I opened my mouth to ask but then decided not to. Easy to just follow them. I'm sure I would find out why we are wearing white. I walked over to the door where the suitcase was placed. I never recalled it being there last night.
I dragged it into the bathroom with me and closed the door, sighing. Did I even pack something white?
I looked in the bathroom mirror staring at my floor-length white dress. Yep, this was too much. Surely when they meant white dress they didn't mean a full gown. I don't even remember packing this but with the way Adrian was hustling me to pack, I grabbed everything within reach.
I turned around looking at the back and frowning. This was definitely something my mother must have bought me. The back was practically just strings or thread criss-crossing, showing more skin than I liked.
I nearly tripped over all the excess fabric that was the trail as I peeked out of the bathroom door to see Adrian eating a croissant.
"You better leave some for me," I snapped, my stomach growling at the sight of real food. Adrian looked at me, raising an eyebrow as he took a large bite, chewing on it loudly like he was teasing me.
"If you hurry up, then you can eat some. I make no promises. You ready?"
"I don't have anything white."
"You should have packed some," he muttered, reaching over and grabbing what looked like to be a danish. An apple danish, my favourite.
"You made me hurry!"
"What are you wearing now?" asked Adrian as he stood up and took a bite of my apple Danish at the same time. I glared at him as he finished it off while walking toward me. Can someone push the food trolley toward the bathroom? The smell of toast and other various items was making me drool.
"Want some?" asked, Adrian holding out a baguette. I went to reach for it but he laughed and pulled it back. I narrowed my eyes, scrunching up my face in distaste.
"What are you wearing now?"
"This," I said, opening the rest of the door and stepping out. Adrian took one look at me and burst out laughing. I rolled my eyes and crossed my hands over my chest as he continued till he held his sides.
"Sorry," he muttered, standing up.
"You know, I would laugh, too. You look like an idiot," I muttered, and he sort of did with all the white. A good-looking idiot nonetheless. I looked around the room. Where is Darius?
"Sorry. You look great, honestly. That is one hot dress but I don't think you will be able to run in that."
"Run?" I asked. Is someone trying to make me do some physical activity? I can't even remember the last time someone made me run.
"Actually, do you have a singlet and leggings?" he asked.
"I don't know. I have to check because someone made me rush."
Adrian waved a hand as he bit into the edge of the baguette. "Whatever. Put them on. I'll find you a white shirt."
"Why does it have to be white?" I called out as he turned around to leave.
"You'll see."
"I still don't see."
"Gross."
"What?" I asked, swallowing, as I stared at Adrian who was sitting in front of me as I ate my bagel. His face screwed up and he leaned over to wipe my mouth with a tissue paper. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You eat like a starved animal." He leaned back in his chair.
"If someone fed me, I wouldn't be eating like this." I ignored his comment, deciding I wanted to try the apple danish next. There was so much food and so little stomach to have it all. I loosened the knot I did with the white shirt that I wore on top of a black singlet and leggings, still not understanding why we have to wear white.
I nearly died when I tried the danish. It was sweet, crisp and mouthwatering. "This is good," I said with a mouthful, making Adrian just shake his head at me. If he actually finished the food he started, I wouldn't be this hungry.
"Are you guys ready?"
I looked up as I took a sip of my juice and choked, seeing him walk through the door. I looked at Adrian, who was staring right at me with a confused expression.
"Where's Darius?" asked James, looking around. I exchanged a look with Adrian, that's what I would like to know. Where did he go?
James tugged on his white shirt as he walked over to our table. I watched him sit down in the chair like he owned the place, looking around and crossing one leg over another. He was dressed top to bottom in white, only it looked weird on him.
James's eyes met mine and he smiled. I looked away, realising I had been staring. The quietness stilled over the room when another person joined us, my dad. But unlike the others, he just wore a white shirt over his pants.
"So, is anyone going to tell me why everyone is in white?" I asked, directed more at my father and Adrian than the other homo sapiens in the room.
"It’s for the Le terme de couleur, of course," said my father as he looked around. "Where's your husband?" he asked the question everyone was also asking.
"Maybe he's with his secretary, probably doing paperwork," said James as he reached for a glass of water, pointedly staring at me. I matched his gaze. The way he said it implied at something else and for some strange reason, I felt something stir in me.