rounds of class photos on the stone steps outside, Mr. Rhinehart finally ushered us inside. As soon as we stepped into the dimly lit, soaring cathedral my head tipped back in appreciation. It had an old, magical feel to it. A hushed silence fell over our group. Mr. Rhinehart stepped in line to buy the group rate tickets and secure our audio guides for an English-speaking tour. Although it seemed more like a historic monument than an actual church,
We walked the twenty-minutes to get there, and when we crossed the river and saw its two towers standing against the blue sky, it was way better seeing it in person than in a history book photo.
After Notre Dame , Zoey and I grabbed a quick lunch, eating pizza on a park bench. Apparently here you ordered one pizza per person. Zoey and I each got a tomato basil pizza . She didn’t want to take any chances ordering on her own, so she just repeated my order. The pizza was light and thin with a rich to mato sauce and not much chees, and weren’t shaped in a perfect circle like back at home, but I appreciated their imperfections. It was delicious.
“Zoey, I just wanted to tell you, last night was cool—it felt really good talking about John like he was still real. I asked Chelsey to play perverted Scrabble with me once before and she wouldn’t, she told me to grow up.”
“I guess I just like dirty words more than most girls.”
“Well thanks anyways.”
“Anytime,” she said and stuffed the last of the pizza crust into her mouth. As small as she was, the girl could eat.
“So Zoey, tell me something most people don’t know about you.”
“Why?” she asked around the bite of pizza.
“I don’t know, just so we can get to know each other better. I mean we’ve been going to school together our whole lives, but I don’t really know anything about you.”
She swallowed down the pizza and stared at me blankly.
“Okay…I’ll start.” I wiped my mouth. “What do you want to know about me?” I asked.
She studied me and I suddenly felt self-conscious under her gaze. Did I have tomato sauce on my chin? “What did you mean on the plane when you said you wished there wasn’t more to your life than football?”
I ran my hand across my hair. “Ah, next question.”
She rolled her eyes. “How did your brother die?”
Man, she didn’t hold back. “I’d rather talk about him than his death.”
She nodded. “Okay, then tell me something about him.”
“He was three years older than me and I basically worshipped him growing up. I was like his shadow, but he never got annoyed with it somehow. He was a Marine, and when he came back from basic training he was built. That’s when I started working out. I always wanted to be like him, and now that he’s not here—it’s like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Since it’s been a year everyone expects me to be moved on, and my parents don’t even talk about him anymore. Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m talking about this—I don’t mean to be such a downer.”
“I’m not really one for sunshine and rainbows if you haven’t noticed.”
“You’re alright, Zoey Marshall.”
“And you’re not as bad as I would’ve guessed.” She slugged my shoulder.
“Thanks?”
“Come on, we gotta get back,” she said, standing up, brushing crumbs from her lap.
“Hey—you didn’t tell me anything about you.”
“Just ask me something. What do you want to know?” she asked.
I thought for a second, trying to come up with something that would make her laugh. “Were you really wearing a bikini when I saw you at the Laundromat?”
She glared at me like I was a perv . “That’s what you want to know?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “What? I am a guy. I was just curious.”
“Well for your information, yes. Bathing suit bottoms can double for underwear in a pinch. I figured it was better than wearing nothing.”
I considered it and nodded. I hoped she couldn’t tell my neck was turning
We walked the twenty-minutes to get there, and when we crossed the river and saw its two towers standing against the blue sky, it was way better seeing it in person than in a history book photo.
After Notre Dame , Zoey and I grabbed a quick lunch, eating pizza on a park bench. Apparently here you ordered one pizza per person. Zoey and I each got a tomato basil pizza . She didn’t want to take any chances ordering on her own, so she just repeated my order. The pizza was light and thin with a rich to mato sauce and not much chees, and weren’t shaped in a perfect circle like back at home, but I appreciated their imperfections. It was delicious.
“Zoey, I just wanted to tell you, last night was cool—it felt really good talking about John like he was still real. I asked Chelsey to play perverted Scrabble with me once before and she wouldn’t, she told me to grow up.”
“I guess I just like dirty words more than most girls.”
“Well thanks anyways.”
“Anytime,” she said and stuffed the last of the pizza crust into her mouth. As small as she was, the girl could eat.
“So Zoey, tell me something most people don’t know about you.”
“Why?” she asked around the bite of pizza.
“I don’t know, just so we can get to know each other better. I mean we’ve been going to school together our whole lives, but I don’t really know anything about you.”
She swallowed down the pizza and stared at me blankly.
“Okay…I’ll start.” I wiped my mouth. “What do you want to know about me?” I asked.
She studied me and I suddenly felt self-conscious under her gaze. Did I have tomato sauce on my chin? “What did you mean on the plane when you said you wished there wasn’t more to your life than football?”
I ran my hand across my hair. “Ah, next question.”
She rolled her eyes. “How did your brother die?”
Man, she didn’t hold back. “I’d rather talk about him than his death.”
She nodded. “Okay, then tell me something about him.”
“He was three years older than me and I basically worshipped him growing up. I was like his shadow, but he never got annoyed with it somehow. He was a Marine, and when he came back from basic training he was built. That’s when I started working out. I always wanted to be like him, and now that he’s not here—it’s like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Since it’s been a year everyone expects me to be moved on, and my parents don’t even talk about him anymore. Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m talking about this—I don’t mean to be such a downer.”
“I’m not really one for sunshine and rainbows if you haven’t noticed.”
“You’re alright, Zoey Marshall.”
“And you’re not as bad as I would’ve guessed.” She slugged my shoulder.
“Thanks?”
“Come on, we gotta get back,” she said, standing up, brushing crumbs from her lap.
“Hey—you didn’t tell me anything about you.”
“Just ask me something. What do you want to know?” she asked.
I thought for a second, trying to come up with something that would make her laugh. “Were you really wearing a bikini when I saw you at the Laundromat?”
She glared at me like I was a perv . “That’s what you want to know?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “What? I am a guy. I was just curious.”
“Well for your information, yes. Bathing suit bottoms can double for underwear in a pinch. I figured it was better than wearing nothing.”
I considered it and nodded. I hoped she couldn’t tell my neck was turning
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