Letters to Audrine

11- Like Lemon

It's been three weeks since I've been in France. Audrine let me take her on a date last night. It was spectacular. My parents were out late socializing with clients, so it was easy to sneak out of the hotel to meet her at the bar. I liked her laugh, and I liked that I was able to make her laugh so much. I liked to hear her talk too, and she told me a lot about her life here, about her family, and how she likes working at the hotel and learning how to bake there. She told me about her dream to open up a restaurant of her own some day.

I only have two more months here, but I'm going to spend every second of it getting to know as much as possible about Audrine. I want to know every single thing about her, what makes her tick, what makes her smile. I want to smell her hair every morning, and feel her skin every night. Two months isn't nearly as much time as I need, but I'll make do with what I've got.

Reading this today feels like fate because it's been almost exactly three weeks since I've been in France as well. I feel like I almost could have written this journal entry from my grandpa. Like we're the same person, living the same timeline, just in different decades.

That makes me think about what will happen in two months when I go back to the States. I've been messaging Silas back and forth for the past few days since the kiss, but we haven't really talked about what this relationship is. But does it even make sense to put a label on it, when we know that it won't last more than a few months?

Maybe it doesn't make sense to even kiss at all, knowing that the end is in sight, and it's inevitable. But I can't believe that kissing him is the wrong move, because it felt so right. Even now, three days later, I still can't stop thinking about it. And when I start thinking about that kiss, I start thinking about what it would feel like if that kiss continued. What it would be like to feel his tongue on my lips, to feel his hands on me.

Getting distracted by the vivid imagery floating around in my mind, I'm snapped back into reality when I get a Skype message.

"Salut, butt smasher," Silas greets me using my Skype username. He'll never let me live that down. "Are you ready for our dinner competition tonight? Or are you too scared?"

I have been kind of dreading this mac and cheese vs. whatever-he-makes challenge, because I know that I'll lose. And I hate losing. But I do love spending time with Silas more, so I don't back out. I'm laying out at the pool in the back of the hotel I've been staying at, so it'll take some time for me to get up and ready, but it's only two in the afternoon, so we have plenty of time before dinner.

The sun is begging me to stay put in my relaxing daybed by the pool, luring me into a sense of calm as it soaks every inch of my skin except for the pale parts that are hidden by my bikini. I message Silas back saying that I'll be there in an hour and a half, which should give me enough time to cool my sun kissed skin in the pool a little bit before returning to my room to shower and get dressed.

I feel like I've gotten pretty tan during my stay here in France because when I'm not spending time with Audrine and Silas, I'm usually spending my time at the pool either swimming or sunbathing. It's a small hotel, so not many people are ever out there. I think I'm the only person that has stayed for so long, because it seems like the strangers I see at the pool have been rotating out each week. Some families, some couples, some people just by themselves. But they never seem to stay for very long.

Today, I'm just wearing jeans and a floral tank top. My damp hair pulled into a ponytail to keep it out of my face. I don't put on makeup today, only slather some chapstick onto my lips in an attempt to keep them soft.

Before I leave, I make sure to apply a hefty amount of deodorant to my pits and underboobs to avoid any sweat smell from my walk to the house. The weather today is a bit cooler than it usually is, but I can never be too safe about underboob sweat.