Three and a half hours can be long or short, depending on your destination and your mode of travel. In our case, it was both short and long. Short because it was just a three and a half hour train ride compared to the twelve hour plane ride we had last week, and long because we were heading to Paris. No train can be fast enough to get us to that city.

Of course, because we were heading to Paris, the city of bright lights and love, it was an unavoidable topic. Love, not bright lights.

“I just don’t know if I should have said something or what,” Anne was saying. I had partially zoned out on the views when she started telling her story, marveling at the countryside that separated Geneva, Switzerland and Paris, France. How they can talk about love with a view like that passing by outside, I have no idea. “I want to be friends, but I like him too, but I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Did he tell you he liked you too?” Of course the guys asked this.

Anne shook her head. Our section of the train almost erupted with “Ahh’s” when she did. Then Alvin started talking about assumptions and guys and romance and all that, while Kathy and I laughed and nodded in agreement. Oh, how many times have I experienced the same thing Anne was in now?

When Alvin was done scolding…er, sharing, I mean, Eric turned to all of us girls and asked, “Okay, let’s get this out in the open now, since we have been talking about it.”

“And that is…?” Kathy asked, eyebrow raised.

“What’s your type? What’s your kind of guy?”

Kathy, Anne and I exchanged glances. I raised my hand. “Are you guys required to answer, too?”

“Of course,” Eric said automatically. Then he added, “Our kind of girls, of course.” I grinned at him before putting my hand down and sitting back. Beside me, our youngest companion, Jay, sighed a small sigh and pushed his earphones back into his ears. I laughed and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Jay was just fifteen, and he told us earlier that he was too busy studying to pay attention to what we had.

“Since you raised your hand first, Carla, you go first,” Alvin said, returning my grin. Eric laughed and gave him a high five.

“What?” I complained. “Why?”