After we polish off most of the food, I check my watch. “See,” Louis says as we get up to leave. “Quick, easy, delicious lunch, as promised.”
“Thank you, this was wonderful.”
You are wonderful, I want to say as we pack up cups and utensils. I can’t believe I said yes to this, but I also can’t believe I almost said no. I find myself wishing that I could stay with Louis all afternoon, wandering around Paris and discovering all his favorite spots.
“Mia,” Louis says, leaning forward so close I can smell the sweet taste of tomatoes on his breath. He stares at my mouth, his eyes sparkling, and my heart drops. I know what he’s about to do, and I freeze, scared of disrupting the moment. He inches closer, and I think, this is torture, but the best kind of torture, and I would like more of it, please and merci.
“You…，” he says softly, “have bread crumbs all over your face.” I think he brushes them off with his thumb, but in truth I’m not sure what happens.
When I’ve recovered, we head down the stairs, walk along Rue de Lyon and back toward Place de la Bastille. But just as we arrive at the main square, I stop in my tracks right in front of the modern opera building. Fernando, my classmate and future dance partner, is standing there, talking with a girl I recognize as one of the student teachers: Sasha, a graceful redhead who always looks very tough and serious for her eighteen years. If I walk any farther, they’ll see me. And Louis.
I don’t have time to think: I duck behind the bus stop we just passed and hide behind an advertisement. I peek through the glass partition, checking on Fernando and Sasha, who haven’t moved.
This…is not my proudest moment. It’s even less so when Louis rushes to join me behind the billboard, the look on his face a cocktail of adrenaline and amusement. I’m pretty sure the look on mine reads something like “mortified.” I give him an embarrassed smile.
“Are you hiding from that guy?” Louis asks, looking to the side behind me. “Because he’s gone.”
“Oh,” I say, relief flooding me. “I wasn’t hiding from him…，” I say, my cheeks growing hot. I should just stop talking.
“You just didn’t want him to see you.” He bites his bottom lip, suppressing a laugh.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean…it’s complicated.”
“He’s from your program, right?”
“It’s not what you think,” I reply right away. Could Louis actually be jealous? I mean, Fernando is totally cute, but he’s not Louis. No one is Louis.
“What I think is that you don’t want people from school to see you out having lunch,” he says. “Because it’s your business what you do outside ballet.”
“Oh,” I say, my eyes opening wide. “Well, then it’s exactly what you think.”
We both let out a laugh, and I immediately feel better. But then I think of Odile. How ecstatic I was when Monsieur Dabrowski called my name. He gave me the opportunity of a lifetime. I cannot forget that.
“You’re allowed to have a private life. No one has to know about us.”
It takes my heart a second to recover from that “us.” You’d think waiting to find out about the roles in Swan Lake was nerve-racking, but the meaning of that “us” will probably keep the wheels turning in my mind all day and night. “I’m taking the program very seriously, and…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he says seriously. “And I won’t tell anyone.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Not even Max?”
Louis shakes his head, like this is a silly question. “No way.” He glances at his watch, then adds, “So I really shouldn’t walk you back to school.”
“No, I’m just going to…”
We stare at each other for what feels like a long, loaded moment. His brown eyes search mine, like he’s trying to say something important but can’t find the words. Ultimately, Louis sighs and just grabs my hand instead. His feels warm and soft, and mine fits neatly inside it. They seem right together.
“You need to go,” he says, his voice soft and raspy, but instead of releasing my hand, he tightens his grip and pulls me a little closer.
“I do,” I reply, following his lead and closing the gap between us. Our faces are just a few inches from each other, and my legs feel like jelly.
“So, umm, bye?” I say, but it sounds more like a question. He leans forward, and instead of heading straight for my cheek, his face hovers over mine. I just stand there and hold my breath. Nervous. Hopeful. Excited, and totally panicked at the same time. It feels as if we’re just suspended like this for so long that everyone has stopped to stare.