“See the hat? I’m a pope. P O O P, pope,” André said as he placed a tall, white hat made out of a crisp fabric on top of his head, and Zac simply laughed at him.
“I think that’s a chef’s hat.”
“You mean a toque blanche?” Noah interrupted from behind them and pressed a shirt across André’s shoulders, trying to see whether he would fit it perfectly or not.
“Yeah, whatever,” Zac just simply said and placed the paper weight he found back on its shelf.
They were now once again inside a small souvenir shop in the middle of a busy street in Brussels, scanning their way through the items that were all piled neatly in wooden shelves. André was already full from eating three Belgian waffles and was now even planning on going to a pub.
Zac and him had searched through Google about things they
