“So will your father object to me? Because I'm not American? I mean, not fully American? He's not one of those mad, patriotic nuts,is he?""No.He'll love you,because you make me happy.He's not always so bad."St. Clair raises his dark eyebrows."I know! But I said not always. He still is the majority of the time.It's just...he means well. He thought he was doing good,sending me here.""And was it? Good?""Look at you,fishing for compliments.""I wouldn't object to a compliment."I play with a strand of his hair. "I like how you pronounce 'banana.' Ba-nah-na. And sometimes you trill your r's. I love that.""Brilliant," he whispers in my ear. "Because I've spent loads of time practicing."My room is dark,and Etienne wraps his arms back around me.We listen to the opera singer in a peaceful silence.I'm surprised by how much I'll miss France. Atlanta was home for almost eighteen years,and though I've only know Paris for the last nine months,it's changed me.I have a new city to learn next year,but I'm not scared.Because I was right.For the two of us, home isn't a place.It's a person.And we're finally home.”

“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.”

“There.You're officially Canadian. Try not to abuse your new power.""Whatever.I'm totally going out tonight.""Good." He slows down. "You should."We're both standing still. He's so close to me.His gaze is locked on mine, and my heart pounds painfully in my chest. I step back and look away. Toph. I like Toph,not St. Clair. Why do I have to keep reminding myself of this? St. Clair is taken."Did you paint these?" I'm desperate to change the mood. "These above your bed?" I glance back,and he's still staring at me.He bites his thumbnail before replying. His voice is odd. "No.My mum did.""Really? Wow,they're good. Really, really...good.""Anna...""Is this here in Paris?""No,it's the street I grew up on. In London.""Oh.""Anna...""Hmm?" I stand with my back to him, trying to examine the paintings. They really are great. I just can't seem to focus. Of course it's not Paris. I should've known-"That guy.Sideburns.You like him?"My back squirms. "You've asked me that before.""What I meant was," he says, flustered. "Your feelings haven't changed? Since you've been here?"It takes a moment to consider the question. "It's not a matter of how I feel," I say at last. "I'm interested,but...I don't know if he's still interested in me."St. Clair edges closer. "Does he still call?""Yeah.I mean,not often. But yes.""Right.Right,well," he says, blinking. "There's your answer."I look away. "I should go.I'm sure you have plans with Ellie.""Yes.I mean,no. I mean, I don't know. If you aren't doing any-"I open his door. "So I'll see you later. Thank you for the Canadian citizenship." I tap the patch on my bag.St. Clair looks strangely hurt. "No problem. Happy to be of service."I take the stairs two at a time to my floor. What just happened? One minute we were fine,and the next it was like I couldn't leave fast enough. I need to get out of here.I need to leave the dorm. Maybe I'm not a brave American,but I think I can be a brave Canadian.I grab the Pariscope from inside my room and jog downstairs.I'm going to see Paris.Alone.”

“You aren't like your mom.""I am.But I don't want to be like that anymore,I want what I want." He turns to me again,his face anxious. "I told my father's friends that I'm studying at Berkeley next year.It worked.He's really,really angry with me,but it worked.You told me to go for his pride.You were right.""So." I'm cautious,hardly daring to believe. "You're moving to California?""I have to.""Right." I swallow hard. "Because of your mom.""Because of you. I'll only be a twenty-minute train ride from your school,and I'll make the commute to see you every night.I'd take a commute ten times that just to be with you every night."His words are too perfect.It must be a misunderstanding,surely I'm misunderstanding-"You're the most incredible girl I've ever known.You're gorgeous and smart, and you make my laugh like no one else can.And I can talk to you. And I know after all this I don't deserve you,but what I'm trying to say is that I love you,Anna.Very much."I'm holding my breath.I can't talk,but my eyes are filling with tears.He takes it the wrong way. "Oh God.And I've mucked things up again,haven't I? I didn't mean to attack you like this.I mean I did but...all right." His voice cracks. "I'll leave.Or you can go down first,and then I'll come down,and I promise I'll never bother you again-"He starts to stand,but I grab his arm. "No!"His body freezes. "I'm so sorry," he says. "I never mean to hurt you."I trail my fingers across his cheek. He stays perfectly still for me. "Please stop apologizing,Etienne.""Say my name again," he whispers.I close my eyes and lean forward. "Etienne."He takes my hands into his.Those pefect hands,that fit mine just so. "Anna?"Our foreheads touch. "Yes?""Will you please tell me you love me? I'm dying here."And then we're laughing.And them I'm in his arms,and we're kissing,at first quickly-to make up for lost time-and then slowly,because we have all the time in the world.And his lips are soft and honey sweet,and the careful, passionate way he moves them against my own says that he savors the way I taste,too.And in between kisses,I tell him I love him.Again and again and again.”

“As for us,Etienne was right.Our schools are only a twenty-minute transit ride away.He'll stay with me on the weekends, and we'll visit each other as often as possible during the week. We'll be together.We both got our Point Zero wishes-each other.He said he wished for me every time.He was wishing for me when I entered the tower."Mmm," I say.He's kissing my neck."That's it," Rashmi says. "I'm outta here.Enjoy your hormones."Josh and Mer follow her exit,and we're alone.Just the way I like it."Ha!" Ettiene says. "Just the way I like it."He pulls me onto his lap,and I wrap my legs around his waist.His lips are velvet soft,and we kiss until the streetlamps flicker on outside. Until the opera singer begins her evening routine. "I'm going to miss her," I say."I'll sing to you." He tucks my stripe behind my ear. "Or I'll take you to the opera.Or I'll fly you back here to visit. Whatever you want.Anything you want."I lace my fingers through his. "I want to stay right here,in this moment.""Isn't that the name of the latest James Ashley bestseller? In This Moment?""Careful.Someday you'll meet him, and he won't be nearly as amusing in person."Etienne grins. "Oh,so he'll only be mildly amusing? I suppose I can handle mildly amusing.""I'm serious! You have to promise me right now,this instant,that you won't leave me once you meet him.Most people would run.""I'm not most people."I smile. "I know.But you still have to promise."His eyes lock on mine. "Anna,I promise that I will never leave you."My heart pounds in response.And Etienne knows it,because he takes my hand and holds it against his chest,to show me how hard his heart is pounding, too. "And now for yours," he says.I'm still dazed. "My what?"He laughs. "Promise you won't flee once I introduce you to my father.Or, worse, leave me for him."I pause. "Do you think he'll object to me?""Oh,I'm sure he will."Okay.Not the answer I was looking for.Etienne sees my alarm. "Anna.You know my father dislikes anything that makes me happy.And you make me happier than anyone ever has." He smiles. "Oh,yes. He'll hate you.""So....that's a good thing?""I don't care what he thinks.Only what you think." He holds me tighter. "Like if you think I need to stop biting my nails.""You've worn your pinkies to nubs," I say cheerfully."Or if I need to start ironing my bedspread.""I DO NOT IRON MY BEDSPREAD.""You do.And I love it." I blush,and Etienne kisses my warm cheeks. "You know,my mum loves you.""She goes?""You're the only thing I've talked about all year.She's ecstatic we're together."I'm smiling inside and out. "I can't wait to meet her.”

“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.”

“St. Clair tucks the tips of his fingers into his pockets and kicks the cobblestones with the toe of his boots. "Well?" he finally asks."Thank you." I'm stunned. "It was really sweet of you to bring me here.""Ah,well." He straightens up and shrugs-that full-bodied French shrug he does so well-and reassumes his usual, assured state of being. "Have to start somewhere. Now make a wish.""Huh?" I have such a way with words. I should write epic poetry or jingles for cat food commercials.He smiles. "Place your feet on the star, and make a wish.""Oh.Okay,sure." I slide my feet together so I'm standing in the center. "I wish-""Don't say it aloud!" St. Clair rushes forward, as if to stop my words with his body,and my stomach flips violently. "Don't you know anything about making wishes? You only get a limited number in life. Falling stars, eyelashes,dandelions-""Birthday candles."He ignores the dig. "Exactly. So you ought to take advantage of them when they arise,and superstition says if you make a wish on that star, it'll come true." He pauses before continuing. "Which is better than the other one I've heard.""That I'll die a painful death of poisoning, shooting,beating, and drowning?""Hypothermia,not drowning." St. Clair laughs. He has a wonderful, boyish laugh. "But no. I've heard anyone who stands here is destined to return to Paris someday. And as I understand it,one year for you is one year to many. Am I right?"I close my eyes. Mom and Seany appear before me. Bridge.Toph.I nod."All right,then.So keep your eyes closed.And make a wish."I take a deep breath. The cool dampness of the nearby trees fills my lungs. What do I want? It's a difficult quesiton.I want to go home,but I have to admit I've enjoyed tonight. And what if this is the only time in my entire life I visit Paris? I know I just told St. Clair that I don't want to be here, but there's a part of me-a teeny, tiny part-that's curious. If my father called tomorrow and ordered me home,I might be disappointed. I still haven't seen the Mona Lisa. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.Walked beneath the Arc de Triomphe.So what else do I want?I want to feel Toph's lips again.I want him to wait.But there's another part of me,a part I really,really hate,that knows even if we do make it,I'd still move away for college next year.So I'd see him this Christmas and next summer,and then...would that be it?And then there's the other thing.The thing I'm trying to ignore. The thing I shouldn't want,the thing I can't have.And he's standing in front of me right now.So what do I wish for? Something I'm not sure I want? Someone I'm not sure I need? Or someone I know I can't have?Screw it.Let the fates decide.I wish for the thing that is best for me.How's that for a generalization? I open my eyes,and the wind is blowing harder. St. Clair pushes a strand of hair from his eyes. "Must have been a good one," he says.”