3.

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Summer 2006
France

"We're staying here?" Ginny asked with her eyebrows creased.

She had spent the whole day avoiding Pierre. Anytime he rushed inside with Timmy, grabbing a glass of lemonade, he sneered at her like she was a waste bin.
His face was scary- the way his lips curled whenever he smirked and proceeded to insult her like she wasn't even there, the way he tried to fight Timmy whenever they had downtime, pinning him to the wall or shoving his shoulders, and the way he couldn't stop staring at people.

Specifically, herself.

If she was so ugly, he sure did like to look at her face. Ginny didn't understand boys. "I thought we were going home."

"No, sweetie." Nicole rubbed her chubby cheek. "We're staying the rest of the week with the Gasly's. Weren't you listening earlier in the car?"

Ginny gulped, wishing she had her blanket to grasp onto. "Can't we just go home, mommy?"

She plopped to her knees, bringing her daughter into a hug. Ginny let out a heavy breath against her mom's chest. Nicole leaned back, still holding her arms tight and smiled. "What's wrong, Ginny? You don't like the kids?"

"There's no one my age."

"Pierre isn't that much older than you, hun. He's Timmy's age and you love Timmy!" Nicole cocked her head to the side, watching as Ginny squirmed under her deep gaze. "Pierre seems like a nice boy doesn't he?"

Ginny didn't say anything. He was nothing like Timmy. He was cruel. But she didn't want to disapoint her parents and complain. She didn't want to be the whiner. She wanted to be strong and get through the week. She nodded slowly, forcing a tiny smile. "Yeah, he is mommy."

Nicole stood again. Ginny turned back to the mirror and watched her mom brush out her hair. The comb tugged at some knots. Ginny winced a few times, feeling the pain as her mom detangled with the pointy side of the comb. The upstairs bathroom was painted a bright blue.

Everything was ocean-themed. The towels were sandy colored and folded neatly over a rack on the wall. Ginny had taken a warm shower, washing off all the sweat from the day. She was ready for bed in her dad's old tee shirt and a pair of shorts- though the shirt acted more like a dress, going nearly to her ankles.

A knock on the door made Ginny jump. Nicole set a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. She turned to the sound and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's me." Pauline said through the door, chewing hard on her gum. "Are you guys almost done?"

Nicole turned the golden knob and pulled the door open, revealing Pauline in her own pajamas. But they consisted of a pair of ripped leggings and a shirt that stopped at her belly button. Ginny wondered if she was even comfortable. "I'm almost finished with Ginny's hair. You want me to do yours too?"

Pauline rolled her chestnut brown eyes, moving behind them as she sat on top of the toilet. "No, I can do my own hair."

"But mommy makes it look really pretty." Ginny tried to make her mom smile, glancing up at her with twinkly eyes.

Pauline hastily groaned, only checking on her freshly painted nails. They were the same color as her gum- maybe a little darker. Ginny wished that her sister would paint her own nails, but Pauline never asked.
"I know how to braid my own hair, idiot."

Ginny turned crimson. She looked back into the mirror with a frown. Nicole slapped Pauline on her knee. "Don't call your sister that!"

Pauline just rolled her eyes in reply, stopping them on Ginny. She stuck her tongue out and stood. "Can I get some space? I need to take a shit."

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