just as someone actually pulls over and offers us a lift to Calais.

You both stare, the exact same slack jaw on your faces.
"Really? All the way there?" you ask in a mixture of disbelief and surprise, and the couple in the front seats nod.
"Why not help a couple young people like us be free to do what they want, eh?" the guy at the wheel with an earring in his right ear and a hand on the girl's thigh replies calmly.
Never one to miss an opportunity, Donna snaps into her mad grin and pulls open the back door and slides in. She takes out a hand to you, and you pause to look around.

You must both be mad.

You take your sister's luggage off her and ask the couple to open the boot of their car. You pack it all in, close the boot, get in the car next to Donna and sigh.

☆☆☆

The car stops in a square with a water fountain in the middle, and Donna and you get out and stare at the beauty before you. This is it; you're really in Paris!

You get your luggage and wave the couple goodbye as they drive away, and Donna jumps up and down, making the bells on all her suitcases jingle madly.
"Oh my God, oh my God, Y/N, Paris!"
"Yes, I know," you reply snarkily as she drops her bags and begins to dance around the fountain, "I am also here."

She stops dead in the middle of twirling about, points at something and shouts, "A hotel! Look, a tiny little hotel, right over there between those two alleys, see! Let's go there for the night!"
You sigh and pick up her stuff as well as your own, and follow her slowly to where she's running. Honestly, being Donna's twin sister is so tiring a lot of the time.

Donna is already inside, and you can see through the glass in the door she has slipped behind the counter and is touching all the room keys hung up on the wall.
You struggle through the door with all your stuff, dump it on the floor and hiss, "Donna!"
"What?" she replies back vaguely, still sifting through the keys.
You make your hands into claws, barely refraining from screeching in frustration. "You. Don't. Work here! You shouldn't be back there, wait for whoever works here!"

But before she can reply, you both hear a really Englishly-said, "Excuse-moi," from the top of the staircase near you. Her head whips round, and you quickly tidy the cases around your legs into a small clump so whoever is on the stairs won't fall over them.

The figure comes down further, and you see a tall, rather skinny man, probably the same age as you, probably not French, definitely not used to talking to women by the look on his face, pause on the stairs in a kinda short gingham robe looking uncertain. You and Donna look at him then glance at each other, then at him again.
"Erm, bonjour, er, mademoiselles," the man stutters, rearranging his robe a little then standing awkwardly, "je suis, er, locked out, of me chambres. Bonjour, er, my tray out in door, er, le corridor? En matenaint, je need, un, spare key? Pour, er, re-entree, don la chambre? Sil vous plais, mademoiselles."

You raise an eyebrow. Wow, this poor guy knows as little French as your sister does. Donna looks at you, grinning a little, then says to him, "Sorry, I didn't catch that, could you say it all again please?"
"Sure," the skinny bloke says, missing the English language and accent, and walks down the stairs to her at the counter, "Je suis... wait a second."

You hop over the mountain of luggage and walk up to the counter. You turn to him and whisper, "She doesn't work here."
The man's eyes widen. He looks to Donna, his face a little alarmed and frightened. He reaches for the phone at the desk, "I should ring the police-"
"We'd rather you didn't." Donna is swift to grab the phone off him, and he frowns a little and says, "They would probably all speak in French anyway."

Donna grins and laughs her usual flirty laugh at him, and he smiles in embarrassment. You roll your eyes, already knowing where this is going. It's happened hundreds of time: when you're out, a guy bumps into the two of you, Donna flirts with him because he's cute, he joins you two, then you're pushed out of your own private girl time with your own sister. It's unfair so much of the time - you're cool too, just, you know, less than her.

You lean over the counter and secure the phone in its holder properly from where Donna dropped it, and listen to them talk, Donna with oozes of charisma and this guy with mild uncertainty.
"So, what's your name?"
"Donna. Yours?"
"Harry. Harry Bright."