“I can’t,” I reply, looking sideways. “My aunts are in town today.”
Lucy frowns at me, and I catch an inquisitive glance from Audrey. I’m such a bad liar.
“What are you going to do?” Anouk asks, leaning over me to grab a yogurt.
“It’s…a surprise.” I probably blush, but at least that part is true.
“Okay,” Lucy says tentatively, “but you’re not ditching us tomorrow.”
Tomorrow is Bastille Day, the French national holiday. We’ve been talking all week about what we’ll do, and where we’ll watch the fireworks from. Lucy even started a group chat with everyone from the dorm so we could share ideas. Going to Champ de Mars near the Tour Eiffel is the current winning option, but we’ll have to be there very early if we want a good viewing spot.
I try to look offended. “Of course not!”
There’s no chance of me running off with Louis tomorrow. He told me he always spends le quatorze juillet—as the French call it—with his dad and some extended family.
“What time are you meeting your aunts?” Lucy asks. She pops a bright red strawberry in her mouth but doesn’t take her eyes off me. “And where?”
I stare at her for a moment, wondering if she’s just being curious or…Wait a minute. It’s Lucy we’re talking about. Curiosity is her middle name.
I check my watch. “Very soon, actually.” In fact, I’m not meeting Louis until the afternoon, but I won’t be able to keep up my lie for much longer. As I feel my cheeks grow hot, I realize that I should get out of here before I come clean and blurt out Louis’s name. “We’re meeting near Opéra Garnier.”
Lucy, Anouk, and Audrey all look at me at the same time, and I think I’m about to get caught. Deny everything, Mia. It’s for your own good.
“Well, have fun,” Anouk says, elbowing Lucy.
Audrey shrugs and…that’s it. I’m off the hook. Still, I’m not going to push my luck. I get up, clear out my breakfast, and say a quick goodbye before rushing upstairs to finish getting ready.
Once on the street, I decide that—though my blistered feet may disagree—the best way to kill time is to just wander the streets of Paris in the direction of Opéra Garnier. A few minutes in, I cross the bridge in front of Cathédrale Notre-Dame, finally taking the time to admire it face on. It was struck by a terrible fire a few years ago, and parts of it are still covered in scaffolding, but I can’t imagine it looked more majestic than this. I take a deep breath, feeling a little woozy at how lucky I am that I get to discover a city that so many people dream of seeing. One day, when I’m a professional dancer, I hope to travel all over the world to dance, but I’m not sure it will ever feel as special as it does right now.
When I’m on the other side of the Seine, I check the map on my phone and realize that my route will take me right past Le Louvre. On the way, I try to listen in to the conversations around me, and catch little bits of French.
For a while I follow a group of girls my age, who are laughing hard and regularly tapping each other on the arm in a teasing way, as they keep mentioning “ce mec.” Intrigued, I edge closer to them as I search the word in my app. It’s slang and means that guy. They’re talking about boy troubles. I feel a pang of guilt as I think back to breakfast. I haven’t told a soul about Louis, not even my friends back home. I know it makes me sound paranoid, but I’m afraid that if I even put it in a text, one of the girls at the dorm will find out, and my life will be over: the program, performing Odile, and my chances with ABT.
The crowd around the Pyramide du Louvre is even thicker than in front of Notre-Dame. The contrast between the striking triangular glass structure and the traditional building is fascinating, and I spend some time doing what everyone else seems to be doing—taking selfies. I wish I had someone to share this with, because it’s so much more beautiful in real life than on my phone screen.
I mosey over to Rue Saint-Honoré, a street lined with gorgeous boutiques.
Looking around, it seems every girl on the sidewalk is dressed like she has just stepped out of a magazine. Silk dresses, elaborate strappy sandals, and designer handbags seem to be the norm around these parts. I feel more self-conscious with every step.
It was fine for Louis to be all mysterious, and I have nothing against surprises, but they do present one big problem: what do you wear when you don’t know what you’re going to do? In the end, I decided to play it safe and settled on a black sleeveless cotton jumpsuit, brown wedge sandals, and a ponytail.