City Lounge: Paris (Book One, Chapter Fourteen: Chasing Simone)

Chapter Fourteen: Chasing Simone:

After lunch, Simone led me to the park. My senses were on high as we kept walking. What exactly was she planning this time? Simone looked over her shoulder at me.

“Will,” she said. I lifted my head.

“Yes?” I asked.

“What do you think of Paris?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Do you want to go back to the States?”

“I haven’t thought about that.” To tell the truth, I never thought about much for my own future. Ever since high school graduation, I just seemed to follow Paula’s lead. What did I really want?

Simone turned around to me. “So then tell me, what do you want in life?”

I shrugged, shaking my head. She frowned and held up her arms in the air. Uh-oh, she’s about to do something crazy. Simone lowered her arms to her sides. I watched as she walked up to me. Chills broke out all over my body as her lips came within inches of my left ear.

“Catch me if you can,” she whispered.

“What?” I asked, turning my head. She backed up, giggling. Before I could say a word, Simone took off running. At first, I stood there was a dumb look on my face. As she disappeared further down the dirt path, what I was supposed to do next came to me.

“Hey, wait up!” I shouted. I took off running after that laughing indigo queen. I had no idea how big Parc Monceau was. I didn’t even see Simone anywhere in sight. She just disappeared as I tried to keep up with her. Where the hell did she go? Lucky for me that it is March and not really that cold. However, Simone has the advantage as she knows her way too well around this park.

That’s when it donned on me, that I really don’t know the city that I had come to live in for close to a year and a half now. Most of my life here was work, home, the occasion beach, and whatever random club that Paula and Hugo happened to drag me out to at the time. The traitor had been the more adventurous between her and me. I couldn’t remember a time where the two of us just stayed home for a night. Paula always insisted on going out.

“Can’t we just stay in and order take-out?” I asked, watching TV in 2015. She stood at the door, pouting.

“But that’s so boring!” she complained.

“I don’t want to go out again,” I said. “We went out last night. Besides, I can’t keep up with you.” Paula walked in front of me, blocking the screen. I tried to look past her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Huh?” I asked back.

“Why can’t you keep up with me?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Ever since we were transferred to Paris, all you want to do is go out and party. We have to save money to live in the city.” I buried my head in my hands. “You have changed and I don’t like it.”

Paula groaned and puffed up her hair. “Fine, I’ll go without you.” I waved her off.

“Okay,” I said before changing the channel. She walked out the door without a single work. That’s probably when she started to betray me.

I ran across the stone bridge. Come to think of it, Simone and Paula are a lot alike. They both don’t give me any time to rest. I just follow their leads with many questions that go unanswered. They are both pretty attractive. (Well, Paula’s got that big forehead of hers.) They don’t seem to take no for any answer. Both of them seemed to be in love with the night life. They were both quite stylish. They could have any guy that they wanted. I can’t understand why both like me so much.

However, there is one glaring difference between the two.

Where I could figure the traitor out, I don’t have the sightliest clue about who Simone is. So far, I am still at square one at figuring out the puzzle that is Simone. At lunch, she kept dodging all of my questions. Instead, she talked some of the latest clubs and bars at that opened up around the city. Simone took in the French pop music playing in the cafe as she ate. For some reason, I enjoyed watching her eat. Something about the way she handed a fork and knife looked classy in a hippie-type way. That went double when she switched over to her hands. For once, I didn’t mind not having my questions answered over lunch or not talking much at all.

By this point, I lost sight of Simone and her indigo braids. I sighed and rubbed the back of my head. Is she doing this just to fuck with me? Still, this is part of her game and I have to play along. I looked around for any passers-by to help me out. Yes, it is true. The French can be pretty rude. The trick is to find somebody in a good mood and you will get something out of them that is helpful. I spotted an elderly couple walking by and jogged over to them. In my best French I asked if they saw a woman with indigo braids run by here. The old lady pointed down the path that I needed to go. I quickly thanked them and ran down the dirt path.

I finally tracked Simone down at the Rotunda. She walked around in front of the building with her arms behind her head. I ran over to her. That indigo queen looked over as I caught up to her. I paused to catch my breath.

“Found you,” I said at last. Simone pulled me into her arms.

“Kiss me,” she commanded. As if under a spell, I had no choice but to comply.

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