Sprigs from Ice

Part One// 12. Perch on a branch

The steam from my hot cup of cocoa curled off the surface of the drink and dissipated into the cool spring air. A few rowdy boys on motorbikes zipped past, disturbing the peace of the morning and the pleasant stillness of the cobblestoned street. Kevin muttered the equivalent of 'arseholes' in French under his breath, while I chuckled and scribbled a few notes into the black notebook David had let me have, my tablet propped up in the middle of the table so I could go through the textbook.

For probably the thousandth time since we departed Soho, my phone buzzed again.

"Did you join the bloody mafia or something?"My brother asked. "Why is your phone going off all the damn time?"

"Mum would scold you for your language." I grinned, remembering the lecture he had received as soon as mum had laid eyes on him at Charles de Gaulle.

We'd been here two days already, and even though she'd long forgiven him for 'sneaking off to Portofino', she still kicked us both out of the hotel room so she could work.

The café we'd found a street away served excellent beverages, all manner of cakes and pastries (the croissants and macarons were to die for), and we sat in a neighborhood with scooters and cars parked along a narrow street, balconies overflowing with blossoming flowers in a variety of colours and leaves in different shades of green. There were a few white clouds in the sky, lazily drifting over a clear blue backdrop I knew wouldn't last.

Once I finished my assigned work for the day, we would be free to roam. I couldn't wait. I was in Paris.

"The novelty wears off after a while." Kevin had laughed the first time I saw the Eiffel Tower in person.

Now, he sat glaring at my phone with distaste. "Can't you switch it off?"

"Astrid will hang me for that." I replied. She had demanded pictures of every place we visited, and I intended to take one of this fairytale street and send it to her.

The phone buzzed again. I tapped the screen to reveal the influx of messages.

The Instagram notifications confused me now as much as they had when they started arriving while we were still in England.

bennytetteh started following you.

You have 234 unread messages from 20 people.

stonebwoyjr.gh started following you.

graciemensah started following you.

lovely_kesewaa started following you.

You have 3 unread messages from lovely_kesewaa.

lovely_kesewaa: Heyy

lovely_kesewaa: U good?

lovely_kesewaa: i saw the post on David's page. did u meet him in London?? was it a d8?

None of your business.

The post on David's Instagram page in question was a candid shot of me taken at the café in Soho. I was staring out the window with a soft smile and the paper cup holding my vanilla milkshake between my hands. I looked content and lost in the moment, and maybe that was why I hadn't realized it when he took the picture.

He captioned it with a single white heart emoji.

Cue the sudden influx of followers and demands about the status of our nonexistent relationship. I could've deflected with vague and casual responses, but no one at school was entitled to my private life, so I chose not to engage anyone. I'd only replied to Astrid's DMs.