I turn to Meredith. “Did you come in from Rome? That’s where you’re attending university, right?”
“Yeah.” She puts an arm around Josh and her curly head on his shoulder, but they’re clearly gestures of friendship. “When I heard everyone was coming, I couldn’t resist.”
“And you?” I don’t look at Josh. He knows the question is for him.
He can’t meet my eyes either. “Same for me, I guess. Couldn’t resist.”
St. Clair waggles his eyebrows at Josh, but the moment he sees that I’ve caught him, his expression changes to a flirtatious grin. “Aw, mate,” he says to Josh. “Admit it. You couldn’t resist me.”
Josh relaxes into a smile. “You’re like a gorgeous little bonbon.”
“Delicious in every way,” St. Clair says.
Anna rolls her eyes. “Wait until you try his creamy centre.”
St. Clair bursts into laughter as Meredith squeals. The chemistry between the four of them is as if they hadn’t spent a day apart. My heart squeezes, but it’s not from jealousy. It’s out of happiness for Josh’s sake. He leans across the table to jostle St. Clair, but he knocks against my arm instead.
“Sorry,” Josh says quickly. His voice turns strained. He sits, and the jovial mood crashes down with him, but his touch shudders through me in waves.
Longing. As fierce and powerful as ever.
I look away, not wanting him to see how badly I wish he would touch me again. And then I discover a strange apparition outside the restaurant’s window. I blink. It’s still there. In the winter, the streets of Paris are grey and the coats that walk them are black.
So this…this is like…
“The circus,” Josh says, finishing my thought out loud. “It’s like the circus has come to town.”
“Brilliant,” St. Clair says. “That must be Lola and Cricket.”
A boy and a girl enter the restaurant. The boy is ridiculously tall and skinny – far more extreme than Josh – and it’s only emphasized by the tightness of his pinstriped pants. He could almost be wearing stilts. He’s wearing a bright blue military jacket, and his wrists are covered in rainbow-coloured bracelets and rubber bands. The girl is wearing a gigantic, poufy skirt with pink and yellow and turquoise crinoline peeking out from underneath. She also has a military jacket, Vietnam-era army green, but hers has been decorated with pink glitter. And she has matching pink hair.
“Hi!” Lola plops down beside me, and her skirt fwoomps up and onto my lap. “Yikes. Sorry about that.” She smiles as she jams it underneath the table.
“How did you manage to fit all of that into a suitcase?” I’m impressed.
Her smile grows from ear to ear. “I’m a championship-level packer.”
St. Clair snorts. “She also brought three times the amount of luggage as the rest of us.”
“But she is a good packer,” Cricket says. “You’d be amazed at how much she managed to squish into those extra suitcases.”
He pulls out the chair beside her, and she reaches up with both arms to hold him as he sits down. Not because he needs steadying, but because they’re clearly in the earliest stages of love. She simply needs to touch him. They double-hold-hands below the table. I feel a sharp pang as I remember doing the same with Josh. Lola gives Cricket a kiss, square on the lips, and he looks as if he might explode from happiness.
“Hey,” Lola says, suddenly seeing Josh. “I think I saw you on TV a few months ago.”
“It’s possible,” Josh says.
“You must be Isla and Josh,” Cricket says.
I almost correct him – Oh, no, we aren’t a couple – when I realize he means Isla and Josh. Not Isla-and-Josh. I shake his extended hand, feeling sad. “And Meredith,” he says, leaning over me to shake hers.
“I like your hair,” she says.
“Thanks,” he says. It stands on end, further adding to his manic height.
“So none of you have to ask,” Lola says. “Six four. Without the hair.”
“Étienne is five four,” Anna says. “With his boots.”
“Without,” St. Clair protests. But his grin tells another story.
“You’re shorter than I thought.” I say it without thinking. “Sorry.” I wince. “I only meant you don’t seem that small.” I wince again.
“Confidence, darling.” He leans across the table and touches a finger to my cheek. “You could learn something from me, you know.”
My face turns pink. But I laugh, pleased to be included in their good-natured ribbing. Josh looks at me, worried, and I turn in my seat to face him full on. I smile. He exhales with relief, and I lean in closer.
“We’re okay,” I whisper. “Aren’t we?”
“It’s all I want,” he says.
Our server appears. We startle apart, and my heart races. Does that mean he wants to be friends again? Or am I what he wants? With all that wanting connotes?
We place an order for a ton of pizzas, and normally I’d be thrilled about the variety, but all I want to do is return to the previous conversation. But our window of privacy is gone. The table pulls us into discussion about the Olympics. Apparently, Cricket’s twin would be a shoo-in for the gold medal, but she’s convinced that she has a second-place curse. Everyone says they’re sure she’ll be fine, but Cricket is weird and jittery. I get the sense that he believes in the curse, too, though he won’t admit it. Talk turns to everyone’s schools. I wait for Josh to chime in, but he never does. I wonder if that means he still hasn’t enrolled anywhere. But maybe he’s waiting for me to speak first.
The silence in our corner grows.
The pizza arrives. With each bite, I beg myself to ask if he’s finishing high school. I beg myself to ask if he’s still moving to Vermont. But, the truth is, I’m afraid of his answer. It’s been less than two months, and I left him broken-hearted. How could he have already found the energy to attend – or care about – a new school?
My guilt and fear push us further apart.
“Are you okay?” Josh asks. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”
I look at his plate. “Neither have you.”
He opens his mouth to reply, when St. Clair stands. “We’re off,” he says, meaning him and Anna and no one else. She looks as surprised as the rest of us.
“We haven’t even had dessert,” Meredith says.
“I’m taking my lady friend somewhere special for dessert.”
“You are?” Anna says.
“I am.”
Anna looks happy enough. “Okay.” She gathers her things and looks bewilderedly at the rest of us. “Guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” Her eyes fall on me. “Oh, no! I wanted to catch up. Well, hopefully, we’ll be seeing each other again. Soon. Good luck.”
I pounce on her words. Soon. Good luck. They’re general statements, but they feel specific. They feel promising. Anna and St. Clair hug everybody goodbye, even me. The hug between Josh and St. Clair lasts the longest. It’s a real hug, not a lame guy-hug. My heart breaks a little more. Anna and St. Clair leave the restaurant. Meredith, Lola and I sit down, but Josh and Cricket exchange a meaningful look.
Josh flags down the server. “L’addition, s’il vous plaît.” Check, please.
“We’re leaving?” I can’t hide the disappointment from my voice. A proper French dinner should keep us here for at least another hour.
Josh pauses, mid-reach for his wallet. He looks at me, searching, and I find hope in his eyes. It makes me feel hopeful, too. He smiles. “Something better is about to happen.”
“Hurry, hurry, hurry.” Cricket bounces on the balls of his feet.
“Do you know what’s happening?” Lola asks me.
I shake my head as Meredith looks between Josh and Cricket. “Didn’t you two just meet? How can you already have secrets?”
Josh grins so wide that his dimples appear. My heart flutters at the well-missed sight. He and Cricket toss down some bills from their wallets, and then Josh is yanking out a bulging shoulder bag from be
hind the table. “Come on.” He’s still smiling at me as he throws on his coat. It’s his going-on-a-date coat, of course.
That coat. It hurts how much I love it.
The five of us race through the snowy white streets towards the River Seine. The sun has gone down, and most of the Latin Quarter appears to be staying inside tonight. Josh glances at my feet. I’m wearing heeled boots, but I’m keeping in stride with everyone else. He shoots me an impressed eyebrow-raise as we burst out of the neighbourhood, directly across from Notre-Dame.
“Where?” Cricket asks Josh.
“In the square, near the main entrance.” Josh points across the bridge. We run across it towards Notre-Dame’s courtyard.
“Oh,” Meredith says, understanding. “Seriously?”
Lola looks at me, and we explode into helpless laughter. Neither of us has any idea what’s happening. We’re panting, out of shape and out of breath.
“Stop!” Josh says.
We tumble to a halt behind him. We’re on the edge of the square facing the massive cathedral. “I assume we didn’t run all the way here to see a structure that hasn’t left this spot in hundreds of years?” Lola readjusts her pink hair, and I realize it’s a wig. “What am I looking at?”
But then I see them.
Several yards away – closer to the cathedral’s legendary carved doorways – Anna and St. Clair are standing on top of Point Zéro. It’s been hand-brushed clear of its dusting of snow. Point Zéro is the bronze marker, a star, which designates the official centre of France. There are at least two superstitions about it. One is that anyone who stands on the star will return to France. The other is that you can use it to make a wish.
“Wait for it,” Josh says.
Lola stands straighter, excited. “No!”
“Yes,” Cricket says.
I’m the last one in the dark, until – suddenly – it happens. St. Clair removes something from his pocket. And then he gets down on one knee.
Anna’s entire body lights with shock and joy and love. She nods a vigorous yes. St. Clair places the ring on her finger. He stands, she throws her arms around him, and they kiss. He spins her in a circle. They kiss again. Deep, hungry, long. And then he turns to us and waves – with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen – clearly aware that we’ve been standing here the whole time.
Chapter thirty-one
I’ve never witnessed a moment like this. I didn’t even know that I was old enough for a moment like this. Friends – are they friends? They feel like they might be friends to have included me here tonight – getting engaged to be married. At nineteen!
Anna shows off her ring. It’s small and simple and lovely. Her eyes suddenly shine, and she wheels around to face St. Clair. “So this is why you got a job.”
He grins. “I wasn’t about to buy you a ring with my father’s money.”
Josh bear-hugs St. Clair. “I’m only sorry you’re off the market.”
“Don’t tell Anna, but I bought one for you, too,” St. Clair says.
Lola throws her arms around Cricket. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this was gonna happen.”
“I wanted to,” he says. “But sometimes you think about things…out loud.”
“I do not!”
“You do,” Anna and St. Clair say together.
Lola grumbles, but she’s smiling.
“Attention, attention,” St. Clair says. “My fiancée and I—”
Everyone laughs at how strange and foreign the word sounds. It’s like discovering a new language or being a part of a new culture. The culture of adults. And we don’t yet know how it works, but it feels good so far.
St. Clair clears his throat. “My fiancée and I are headed out for a celebratory dessert. I’d ask you all to join us, but I don’t want you there.”
We laugh. Everyone hugs one another goodbye again, and this time, Anna and Meredith have the longest hug. Meredith whispers something to her, and Anna looks moved. She hugs Meredith again. And then Anna and St. Clair are bouncing off into the distance, weaving a path through the accumulating snow. He loudly hums a happy tune.
Lola glances at the full moon. “You know…it’s not that late.”
Cricket extends his arm. “Shall we stroll?”
She slips her arm through it and hugs him closer against her body. “I can’t believe we’re in Paris. Together.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Cricket says to me, and I feel sad that everyone is leaving. “See you in the morning?” he asks Josh.
Josh nods.
Lola and Cricket stroll away, a splash of brilliant colour in a white night. And now there are three. Josh’s expression turns solemn. He places an arm around Meredith, and the gesture makes me recall that, once upon a time, she was in love with St. Clair.
“You okay, Mer?” he asks.
“I am,” she says. “But thank you for asking.”
Another hug, a long one filled with memories. She pulls away first. “Sorry,” she says. “You’ll have to forgive me. My day started early, and I’m beat. I’m gonna head back to the hostel.” But Meredith is definitely not beat. She’s bowing out to let us talk. She’s choosing to be alone – on a night that might be bittersweet for her – to give us a chance at…I’m not sure what.
“It was nice seeing you again,” I say. And I mean it. I’m grateful for this sacrifice.
“Don’t get too sad. I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday.” And she winks before leaving. “See you tomorrow, Josh,” she shouts.
Josh’s hands are in his pockets, and his shoulders are up to his ears. “She’s not my most subtle friend. Which is saying something. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. She’s really nice.”
“She is.”
“All of your friends are nice.”
He looks at me. “I’m glad you think so.”
We’re quiet. The snow falls softly against his dark hair.
“So,” I say.
“So.” He glances at his feet. “Can I walk you home?”
My body flushes. “Yes. Please. Thank you.” I look away, embarrassed.
Without needing to say it aloud, we choose a route towards the dorm that will have fewer people. We walk in silence. The flakes are getting fatter. The hush should feel peaceful, but the nervousness inside of me only grows.
He looks so beautiful in the lamplight. I think I was wrong about him. I hope I was wrong about him. I know I was wrong about myself. We don’t say a word until we reach the dormitory. The first time we walked here together, it was ours. Now it’s only mine. He’s brave for coming back here again, and I can be brave, too.
“Would you…” I say.
Josh watches me. He waits for me to finish the question. He wants me to say it.
“Do you wanna come inside?” I ask. “And talk?”
It looks as if what he’s about to say might kill him. “I wish that I could, but I don’t think I’d be welcome in there.”
Please don’t reject me. “Since when do you care about the rules?”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“I don’t care,” I say.
“I do.”
My heart twists harder, heavier. “Will you at least be around for breakfast? When does your train leave?”
“I’m not sure,” he says.
I close my eyes. How could he not know the answer to that question? What kind of excuse is that?
“I want you to have this,” he says.
I open my eyes again. He’s struggling to remove a manuscript from his bag, and now I can see that it’s the reason why it’d been so bulky. The papers take up the entire thing.
My heart breaks. This is why he wanted to meet me tonight.
Against my better judgment, I hold down the bottom of his bag so that he can pull it out. He clutches the manuscript against his chest before presenting it to me with shaking hands. I don’t know if they shake from nervousness or from the weather.
I take
it. There’s a new title. Spaces.
“You were right,” he says. “About…a lot of stuff. I’ve been working really hard on it, and I’d love your opinion. On the changes.”
Please don’t make me read this again. “Um, okay.”
He turns hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Sure.” The weight of his work grows heavier in my arms. “Uh, when would you like this back?”
“Oh, no. That’s yours. To keep.”
Silence.
“Okay,” I finally say.
He tucks his hands back inside his coat. “Will you call me as soon as you’re done?”
I’m startled. “You want me to read it now?”
“Yeah. I mean, no. You don’t have to. But I’m leaving tomorrow—”
“No, it’s okay. I can read it now.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“All right. So. You have my number.”
This now ranks as the most awkward conversation that we’ve ever had. It’s way worse than anything before we dated.
I nod. “Yep.”
Josh leans in for a hug. He hesitates, just as I’m leaning in. So he leans in again. The manuscript sits cold and heavy between our bodies. And as he awkwardly pats me on the back, I realize that this is the last time that we will ever touch.
Chapter thirty-two
I set the manuscript down on my bed. I’m exhausted.
I remove my wet shoes, my coat, my leggings.
I wash my face.
I brush my teeth.
The manuscript’s paper eyes bore into the back of my head. I stare at it in the mirror’s reflection above my sink. It seems both tragically dead and frighteningly alive. And I have no choice but to climb into bed with it. I fiddle with a stubborn wave of hair. I poke at the pores on my nose. I take a long time turning on my lamp.
I slip into bed. I’m listening for the snow, which is coming down harder, but I can’t hear it. I can only see it streaming through the street light outside.
I pull the manuscript into my lap. I read.
It has a new beginning. It no longer starts with his first day as a wide-eyed, slack-jawed freshman. It starts with an older, wiser, and more embittered Josh. It’s the summer before his senior year. He’s sitting alone, drawing in a café.