Midnight, The Stars & You

1.

Summer 2006
France

"Kids, I'd like you to meet some friends." Marc pressed his hand against his daughter's back. She stood in the sweltering heat, feeling a few beads of sweat trickle down her spine. Her chestnut colored hair was stringy and blew in the wind. "These are our friends Jean and Pascale."

"Bonjour." Timothée and Pauline greeted the adults in French. The six year old wished her siblings would teach her the language, but they never took the time too. She decided to wave instead.

"Say hello." Marc whispered in the same romantic language, nudging his daughter in the side.

She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She felt nervous, watching the adults as they leaned over to listen. Their kids were a few steps away, looking bored as ever. She swallowed hard, hoping she could project her voice.

"Hello." She finally spat out, but in English.

A snicker erupted from the light brunette on the end. He held a hand up to his mouth, trying to hide his laughter. She could feel her cheeks heating up- not from the sun, but of embarrassment. The boy stood across from her eldest sibling, but his sea green eyes trailed over to her sinking feet. She wanted to go back in the car and go home.

Marc patted her shoulder, chuckling under his raspy breath. "My youngest, Genevieve."

"But she goes by Ginny." Timothée looked down at her and winked. That made her smile. "I'm Timothée, middle child."

"Marc tells me you're the same age as my youngest." Jean pointed to the boy who snickered. He stuck out his hand to her brother, waiting for him to shake it. He must've been instructed to that by his dad. Otherwise, what ten year old shakes hands with someone their own age.

"Pierre." The boy said with a mischievous grin.

Timothée awkwardly took his hand and they shook until their fingers turned pale. He glanced at the oldest sibling and nodded, "This is my older sister Pauline."

"Comment allez-vous." She said flatly. She looked like she didn't want to be there. Her brown eyes were glossed over in annoyance- probably directed at their parents.

Jean and Pauline nodded their heads and proceeded to introduce their children. There were a lot of them- five in total, but not all of them looked alike. When they got to Pierre, he just skimmed their faces, not even smiling for the adults. Ginny wanted to leave even more now. They didn't have any kids her age.

Too old or too young.

That always seemed to be the problem.

"Why don't you kids go play around back? There's a trampoline!" Pascale shoo'd them off with a flick of her hands. "Pauline, if you'd like, you can head inside and watch tv."

She grinned, casting a look at Marc and their mom, silently asking if it was okay. Nicole smiled at her daughter, sending Pauline on her way inside the unknown house.

"Can I go with Pauly?" Ginny grabbed onto Marc's pants. They were loose and dark black like slacks. He rubbed the top of her warm head.

"Stop calling me that." Pauline groaned, side-stepping Pierre as he tried to get in her way. She was inside before Ginny could protest. Marc bent down and tried to soften the blow.

"Why don't you go play with the other kids, Hm?"

Ginny gulped her pride and trailed behind her older brother. Timothée was walking beside Pierre- the two of them talking about boy stuff. Something about race cars. She stayed silent, blindly following them into the backyard. The house was sat on top of a big hill that overlooked the city. There was a ton of grass and pasture in between. The sun was high in the sky, casting a beautiful glow over the brick home.

"So you're trying to be a formula one racer?" Timothée asked Pierre with an eyebrow raised. The two of them were both skinny and frail, but her brother was like a ghost compared to the tanned boy with freckled skin.

"Yes." Pierre nodded, pointing over to the miniature race track a few yards down the hill. "I have no doubt I'll be one."

What kind of kid talks like that, Ginny wondered?

"Cool." Timothée ran a hand through his curls, before letting it fall back against his side. "I'm trying to be a famous actor one day. You know my mom did broadway?"

Pierre glanced over skeptically. "Broadway?"

"Like plays and shit." Timothée cursed, which made him slap a hand over his mouth before chuckling. "Sorry, don't say anything Ginny."

It was the first time she'd been acknowledged. She shrugged her shoulders, still hiding behind his lanky frame. "I won't, Timmy."

"Timmy?" Pierre held back a giggle.

Timothée flushed pink, but didn't snap back at Ginny for calling him by his childhood nickname. "Yeah, it's easier than saying my full name all the time, right?"

They had finally made it to the trampoline. Pierre was taking off his shoes, getting ready to hop in. "You should be proud of your name. It's French. And you speak French... unlike your sister."

Ginny felt taken aback. She glanced at her brother, making sure he'd just heard the insult. He was rubbing the back of his neck, looking unsure of what to say.

"My parents don't feel like teaching her. They wanted my sister to, but she's not interested. And I don't really speak it all too well, myself."

Pierre switched to French, but Ginny could pick up on a few words. She liked that she could eves drop, but hated she wasn't able to have full conversations. And she probably never, unless she took professional lessons.

"Does she always follow you around like a lost puppy too?" Pierre shot her a snarl.

Timothée forced a laugh, eyeing his sister with a hint of sympathy. "She just wants to get on the trampoline."

"Well that sucks, because no girls allowed." Pierre grinned wickedly. "Unless it's your other sister. She can come anytime."

Ginny let out a frustrated huff. "You're mean."

Pierre crossed his arms, leaning against the blue shield of the trampoline. "And you're ugly."

Ginny felt some tears in her eyes. Timothée didn't say anything either, which made her feel worse. She backed away, and ran to her parents. Timothée tried to call after her but she was already to her mom. She wiped away her tears and pulled on a smile.

"Mommy, it's kind of hot outside. Can I go inside now?"

Nicole bent her knees and nodded. "I suppose, honey."

Pascale pointed inside and smiled, "There's lemonade to cool off, sweetie."

"Thanks." Ginny smiled.

She walked away, feeling her shoulders slump. Her summers in France were always fun, but now it felt like she was doomed for eternal teasing. Especially if Pierre was going to be involved.