“Meretricious. Showily attractive but cheap or insincere.”

“Where in the bloody hell did that come from?" asks the other person behind the counter. Or more precisely, on top of the counter, where her ridiculously attractive, English-accented boyfriend is perched.He's the other thing I like about Anna. Wherever she goes, he follows.He nods toward the baby wipe. "What else are you carrying in your pockets? Dust rags? Furniture polish?""Watch it," she says. "Or I'll scrub your arms, Étienne."He grins. "As long as you do it in private.”

“Speaking of cold...I shiver. "Has the temperature dropped, or is it just me?""Here." Etienne unwraps the black scarf that had been tied loosely around his neck,and hands it to me. I take it, gently, and wrap it around mine. It makes me dizzy.It smells like freshly scrubbed boy. It smells like him."Your hair looks nice," he says. "You bleached it again.I touch the stripe self-consciously. "Mom helped me.""That breeze is wicked,I'm going for coffee." Josh snaps his sketchbook closed. I'd forgotten he was here again. "You coming?"Etienne looks at me, waiting to see how I answer.Coffee! I'm dying for a real cup. I smile at Josh. "Sounds perfect."And then I'm heading down the steps of the Pantheon, cool and white and glittering, in the most beautiful city in the world. I'm with two attractive, intelligent,funny boys and I'm grinning ear to ear. If Bridgette could see me now.I mean,who needs Christopher when Etienne St. Clair is in the world?But as soon as I think of Toph, I get that same stomach churching I always do when I think about him now.Shame that I ever thought he might wait. That I wasted so much time on him. Ahead of mine,Etienne laughs at something Josh said. And the sound sends me spiraling into panic as the information hits me again and again and again.What am I going to do? I'm in love with my new best friend.”

“I'm here." St. Clair is angry. "I'm just sorry I'm not there. With you. I wish there was something I could do.""Wanna come beat her up for me?""I'm packing my throwing stars right now."I sniffle and wipe my nose. "I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I thought he liked me.That's the worst part, knowing he was never even interested.""Bollocks.He was interested.""No,he wasn't," I say. "Bridge said so.""Because she's jealous! Anna, I was there that first night he called you. I've seen how he looked at you in pictures." I protest,but he interrupts. "Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you."There's a shocked pause,on both ends of the line."Because,of course,of how intelligent you are. And funny.Not that you aren't attractive.Because you are. Attractive. Oh,bugger..."I wait."Are you still there,or did you hang up because I'm such a bleeding idiot?""I'm here.""God,you made me work for that."St. Clair said I'm attractive.That's the second time."You're so easy to talk to," he continues, "that sometimes I forget you're not one of the guys."Scratch that. He thinks I'm Josh. "Just drop it. I can't take being compared to a guy right now-""That's not what I meant-""How's your mom? I'm sorry, I've hogged ur entire conversation,and this was supposed to be about her,and I didn't even ask-""You did ask. It was the first thing you said when you answered. And technically I called you. And I was calling to see how the show went, which is what we've been talking about.”

“You're fixing everything I set down." He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. "It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things.""Oh,it's okay," I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. "You can touch anything of mine you want."He freezes. A funny look runs across his face before I realize what I've said. I didn't mean it like that.Not that that/i> would be so bad.But I like Toph,and St. Clair has a girlfriend. And even if the situation were different, Mer still has dibs. I'd never do that to her after how nice she was my first day.And my second. And every other day this week.Besides,he's just an attractive boy. Nothing to get worked up over. I mean, the streets of Europe are filled with beautiful guys, right? Guys with grooming regimens and proper haircuts and stylish coats.Not that I've seen anyone even remotely as good-looking as Monsieur Etienne St.Clair.But still.He turns his face away from mine. Is it my imagination or does he look embarrassed? But why would he be embarrassed? I'm the one with the idiotic mouth."Is that your boyfriend?" He points to my laptop's wallpaper, a photo of my coworkers and me goofing around. It was taken before the midnight release of the lastest fantasy-novel-to-film adaptation. Most of us were dressed like elves or wizards. "The one with his eyes closed?""WHAT?" He thinks I'd date a guy like Hercules Hercules is an assistant manager. He's ten years older than me and,yes, that's his real name. And even though he's sweet and knows more about Japanese horror films than anyone,he also has a ponytail.A ponytail."Anna,I'm kidding.This one. Sideburns." He points to Toph,the reason I love the picture so much.Our heads are turned into each other, and we're wearing secret smiles,as if sharing a private joke."Oh.Uh...no.Not really.I mean, Toph was my almost-boyfriend.I moved away before..." I trail off, uncomfortable. "Before much could happen.”

“So,Batman,eh?"Effing St. Clair.I cross my arms and slouch into one of the plastic seats. I am so not in the mood for this.He takes the chair next to me and drapes a relaxed arm over the back of the empty seat on his other side. The man across from us is engrossed in his laptop,and I pretend to be engrossed in his laptop,too. Well,the back of it.St. Clair hums under his breath. When I don't respond,he sings quietly. "Jingle bells,Batman smells,Robin flew away...""Yes,great,I get it.Ha ha. Stupid me.""What? It's just a Christmas song." He grins and continues a bit louder. "Batmobile lost a wheel,on the M1 motorway,hey!""Wait." I frown. "What?""What what?""You're singing it wrong.""No,I'm not." He pauses. "How do you sing it?"I pat my coat,double-checking for my passport. Phew. Still there. "It's 'Jingle bells, Batman smells,Robin laid an egg'-"St. Clair snorts. "Laid an egg? Robin didn't lay an egg-""'Batmobile lost a wheel,and the Joker got away.'"He stares at me for a moment,and then says with perfect conviction. "No.""Yes.I mean,seriously,what's up with the motorway thing?""M1 motorway. Connects London to Leeds."I smirk. "Batman is American. He doesn't take the M1 motorway.""When he's on holiday he does.""Who says Batman has time to vacation?""Why are we arguing about Batman?" He leans forward. "You're derailing us from the real topic.The fact that you, Anna Oliphant,slept in today.""Thanks.""You." He prods my leg with a finger. "Slept in."I focus on the guy's laptop again. "Yeah.You mentioned that."He flashes a crooked smile and shrugs, that full-bodied movement that turns him from English to French. "Hey, we made it,didn't we? No harm done."I yank out a book from my backpack, Your Movie Sucks, a collection of Roger Ebert's favorite reviews of bad movies. A visual cue for him to leave me alone. St. Clair takes the hint. He slumps and taps his feet on the ugly blue carpeting.I feel guilty for being so harsh. If it weren't for him,I would've missed the flight. St. Clair's fingers absentmindedly drum his stomach. His dark hair is extra messy this morning. I'm sure he didn't get up that much earlier than me,but,as usual, the bed-head is more attractive on him. With a painful twinge,I recall those other mornings together. Thanksgiving.Which we still haven't talked about.”

“Your grandparents are English?""Grandfather is,but Grandmere is French. And my other grandparents are American,of course.""Wow.You really are a mutt."St. Clair smiles. "I'm told I take after my English grandfather the most, but it's only because of the accent.""I don't know.I think of you as more English than anything else.And you don't just sound like it,you look like it,too.""I do?" He surprised.I smile. "Yeah,it's that...pasty complexion. I mean it in the best possible way," I add,at his alarmed expression. "Honestly.""Huh." St. Clair looks at me sideways. "Anyway.Last summer I couldn't bear to face my father, so it was the first time I spent the whole holiday with me mum.""And how was it? I bet the girls don't tease you about your accent anymore."He laughs. "No,they don't.But I can't help my height.I'll always be short.""And I'll always be a freak,just like my dad. Everyone tells me I take after him.He's sort of...neat,like me."He seems genuinely surprised. "What's wrong with being neat? I wish I were more organized.And,Anna,I've never met your father,but I guarantee you that you're nothing like him.""How would you know?""Well,for one thing,he looks like a Ken doll.And you're beautiful."I trip and fall down on the sidewalk."Are you all right?" His eyes fill with worry.I look away as he takes my hand and helps me up. "I'm fine.Fine!" I say, brushing the grit from my palms. Oh my God, I AM a freak."You've seen the way men look at you,right?" he continues."If they're looking, it's because I keep making a fool of myself." I hold up my scraped hands."That guy over there is checking you out right now.""Wha-?" I turn to find a young man with long dark hair staring. "Why is he looking at me?""I expect he likes what he sees."I flush,and he keeps talking. "In Paris, it's common to acknowledge someone attractive.The French don't avert their gaze like other cultures do. Haven't you noticed?"St. Clair thinks I'm attractive. He called me beautiful."Um,no," I say. "I hadn't noticed.""Well.Open your eyes."But I stare at the bare tree branches, at the children with balloons, at the Japanese tour group. Anywhere but at him. We've stopped in front of Notre-Dame again.I point at the familiar star and clear my throat. "Wanna make another wish?""You go first." He's watching me, puzzled, like he's trying to figure something out. He bites his thumbnail.This time I can't help it.All day long, I've thought about it.Him.Our secret.I wish St. Clair would spend the night again.”