Chapter 4

Dusty awoke with a start as the train jolted. Shaking her head and trying to gather her senses, she realized it was now dark outside, the interior of the train dimly lit as other passengers also slept. In the center of the table the empty bottle of champagne lay on its side, the plastic glasses nowhere to be seen. Rubbing her eyes, Dusty groaned. How long had she been asleep? She couldn't even remember going through the tunnel.

She looked outside the window but saw only darkness. It was difficult to tell exactly where they were. Across from her, Ashley was fast asleep, bunched up against her designer satchel, which she'd made into a makeshift pillow. Her hair was matted wildly against her head, and her mouth hung open as she let out soft, contented snores.

Stretching, Dusty tried to wake up. She imagined that they couldn't be far now from their stop. As if on cue, a conductor entered the carriage, dressed in a smart navy uniform. Loudly he declared that the next stop would be Paris. Other passengers began to stir and wake upon hearing the news.

"Ashley." Dusty kicked her friend beneath the table. She grunted but did not waken. "Ashley," Dusty said more loudly, kicking again slightly harder. Ashley spluttered and then coughed before slowly opening her eyes. She looked at Dusty in confusion and then turned to look around the carriage.

"Have we been asleep?" she asked, her voice groggy.

"Yes, for quite a while." Dusty yawned.

"Did we go through the tunnel?"

"Yes."

"And we survived?" Ashley's eyes widened with awe, and Dusty realized that her friend was probably still drunk. Deciding to tidy up, Dusty reached forward for the empty bottle but instead made a clumsy pass close by it and sent it clattering across the table. Sighing, she realized that it was not only Ashley who was still feeling the effects of the champagne. "I feel like crap," Ashley moaned, attempting to straighten her hair as best she could. Then she noticed the empty bottle and began laughing. "Did we drink the whole thing?" she asked Dusty, her voice small.

"Well, someone did." Dusty coughed. Her head was starting to throb.

"And you think it was us?" Ashley pressed, the liquor clouding her judgment.

"I'm pretty sure it was us." Dusty managed to smile.

"Where are we?"

"We're nearly in Paris," Dusty updated her friend.

"We are." Ashley beamed, immediately looking out of the window, but unable to see anything through the darkness. But from Dusty's vantage point, she could make out the lights of the city in the distance, lights that they were fast approaching.

"Look there," she instructed Ashley, who turned her head so that she could see.

"Is that Paris?"

"I think so."

"Eee, I'm so excited," Ashley buzzed. "We are going to see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Moulin Rouge." m

"Yeah, it will be amazing," Dusty agreed, her own sense of excitement growing within her, increasing with each thrust of the train as they edged closer to the city famously associated with romance.

"I'm so glad we did this," Ashley declared, her drunkenness bringing on a bout of sincerity.

"Me too," Dusty agreed.

"I'm serious, Dusty. There is no one I'd rather be here with, seeing these sights for the first time. And we will remember this trip for the rest of our lives."

"I know." Dusty smiled.

"Like, we'll be telling our children and our children's children about it all," Ashley continued.

"Will we tell them about the time we went through the Channel Tunnel?" Dusty asked jokingly.

"I'd tell them I was too drunk to remember that." Ashley laughed a little too eagerly, but so did Dusty. As the train finally came to a standstill in Paris, both girls were in fits of giggles, laughing merrily in their shared moment.

****

Dusty tilted her head to the left and squinted at the picture that was behind a pane of bulletproof glass. "It's so small," she declared.

"Mmm," Ashley agreed, glancing at the long line to get close to the picture. "I'm not sure it's worth the wait to see."

"For some reason I always thought that the Mona Lisa would be... bigger."

"Me too." Ashley enthused, her voice rising slightly, which caused some nearby art enthusiasts to scowl at her in annoyance.

"Everyone here is so serious," Ashley said sternly, lowering her voice and mimicking the general consensus.

"People take art seriously." Dusty shrugged. They were standing in the Louvre, the museum that housed the largest collection of art in the world, close to the exhibit of arguably the most famous picture in the world: the Mona Lisa.

"Why do you think she's smiling?" Dusty asked as they headed out of the room, back into the main corridor that snaked through the maze of exhibits.

"I bet it's a guy." Ashley sighed. "Even back then, I bet men were trouble."

"Yeah," Dusty agreed.

"So where next?" Ashley asked as they wandered the corridor, selecting an empty bench to sit at and browse their map of Paris. Ashley had highlighted all the locations she thought they should visit. There was the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower and the nearby wealth of luxurious designer shops. "I mean, we simply have to go to Chanel while in Paris," Ashley said, tapping the spot on the map with her manicured nail.

"Not that we can afford anything in there."

"That's not the point." Ashley shook her head. "Chanel is like an exhibit in itself, like our generation's Mona Lisa."

"That makes our generation sound very consumer oriented."

"But fashion is art," Ashley argued, and Dusty had to nod in agreement. Though she thought of someone who wouldn't be so quick to agree: Kyera. For a brief moment she thought of her in her hospital bed, reading her books, seething about what was wrong with the world. She did miss her. She missed her dark humor and irrepressible opinions. Kyera had an opinion about everything. But Dusty knew she couldn't let her mind linger on her for too long. She needed a distraction from her own thoughts.

"So shall we do the Eiffel Tower or the shops?" Dusty asked, checking her watch. "We've only got time for one if we want to get back to the hotel and change before dinner."

"Okay..." Ashley looked intently at the map, trying to decide how they should spend their afternoon. "The tower is a landmark, and we should see it, really," she began. "But then the shops are a sight to behold in themselves, and shopping is my favorite thing to do, like, ever."

"So you're saying that the Eiffel Tower is too romantic a destination?" Dusty began, forcing a decision from Ashley's comment. "And that, really, as a girls' vacation, we'd be better off shopping?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Ashley beamed. "You're like a mind reader."

"With a specialty in Ashley," Dusty joked.

"Yeah." Ashley's smile fell away slightly, and she looked down sadly at the map.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Ash?"

"You'll be mad at me," Ashley said, her voice small.

"I could never be mad at you," Dusty reassured her. "What's wrong?"

"It's just..." Ashley looked at the map and sighed deeply. "Pierre always said he'd take me up the Eiffel Tower, that's all. And I know that this is a man-free vacation, but being here, in his city, seeing all the things he promised to show me himself, it's hard." Dusty placed a comforting arm around her friend. "Men really do suck," she stated. "I feel stupid for even thinking about him," Ashley lamented, hitting the map in frustration. "I'm sure that he never thinks about me, yet here I am moping on our girls' vacation."

"Ash, it's okay. I mean, I've done my fair share of moping this vacation."

"Guys are just a waste of time." Ashley seethed. "All they do is make us unhappy." Dusty leant her head against Ashley's shoulder, sharing her pain.

"But who is worse?" Dusty asked philosophically. "The fool or the fool that follows them?"

"The fool, definitely," Ashley decided. "The fool shouldn't let anyone follow them in the first place."

"Let's just forget about boys and enjoy our vacation," Dusty said. "I'm sure trying on some overpriced designer items will help you feel better."

"Yes, it will," Ashley agreed. She folded up the map and returned it to her designer satchel. They started to walk down the corridor, but she stopped briefly, looking thoughtful. "I mean, one day we will find the right person, right? It won't always be this hard, be this painful?"

"Of course we will," Dusty answered with complete conviction. "We just haven't found them yet." But Dusty wasn't quite as sure of her latter statement. A part of her felt that she had indeed found the right person for her; it had just never been the right time. Perhaps there never would be a right time. Maybe it was an obscenely rare occasion to discover the right girl also at the right time. Determined not to let them ruin her vacation, Dusty pushed the thought out of her mind and focused on finding a designer shop to lose herself in.