“But ... Toph is a wanker.You hate him. And Bridgette!” He glances at me. “We stil hate Bridgette, right? I haven’t missed anything?”
I shake my head. “We stil hate her.”
“Al right, so it’s a fitting punishment. Think about it, she’l get dol ed up in one of those satin monstrosities no rational girl would ever wear, and they’l take one of those awful pictures—”
“The picture,” I moan.
“No. They’re awful, Anna.” And he looks genuinely revolted. “The uncomfortable poses and the terrible slogans. ‘A Night to Remember.’ ‘This Magic Moment’—”
“‘What Dreams Are Made Of.’”
“Exactly.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Oh, and don’t forget the commemorative photo key chain. Bridgette is bound to buy one. And it’l embarrass
Toph, and he’l break up with her, and that’l be it. The prom picture will be their complete undoing.”
“They stil get to dress up.”
“You hate dressing up.”
“And they stil get to dance.”
“You dance here! You danced across the lobby desk on Thanksgiving.” He laughs. “There’s no way Bridgette will get to dance on a desk at the prom.”
I’m trying to stay upset. “Unless she’s trashed.”
“Exactly.”
“Which she probably will be.”
“No ‘probably’ about it. She’l be bombed out of her skul .”
“So it’l be real y embarrassing when she loses her dinner—”
He throws up his hands. “The terrible prom food! How could I have forgotten? Rubbery chicken, bottled barbecue sauce—”
“—on Toph’s shoes.”
“Mortifying,” he says. “And it’l happen during the photo shoot, I guarantee it.”
I final y crack a smile, and he grins. “That’s more like it.”
We hold each other’s gaze. His smile softens, and he nudges me again. I rest my head on his shoulder as the stairwel light turns off. They’re all on
timers.
“Thanks, Étienne.”
He stiffens at hearing his first name. In the darkness, I take one of his hands into my lap and squeeze it. He squeezes back. His nails are bitten short, but I love his hands.
They’re just the right size.
Chapter thirty-eight
Now I know why people are always carrying on about Paris in the springtime. The leaves are bright green with birth, the chestnut trees are clustered with pink buds, and the walkways are lined with lemon yel ow tulips. Everywhere I look, Parisians are smiling. They’ve shed their woolen scarves for scarves
that are thinner, lighter, softer. Le Jardin du Luxembourg, the Luxembourg Gardens, is busy today, but it’s a pleasant crowd. Everyone is happy because
it’s the first warm day of the year.We haven’t seen sunshine in months.