Anna and the French Kiss

“The first day of school.” He scoots closer. “We weren’t physics partners by accident. I saw Professeur Wakefield assigning lab partners based on

where people were sitting, so I leaned forward to borrow a pencil from you at just the right moment so he’d think we were next to each other. Anna, I

wanted to be your partner the first day.”

“But ...” I can’t think straight.

“I bought you love poetry! ‘I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.’”

I blink at him.

“Neruda. I starred the passage. God,” he moans. “Why didn’t you open it?”

“Because you said it was for school.”

“I said you were beautiful. I slept in your bed!”

“You never made a move!You had a girlfriend!”

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actual y cheat on her. But I thought you’d know. With me being there, I thought you’d know.”

We’re going in circles. “How could I know if you never said anything?”

“How could I know if you never said anything?”

“You had El ie!”

“You had Toph! And Dave!”

I’m speechless. I blink at the rooftops of Paris.

He touches my cheek, pul ing my gaze back to him. I suck in my breath.

“Anna. I’m sorry for what happened in Luxembourg Gardens. Not because of the kiss—I’ve never had a kiss like that in my life—but because I didn’t tel

you why I was running away. I chased after Meredith because of you.”

Touch me again. Please, touch me again.

“Al I could think about was what that bastard did to you last Christmas. Toph never tried to explain or apologize. How could I do that to Mer? And I ought to have cal ed you before I went to El ie’s, but I was so anxious to just end it, once and for all , that I wasn’t thinking straight.”

I reach for him. “St. Clair—”

He pul s back. “And that. Why don’t you cal me Étienne anymore?”

“But . . . no one else cal s you that. It was weird. Right?”

“No. It wasn’t.” His expression saddens. “And every time you say ‘St. Clair,’ it’s like you’re rejecting me again.”

“I have never rejected you.”

“But you have. And for Dave.” His tone is venomous.

“And you rejected me for El ie on my birthday. I don’t understand. If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

He gazes at the river. “I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

“Yes.You have.”

“I deserve that.”

“Yes. You do.” I pause. “But I’ve been stupid, too. You were right. About . . . the alone thing.”

We sit in silence. “I’ve been thinking lately,” he says after a while. “About me mum and dad. How she gives in to him. How she won’t leave him. And as

much as I love her, I hate her for it. I don’t understand why she won’t stand up for herself, why she won’t go for what she wants. But I’ve been doing the same thing. I’m just like her.”

I shake my head. “You aren’t like your mom.”

“I am. But I don’t want to be like that anymore, I want what I want.” He turns to me again, his face anxious. “I told my father’s friends that I’m studying at Berkeley next year. It worked. He’s real y, really angry with me, but it worked.You told me to go for his pride.You were right.”

“So.” I’m cautious, hardly daring to believe. “You’re moving to California?”

“I have to.”

“Right.” I swal ow hard. “Because of your mom.”

“Because of you. I’l only be a twenty-minute train ride from your school, and I’l make the commute to see you every night. I’d take a commute ten times that just to be with you every night.”

His words are too perfect. It must be a misunderstanding, surely I’m misunderstanding—

“You’re the most incredible girl I’ve ever known. You’re gorgeous and smart, and you make me laugh like no one else can. And I can talk to you. And I know after all this I don’t deserve you, but what I’m trying to say is that I love you, Anna. Very much.”

I’m holding my breath. I can’t talk, but my eyes are fil ing with tears.

He takes it the wrong way. “Oh God. And I’ve mucked things up again, haven’t I? I didn’t mean to attack you like this. I mean I did but . . . all right.” His voice cracks. “I’l leave. Or you can go down first, and then I’l come down, and I promise I’l never bother you again—”

He starts to stand, but I grab his arm. “No!”

His body freezes. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I trail my fingers across his cheek. He stays perfectly stil for me. “Please stop apologizing, Étienne.”

“Say my name again,” he whispers.

I close my eyes and lean forward. “Étienne.”

He takes my hands into his.Those perfect hands, that fit mine just so. “Anna?”

Our foreheads touch. “Yes?”

“Wil you please tell me you love me? I’m dying here.”

And then we’re laughing. And then I’m in his arms, and we’re kissing, at first quickly—to make up for lost time—and then slowly, because we have al

the time in the world. And his lips are soft and honey sweet, and the careful, passionate way he moves them against my own says that he savors the way I

taste, too.

And in between kisses, I tell him I love him.

Again and again and again.

Chapter forty-seven

Rashmi clears her throat and glares at us.

“Seriously,” Josh says. “We were never like that, were we?”

Mer groans and chucks her pen at him. Josh and Rashmi have broken up. In a way, it’s strange they waited this long. It seemed inevitable, but then

again, so did other things. And those things took a while, too.

They’ve split as amicably as possible. It didn’t make sense for them to keep this up long distance.They both seem relieved. Rashmi’s excited about