The boat departs, and the city begins drifting by. Lucy grabs my hand in excitement. “Let’s go outside,” she says.
I wave at Anouk and Audrey, who follow us to the back of the boat. When we arrive, we can see the most epic view of Notre-Dame lit up against the night sky in all its glory. Pinch me. Seriously.
“I love it here!” Lucy screams into the wind in front of us. “Let’s ditch school and just do this every night.”
Anouk laughs, but I can feel Audrey tense up next to me.
“The only problem,” Anouk adds, “is that we’re rehearsing Swan Lake all of tomorrow. Madame Millet will be teaching us the choreography, so we can’t miss that.”
I shoot Audrey a glance. Madame Millet is the ma?tre de ballet for level four, but the rest confuses us both equally.
“You’re still learning the choreography?” I ask, slightly amazed. “We’re supposed to have memorized it all by now.”
“Memorized? That’s crazy!” Lucy says.
Anouk spins around on demi-pointe and laughs. “But that means you get to spend more one-on-one rehearsal time with Fernando.”
I lean over the balustrade, breathing in the fresh air of a sweet summer night. “Yeah, it’s not really like that.” Our boat passes under Pont-Royal, away from Notre-Dame.
“Get the hint, Mia,” Lucy says, gently kicking her elbow in my side. “Anouk is trying to ask if anyone in your class has eyes on Fernando. Or, more importantly, if Fernando has eyes on anyone.”
Anouk blushes slightly but perks up as she awaits my answer.
I’m sorry to disappoint her. “I honestly have no idea. I haven’t paid attention to the guys in class.”
Audrey gives me the side-eye. “That’s true. Mia has only been paying attention outside of class.”
Lucy’s and Anouk’s faces light up, thirsty for gossip.
“Ooh, Mia,” Anouk says in a singsong voice.
“She keeps getting all these text messages,” Audrey adds.
“It’s just…，” I start.
But Audrey acts like she didn’t hear me. “Is your ninety-year-old aunt texting you late at night?”
“Tell us everything,” Lucy adds, hooking her arm over my shoulder.
“I don’t think Fernando likes girls,” I mumble, trying to change the topic.
Lucy will not let me get away with it. “Tell us, Mia! Did you meet a cute French guy?”
“Oh!” Anouk says like she just figured out something important. “Is that why you looked so chic yesterday afternoon?”
“And why you didn’t come home last Sunday?” Audrey adds.
The girls surround me now. There’s no escaping. “I really went to visit my great-great-aunt, and I stayed over—”
“But you didn’t pack a bag,” Lucy cuts in.
“I missed the last train. I told you all that.”
“And no one believed you,” Audrey answers.
The other two just laugh. Clearly, it’s true. I’m starting to wonder if they even bought my excuse yesterday, or if they’ve been suspecting me all along.
“Come on, Mia, what’s his name?” Lucy asks.
This is such an unfair fight, three against one.
“Paul,” Audrey says, her lips pursed and her accent perfect.
“Martin!” Anouk says.
Lucy pouts, giving the question some serious thought. “It’s got to be a classic French name. Mia did not come to Paris to fall for an American. Pierre?”
I shake my head. “You’re all completely wrong.”
“Pierrrrrre,” Anouk says in an exaggerated French accent.
“Paul, je t’aime,” Lucy adds in a raspy voice.
Audrey turns to me, more serious than the other two. “Come on, it’s not fun to keep secrets.”
The boat passes by the Musée d’Orsay, but I’m the only one who looks up at its giant clocks and curved windows. No one will care about the view until I’ve dished.
“I—I…，” I start, but I can’t say anything. The minute I lie about Louis, my cheeks will for sure turn fire-engine red. But if I admit that there is, indeed, a very cute French guy, Audrey will give me hell for thinking about anything other than Odile. And if they ever discover who it is…I love Lucy, but I don’t think she can keep this to herself. By lunchtime tomorrow, everyone at school will think that I only got a lead role because of Louis. I can’t let that happen.
“You have that glow,” Lucy says, pointing at my cheeks.