Although on the first day, all students were required to take a tour of the Louvre together, the rest of the trip was pretty much free rein. They all had a chaperone that they would have to check in with in the morning and at the set curfew, but as long as they complied, they were free to roam the city and do anything they chose. 

On second day of the trip, Madeline, Luna, Dylan, Carson, Zach, and Jason decided to take a guided tour of the Palace of Versailles. However, the tour required a lot more walking than Jason or Zach anticipated; they spent the first portion of the tour alternating between complaining about having to walk so much so early in the morning, and trying to bribe the tour guide into letting them take a nap in Louis XVI's bed. In Zach's words, 'it's not like he has a head to rest on the pillow anymore!'

The six of them only made up half of the tour group, and most of the other tourists were much older and actually interested in learning the history of the palace. 

"I feel like if Marie Antionette was alive during our time, she would totally get a kick out of Tide Pods," Jason said, breaking his four minutes of silence, which began after an old lady told Jason he might grow a brain cell if he stayed quiet and listened during the tour. "I can so see her popping one open and waterfalling it into her mouth."

"Thank God," Dylan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I thought you forgot how to speak."

"I'll give you credit for that one, J," Madeline started, keeping her voice low. "That's not the dumbest hypothetical you've ever come up with."

The hallway seemed to have a bit of echo, because Madeline's voice carried enough for them to earn some disapproving looks from older members in their tour group. Luna shushed her friends, and then ten seconds later let out an audible gasp when they entered into Marie Antoinette's private chambers. 

"Her bedroom is large than my house!" She exclaimed. 

"Well, she was known to be extravagant," Dylan responded. 

"That, and if you wanted to hide away from your ugly, immature husband with erectile dysfunction, might as well give yourself a large enough room to not feel like a prisoner," Madeline added in. 

"That's certainly an interesting approach to her character," another member of their tour group chided, inserting themself into their conversation. 

Maddie shrugged, "Marie Antoinette was born into beauty, wealth, and royalty, and married off to a crown prince of a foreign country at the age of fourteen. No one ever asked how she felt about it or taught her the responsibility she would have to an entire country. They created a spoiled, apathetic brat who quite literally did not know to consider life outside of palace gates. She is what she was made."

The entire tour group was looking at Madeline now, some looked offended, others looked curious, and the tour guide looked frustrated, with his lips pressed firmly in a straight line. He seemed to be saying 'Am I the guide, or are you?' with his eyes, which gave her the impression that he saw Marie Antoinette as a villain of her own making, and suddenly she didn't feel so bad about disrupting him. Madeline offered them all a shrug before turning to move closer to the bed. 

"Why do we always have to get so philosophical?" Jason groaned quietly. "Can't we ever just poke fun at history without getting all thinky?" Zach patted Jason's shoulder sympathetically in solidarity. 

The tour guide had started speaking again, and those who wanted to listen did, and those who didn't got distracted by the mass of trinkets and decorations spread across Marie's rooms. 

Most of the tour passed by in a similar fashion. They would enter a room, Luna would be awestruck, Jason would propose a really stupid question (something like: 'Louis XV gives raging iPad kid vibes; he would so jam out on Club Penguin'), he'd be condemned by someone else in the group, Madeline or Dylan would entertain Jason's question with logic, the tour guide would get upset and speak over them, they'd wander around the room, Zach would nearly bump into something (most likely very fragile and expensive), and they'd move on to the next room to do it all over again. 

Everyone in the tour group, especially the tour guide, was relieved to be in the last room of the tour, the Hall of Mirrors. The large gallery room was considered the best and most famous part of Versailles for a reason. The room was lavishly decorated with golden statues, and crystal chandeliers that would let out a quiet, melodic chime on the occasion of a draft, and large arching windows that looked over the beautiful gardens. The ceiling was covered in beautiful paintings, and the walls were full of intricate carvings. 

Jason held out his hand to Luna. "May I have zis dance, mademoiselle?" He asked in possibly the worst fake French accent ever attempted. 

Luna rolled her eyes, "Absolutely not."

"You're no fun," He pouted. 

"Hey, Jason," Dylan said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Remember that really peaceful time where you didn't say anything for a while?"

"Yeah?"

"Great. Let's go back to that."

Jason gave a discouraged scowl, but actually complied and stayed silent as they scattered around the large hall. Luna and Maddie had gone to look out one of the windows on the far side of the room, Carson had stuck around with the tour guide and was talking to him near the center of the room, Zach was walking directly down the middle with his head pointed up toward the ceiling, and Jason was about to play with the chains of one of the lower chandeliers before Dylan came and swatted his hand away. 

More tour groups arrived to the Hall of Mirrors as others left, but the room was still pretty full. Luna wanted a picture somewhere in the room, and she tried for having most of the hall visible behind her, but every single photo Madeline took was photobombed by multiple people. 

"Why don't you take one in front of one of the windows?" Madeline suggested, hiding her irritation as best she could– they'd been at this for five minutes now. 

"Fine," Luna agreed, leading them back over to a window that wasn't crowded by other visitors. She twirled around to face Madeline and posed for the photo, but Madeline was only able to snap another couple of pictures before the playing of loud, classical music startled them. 

Luna peered over Madeline's shoulder and her face scrunched up with a horrified look. "It's Jason," she said blankly. "He brought a speaker."

Other people had noticed the sudden music as well, and were turning to find the source of the disturbance. 

"Oh, and now he's dancing," Luna continued, her eyes widening. "By himself. He looks really stupid."

Madeline spun around to see for herself what Jason was doing. In the center of the room, Jason was swaying along to the French classical music produced by the speaker he was hugging to his chest. On any other occasion, Jason making a fool out of himself in a public space would be funny, normal even. However, Jason making a fool out of himself in one of the most historic museums in the world was a slightly different story. 

"He's going to get us kicked out," Maddie whispered to Luna, and she quickly scanned over the room to see other visitors' reactions. Her eyes caught Carson's across the room and he simply nodded his head. 

The next five minutes all passed in a blur. Carson attempted to ease the situation by asking an older woman from their tour group to dance with him. Nearly everyone was watching as he entertained her for a minute or so before an employee politely asked Jason to turn off the music. Dylan grabbed Jason's arm and started yanking him out of the room with Zach, Luna, and Maddie all trailing behind them. Carson parted from the woman with a bow and a charming smile before dashing off to catch his friends. As they made their way out of the museum, Jason was politely asked to not return to Versailles anytime in the near future. 

"Well, so much for seeing the gardens," Maddie said, keeping her tone light-hearted. 

"Please," Jason scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "It's just flowers and bushes, anyways. You can see those anywhere."

Despite never making it to the exterior of Versailles, they had spent nearly half of the day touring the museum, and were all pretty content with climbing onto a bus back to Paris. Zach and Carson took seats in the back, and Zach passed out almost as soon as he rested his head against the window; Carson dissociated and put in air pods to tune everyone else. Across the aisle from them, Jason was still almost irritatingly hyper and talkative, but Dylan was having none of it, and looked beyond frustrated. Luna and Maddie sat a couple of rows in front of them; Luna rested her head on Maddie's shoulder, and Maddie placed her head on top of Luna's, trusting that Dylan would make sure they all got off at their stop. 

*

"Absolutely not," Dylan said, making a face as he shoved the fork away from him. "Get that shit away from my face."

Jason continued laughing, even as Dylan slapped his wrist away, nearly sending the fork to the floor. "Oh come on," he taunted. "Don't be a baby."

Dylan rolled his eyes, "I'll take a bite when you do."

That shut Jason up real quick, and he turned in his seat to face Zach, wagging the forkful of escargot in front of his mouth. "I'll give you ten bucks," he tried. 

"You still owe me ten from eating that donut out of a dumpster," Zach responded, and everybody else visibly cringed. "And another fifteen from when the Braves lost. And another thirty from that time you made me buy you a pregnancy test."

Madeline's ears perked at that. "I'm sorry, what?"

Jason shrugged, "I like to start drama."

She nodded her head and leaned back in her seat. If anything she was more confused now, but she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know anything further. She decided to withdraw herself from the conversation and focused on the sun, quickly disappearing over the horizon and taking all of orange-tinted rays with it, through the floor-to-ceiling window across. 

After getting back to the hotel from Versailles, the six made a unanimous decision to take a nap. Somehow, they all managed to sleep through the dinner the hotel offered free for all of the students on the class trip. The girls most likely would have slept even longer if Jason didn't burst into their room – how he got a key, they did not even bother to ask – and jumped from bed to bed until both Madeline and Luna were responsive. 

Somehow that led to all of the guys coming into the girls' room, and making the quick decision to go on one of those dinner cruises on the Seine. The dress code for the boat ride was a little more strict than most other places they had been, so they set their reservation for a later boat in order to give them enough time to shower and clean up their appearances.

"Carson, I'll give you ten bucks if you take a bite!" Jason said, holding out the fork to Carson now, an eager grin on his face. 

Madeline didn't like how much of her attention was devoted to Carson tonight– he was a man of many talents for sure, and that included being an exceptional dresser. His long hair had been gelled back, but a few rogue waves and the loose fringe hanging down on his forehead created an intentionally unkempt look to his hair. His cheeks were just slightly sunburnt, giving his face a beautiful pink flush right under his green eyes. He wore a black, dress shirt, but he had left the top three buttons undone, exposing his tan chest and the silver chain that always hung around his neck. 

This was another thing that bothered her: they had accidentally matched tonight– again. She couldn't fault him, since nearly all of his wardrobe was black, but wearing a long, black dress that matched him perfectly, and sitting on the seat to his right at the round table, did wild things for her imagination. 

She watched as he took a deep inhale, while eyeing the fork over. He ran his tongue over his teeth with his mouth closed as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. Jason sat up straighter, anticipating Carson's response. 

"No," Carson responded sharply. Jason looked shocked and disappointed, giving Carson more than enough time to quickly and calmly remove the fork from Jason's hand before he recovered enough to protest. He placed the fork out of Jason's reach before settling and resting his weight on his elbows. "Why'd we even accept it?"

"It's traditional French food!" Jason argued, obviously still upset with Carson. "You can't go to Paris and not have escargot!"

"None of us eat it," Carson deadpanned, his lips turned into a frown. They were stained a darker red from the wine, something Madeline was acutely aware of. 

Jason continued on with senseless reasoning and complaints pertaining to the uneaten escargot. Carson raised a brow to give the appearance he was listening, but eventually reclined against the back of the chair and stared vacantly at Jason. He grabbed his half-full wine glass by the neck of the stem between his index and middle fingers. He lifted the glass to his parted lips, tilting the glass high and letting the wine slide into his mouth. 

Madeline hadn't realized she was still staring at Carson until his half-lidded eyes landed on her. She didn't bother looking away; she knew she had been caught, and, if anything, she could blame it on the two glasses of wine she had drank tonight. But Carson didn't look away either. He looked directly into her as he drank, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. As he got to the last of the wine in his glass, he tilted his head back and allowed his eyes to fall shut. The glass left his lips with an almost inaudible sigh before he opened his eyes, falling back to Madeline's immediately. Without diverting his gaze, he placed the empty wine glass back on the table. 

He licked his lips and opened his mouth to say something, but Madeline was already pushing her chair away from the table. She stood up quickly, placing her napkin on the table as she excused herself, most likely heading for the bathroom near the back of the boat. 

Carson sighed and watched her walk away until she disappeared behind the staircase that led to the open-air level of the boat, located in the middle of the dining room. He turned his attention back to the rest of the group, who were still carrying on about escargot. 

"Oh my God," Luna groaned. "You all are such babies." She leaned forward in her seat and stabbed one of the untouched escargot with her fork. 

"You're not serious," Zach gawked, eyes wide. 

"No way," Dylan challenged. 

"Don't do it," Jason gasped, as Luna settled back down in her seat, fork still in her hand. "Luna, no!" Before he fully closed his mouth, Luna shoved her fork into Jason's mouth, catching him off-guard. He tried to let out a noise of protest, but it was too late– the cooked snail had already infiltrated his mouth. 

"Serves him right," Dylan snickered as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Luna had a devious smirk on her face as she let go of the fork, leaving Jason to decide if he wanted to make a full out of himself by spitting out the food in such a formal setting. They all watched with amusement as Jason's face scrunched while he chewed slowly. With a loud gulp, he swallowed down the escargot. 

"Well?" Carson asked, the corner of his lips curling up. 

Jason considered for a moment before shrugging. "I've had worse. Kind of tasted like clams."

Madeline arrived back to the table just as desert was brought to the table, and muttered a quick apology to her friends as she slid back in her seat. Carson watched her patiently, but she didn't look at him again for the rest of the meal. 

Outside, the sky had gone fully dark, and all of the guests on the boat were invited to go the upper-deck. The six all scarfed down the last of their plates before heading up to the open-air level and moving toward the bow of the boat. 

It quickly grew less spacious as more people flooded up from inside. Somehow Madeline ended up with her back just inches from Carson's chest. She tried to ignore his presence the best she could, but she could feel the heat radiating off of him and his breath on the back of her neck. 

The wind picked up quite a bit as the boat sailed on in the direction of the dock, which was still out of eyesight. Madeline shivered during an especially powerful gust of wind, and she regretted not bringing a sweater with her.

As another breeze passed by, she felt a weight drop on her shoulders, followed by warmth. She looked down to find a sweater resting on her, the arms of the sweater falling limply to her sides. She didn't need to turn around or look too closely at the sweater to figure out who had put it on her. 

"Carson," she breathed out, keeping her eyes focused on the water. 

"What?" He asked, his voice giving away nothing. "You're cold, aren't you?"

"No," she responded. "I'm shivering because it's what all the cool kids are doing these days."

"Funny," he chided. She could practically feel him rolling his eyes. "A simple thank you would suffice."

She twisted her head up to the left so that she could look at him. He kept his head held up straight and wouldn't return her gaze. His jaw was set and his lips were pressed in a firm line. 

"You can't do this," she said softly, speaking in a hushed tone. There were too many people around, their friends included, that she really didn't want overhearing them. 

"Do what, exactly?"

"Make gestures like this," Madeline explaining, grabbing hold of one of the sleeves of the sweater, waving it around in the air a bit.

"Why not?"

"It's something people in a relationship would do," she continued, her words losing conviction the longer she went on. "And we're not...people...in a relationship."

"I know," Carson sighed and finally angled his head down to look at her. "Sometimes I just forget."

"You forget?" She questioned her eyebrows raising in disbelief. He nodded. "Did you forget just now?"

He shook his head, brows furrowing. "No. No, I just didn't care."

"Oh," she breathed out, returning her head to its original position. The dock was in sight now, if you squinted hard enough to make out some of the other boats already docked for the night. "Oh."

Another strong gust of wind fanned across her skin, blowing the hair off of her shoulders and billowing her dress. She hugged the sweater around her, but it did little to warm her with the constant wind. 

She felt hands on her shoulder, gently pulling her back. She took it as an invitation to lean back into his chest, relaxing into its warmth. The hands slid down her arms, soothing down the goosebumps before wrapping around her waist, pulling her in even closer. 

"What was is this time?" She asked as he settled his head on top of hers. "Did you forget or just not care?"

"Neither," he responded. "I just missed it."