Another glance at Étienne. He steps forward but then hesitates again. I turn back to Dave, something new and ugly hardening inside of me. “I’m fine.”
“Cool. So we’re going to this Irish pub in Montmartre tonight. Wanna come?”
I’ve had enough drinking for a while. “Thanks, but I’d rather stay in.”
“That’s cool. Maybe some other time?” He grins and nudges me. “When you’re feeling better?”
I want to punish Étienne, hurt him in the way that he hurt me. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Dave’s eyebrows lift, perhaps in surprise. “Cool. See you around, then.” He smiles again, shyly this time, and then fol ows his friends to their usual table across the room.
“Cool,” Étienne says behind me. “It was real y cool talking to you, too.”
I whirl around. “What’s your problem? So you can keep dating El ie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”
Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t even know what to do with his apology.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”
“You’ve had the entire year.” My voice is cold.
“Please, Anna. Please be my friend.”
“Your friend.” I give a bitter laugh. “Right. Of course.”
Étienne looks at me helplessly. I want to tell him no, but I’ve NEVER been able to tell him no. “Please,” he says again.
I cross my arms, protecting myself. “Sure, St. Clair. Friends.”
Chapter thirty-six
I can’t believe you bad lunch with David.“ Mer watches him swagger down the hal and shakes her head. We’re headed in the opposite direction from him,
toward physics.
“Dave,” I correct. “What? He’s a nice guy.”
“If you like rodents,” St. Clair says. “You’d think with those big bucked teeth, it’d be hard for him to chew.”
“I know you don’t like him, but you could at least try to be civil.” I refrain from pointing out we’ve already had a conversation about our own less-than-perfect chompers. The last few weeks have been terrible. St. Clair and I are stil friends—in theory—but now that thing is back, even larger and nastier than it was after Thanksgiving. It’s so huge it feels physical, an actual weight and body keeping us from getting close.
“Why?” His voice is suspicious. “Are you two going out now?”
“Yeah, we set up our first date right after he asked me to marry him. Please. We’re just friends.”
Mer grins. “Dave doesn’t want to be just friends.”
“Hey, did you catch what our assignment was in English?” I ask.
“Subject-changer, thy name is Anna,” Rashmi says. But in a friendly way. Since my postbirthday breakfast, things have been easier between us.
“I’m not changing the subject. I just didn’t hear what our homework was.”
“That’s odd,” St. Clair says. “Because I saw you write it down.”
“I did?”