“Jeez, I’d forgotten girls could be that violent!”
“It’s a pillow fight; typical young female behaviour, usually it takes place at sleepovers in pyjamas or sometimes in underwear, or so you would believe after studying any number of sit coms, rom coms, fem coms – “
“Yeah, cause I dunno about you mate but that’s what I do with my free time.....
that was sarcasm, by the way.”
The second part I'd added after hearing no reply from Ethan; we’d ducked out of the girls’ room and into the safety of our own - double - bedroom, the window of which was open and offered a typical view of a Parisian street of terraced apartments. Bright yellow flowers lolled out of window boxes on the balcony opposite; a busker was playing his guitar on the steps below; even two pretty girls passed by, talking softly and linked in arm – is this for real? And I am talking pretty pretty here, not just fit as but with long skirts that rippled when they took a step, and those high sweet voices that had never been near a cigarette in their life, and, everything. Boy am I a sucker for the pretty ones, with the big blue eyes and the long blonde hair...
“Sugar and spice and all things nice, that’s what the girls are made of, eh?”
I watched them walk past, wondering if they’d look up and spot an untidy boy peering down on their walk - panicking if perhaps they’d heard me, French or not - if they’d smile, and what I’d do if they did. Of course, it didn’t happen.
“No, you do something much more constructive with your time, don’t you, Lord Sparximilian?”
A few seconds had passed but it took me a while to realise his comment was some kind of comeback, although whether in jest or not it was hard to tell.
I turned around from the window to see the look on his face, and gladly found him still bright and smiling, the same Ethan who had offered a fact about every single monument on the taxi trip here whilst counting up all his change in Euros in a quiet voice so the driver didn’t hear. For a second he’d sounded like he had the potential to be bitter and sarcastic, two words I’ve never associated with the guy before, and I’d known him what, ten years now? Mind you, he was pretty pissed off with me on the plane over that food, even if he didn’t show it other than breaking the cutlery. I guess I forget sometimes that there are things some people just don’t want to be known about their childhood...well, that’s hypocritical of me. C’mon Sparx, there must be a way to make it up to him?
“What, cause you weren’t looking at that magazine right along with me cool man?” I retorted almost instantly, keeping up the light-hearted tone. It worked; he turned back to unpacking, refolding and replacing his clothes in the wooden drawers he’d designated as his already, whilst I sat on the small cushioned ledge by the window and looked around our room. It wasn’t any bigger than the girls’ room, with the same stripes on the walls – I’d call them white but the girls would bite my head off, it’s probably some funny shade like eggshell or what – and funny fringey lampshades everywhere, but as it only had the one bed it appeared to have more floor space, which was currently littered with my clothes, shoes and toiletries (maybe emptying the bag to find a decent shirt wasn’t the best idea I’d had today).
Okay, how about grub for grub, to cheer him up? (Dude you just made a rhyme in your head! Well, sort of...)
See, I’d just caught sight of the utmost temptation of the internal phone on the table closest to me, the link to the forbidden world of...
« Bonjour…erm, yes, hello, room service? » -Ethan’s head pricked up- « ...Oui, un petit, erm, continental breakfast»- his mouth dropped open – «à room 28, s’il vous plait.. »
« Oui Monsieur, qu’arrivera tout de suite… »
« Merci, au revoir…»
“Hey Ethan,” I grinned at him across the room, “You can thank me later. And by the way, the maid sounds hot.”
Now THAT's got to have done the trick... I may as well stake my share of the room now. I got up, stretched, yawned and in one casual(ly awesome) movement fell face down on top of the entire bed. Well, it had to be done...