“Where have you been all my life?” I ask the beautiful panini. “How is it possible I’ve never had a sandwich like this before?”
He takes a large bite. “Mmmph grmpha mrpha,” he says, smiling. Which I’m assuming translates to something like, “Because American food is crap.”
“Mmmph mrga grmpha mmrg,” I reply. Which translates to, “Yeah, but our burgers are pretty good.”
We lick the paper our sandwiches were wrapped in before throwing them away. Bliss. We’re almost back to the dormitory , and St. Clair is describing the time he and Josh received detention for throwing chewing gum at the painted ceiling—they were trying to give one of the nymphs a third nipple—when
my brain begins to process something. Something odd.
We have just passed the third movie theater in one block.
Granted, these are smal theaters. One-screeners, most likely. But three of them. In one block! How did I not notice this earlier?
Oh. Right. The cute boy.
“Are any of those in English?” I interrupt.
St. Clair looks confused. “Pardon?”
“The movie theaters. Are there any around here that play films in English?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know.”
“What? Don’t know what?”
He’s gleeful to know something I don’t. Which is annoying considering we’re both aware that he knows everything about Parisian life, whereas I have
the savvy of a chocolate croissant. “And I was under the impression that you were some kind of cinema junkie.”
“What? Know what?”
St. Clair gestures around in an exaggerated circle, clearly loving this. “Paris . . . is the film appreciation . . . capital . . . of the world.”
I stop dead. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.You’l never find a city that loves film more. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of theaters here.”
My heart feels like it’s fal ing inside my chest. I’m dizzy. It can’t be true.
“More than a dozen in our neighborhood alone.”
“What?”
“You honestly didn’t notice?”
“No, I didn’t notice! How come no one told me?” I mean, this should have been mentioned Day One, Life Skil s Seminars. This is very important
information here! We resume walking, and my head strains in every direction to read the posters and marquees. Please be in English. Please be in
English. Please be in English.
“I thought you knew. I would have said something.” He final y looks apologetic. “It’s considered pretty high art here. There are loads of first-run theaters, but even more—what do you cal them?—revival houses. They play the classics and run programs devoted to different directors or genres or obscure
Brazilian actresses or whatever.”
Breathe, Anna, breathe. “And are they in English?”
“At least a third of them, I suppose.”