Roman Vault.
I knew him; he was the principal's son. Even if I hadn't heard of him, the blonde hair and soft green eyes would have given him away.
"Won't you at least introduce yourself?" he asked. "Or was I foolish for telling you my name?"
"Apple, that's my name. Apple Rye."
He threw his head back, sighing. "Apple. I haven't heard that name before. You must be the kind of person who doesn't like to involve themselves in anything."
His hair covered his eyes once he brought his head back down, and he moved to my side.
"I'll take care of the things we'll need to do; you can just laze around however you want and enjoy the school trip," he said, grabbing a hat as he walked toward the door.
I turned to him, wondering why he wanted to do it all alone. "I never said I wasn't planning on participating; I'm not someone who leaves group work to just one person."
I heard a small chuckle escape him, then he turned around to face me.
"If you're sure," he said. "Then dress up and follow me."
I stared at him. "Why? It's not like we can go outside yet."
He rolled his eyes, opening the door. "Do you really think the teachers treat me the same way as the rest of the students? They have no say in what I can do and cannot do. So dress up; I'll make sure we're ahead of the other students."
He stepped outside, closing the door after muttering a sentence: "I'll be waiting in the lobby."
I sat on the bed once he left, holding my head because of the pounding headache I was experiencing.
It had begun when we got off the plane.
I stood up and walked to my wardrobe, searching for something to wear.
There were definitely advantages to staying with the principal's son. He probably knew everything the teachers had planned for us, both the exhausting ones and the ones slightly less exhausting.
I could get the exhausting ones done before others, and the others would be easier.
The principal pampered his kids anyway, so the teachers wouldn't want to tell one of them what to do.
Which meant that he and I sharing a room might not cause trouble.
I put on a dress, tying my hair up in a ponytail. It was no use trying to fit in with the people of Paris; I didn't even know their fashion style.
I grabbed my backpack, wearing it as I let one hand hang loosely. A purse would have been better, but my brothers took most of my accessories.
I walked out, not stopping to look at myself in the mirror. It was a dress and a backpack; there wasn't any need for it.
I spotted him once I was near, sitting on a couch with his eyes fixed on his phone.
"Let's go," I said, reaching his spot.
He looked up, moving his eyes till they got to my backpack. "You know we're going to a museum. Can't you drop that shit on your back?"
"It has my necessities inside."
He sighed and got up, stuffing his phone in his left pocket.
"Don't get lost," he said. "Since you don't know the streets of Paris well, just follow behind me."
We left the building, an anxious feeling passing through me. If someone saw us leaving the building or saw us when we came back, it would bring too many questions.
"Are you sure it's okay to have no teacher serve as a tour guide?" I asked. "It's always been compulsory, and it's not like we know the museum well."
"I've been there many times, so I'll be your tour guide this time."
I didn't like his attitude.
I didn't like anyone's attitude, honestly, but the thought of being forced to tolerate this all day exhausted me.
The streets were bustling with life. Now and then came the aroma of fresh pastries, but it was often overpowered by the smell of wet puppies.
"Wait," I said urgently, noticing he had gone way ahead of me.
I caught up to him, though his pace never slowed. Maybe it was because I used to play sports in middle school.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it until it stopped, acting like he didn't hear it.
It vibrated again. Seeming annoyed, he reached into his pocket, pulled it out, and put the call on speaker.
I avoided looking at the phone to see the caller. I didn't want to invade someone's privacy just to satisfy my curiosity.
A familiar voice came from his phone, "Dude, where are you? Have you left already?"
"Yeah," Roman replied. "We'll be there in a few minutes. I didn't take a cab."
"No, dude," the caller said again. His voice sounded more familiar now. "Brandon forgot to book your tickets; don't worry too much, though. I've given him his punishment. Just find another activity."
Roman cursed softly and sighed, "Sure thing, Emmanuel."
Then he ended the call.
"Emmanuel?" I asked instinctively.
Roman turned to me, a sour look on his face. "Do you know him or something?"
"No, it's nothing."
There was nothing more I could say; even lying didn't seem possible right now.
"We're changing locations," Roman announced, gesturing toward a bakery. "We need to learn how to make croissants; we'll have to soon"
I looked at him. "Can't we just learn from YouTube?"
He chuckled, a mocking sound. "That's what everyone does. In every cooking competition, people learn from videos that give minimal knowledge and end up with average scores at best."
He started walking toward the bakery without saying more.
"Are you coming?" he shouted. "Or does this 17-year-old need a stroller?"
I followed hesitantly. The bakery had a blue and pink aesthetic, with 'LADY MARIE BOULANGERIE' written boldly on it.
It was obvious that they were the main source of the fresh pastry aroma outside.
It was larger than I expected and divided into two sections.
One had more vibrant colors, with cups and straws sporting smiling faces, while the other was plain, with pink as the only color.
"Roman, who will we be learning from?"
There was no answer.
I looked to the side, but he was gone.
My eyes landed on the counter, where he was bent over, talking with an elderly woman.
I searched for a place to sit, waiting for him to finish his chat.
"Apple!" a voice suddenly called.
I looked up, surprised to see someone I hadn't seen for months, someone I assumed I would never see again.
Kayden, a tutor my brothers had hired for me about 9 months ago.
But he had received a scholarship to a university in France, and he left.
He took a seat, smiling. "I thought my eyes were playing tricks. That the confusing girl I once taught was here in France."