Stephanie Perkins - Anna and the French Kiss

Oh my God. “How did you know?”

“Josh told me.”

“When?”

“November.”

I’m stunned. “I . . . I ...” My throat is dry. “If you’d seen the look on your face that day. In the restaurant. How could I possibly tell you? With your mother—”

“But if you had, I wouldn’t have wasted all of these months. I thought you were turning me down. I thought you weren’t interested.”

“But you were drunk! You had a girlfriend! What was I supposed to do? God, St. Clair, I didn’t even know if you meant it.”

“Of course I meant it.” He stands, and his legs falter.

“Careful!”

Step. Step. Step. He toddles toward me, and I reach for his hand to guide him.We’re so close to the edge. He sits next to me and grips my hand harder. “I meant it, Anna. I mean it.”

“I don’t under—”

He’s exasperated. “I’m saying I’m in love with you! I’ve been in love with you this whole bleeding year!”

My mind spins. “But Ellie—”

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again. She was nothing compared to you. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before—”

“But—”

“The first day of school.” He scoots closer. “We weren’t physics partners by accident. I saw Professeur Wakefield assigning lab partners based on where people were sitting, so I leaned forward to borrow a pencil from you at just the right moment so he’d think we were next to each other. Anna, I wanted to be your partner the first day.”

“But ...” I can’t think straight.

“I bought you love poetry! ‘I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.’”

I blink at him.

“Neruda. I starred the passage. God,” he moans. “Why didn’t you open it?”

“Because you said it was for school.”

“I said you were beautiful. I slept in your bed!”

“You never made a move! You had a girlfriend!”

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know. With me being there, I thought you’d know.”

We’re going in circles. “How could I know if you never said anything?”

“How could I know if you never said anything?”

“You had Ellie!”

“You had Toph! And Dave!”

I’m speechless. I blink at the rooftops of Paris.

He touches my cheek, pulling my gaze back to him. I suck in my breath.

“Anna. I’m sorry for what happened in Luxembourg Gardens. Not because of the kiss—I’ve never had a kiss like that in my life—but because I didn’t tell you why I was running away. I chased after Meredith because of you.”

Touch me again. Please, touch me again.

“All I could think about was what that bastard did to you last Christmas. Toph never tried to explain or apologize. How could I do that to Mer? And I ought to have called you before I went to Ellie’s, but I was so anxious to just end it, once and for all, that I wasn’t thinking straight.”

I reach for him. “St. Clair—”

He pulls back. “And that. Why don’t you call me Étienne anymore?”

“But . . . no one else calls you that. It was weird. Right?”

“No. It wasn’t.” His expression saddens. “And every time you say ‘St. Clair,’ it’s like you’re rejecting me again.”

“I have never rejected you.”

“But you have. And for Dave.” His tone is venomous.

“And you rejected me for Ellie on my birthday. I don’t understand. If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

He gazes at the river. “I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

“Yes. You have.”

“I deserve that.”

“Yes. You do.” I pause. “But I’ve been stupid, too. You were right. About . . . the alone thing.”

We sit in silence. “I’ve been thinking lately,” he says after a while. “About me mum and dad. How she gives in to him. How she won’t leave him. And as much as I love her, I hate her for it. I don’t understand why she won’t stand up for herself, why she won’t go for what she wants. But I’ve been doing the same thing. I’m just like her.”

I shake my head. “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 me 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 meant to hurt you.”

I trail my fingers across his cheek. He stays perfectly still for me. “Please stop apologizing, Étienne.”

“Say my name again,” he whispers.

I close my eyes and lean forward. “Étienne.”

He takes my hands into his.Those perfect 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 then 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.

Rashmi clears her throat and glares at us.

“Seriously,” Josh says. “We were never like that, were we?”

Mer groans and chucks her pen at him. Josh and Rashmi have broken up. In a way, it’s strange they waited this long. It seemed inevitable, but then again, so did other things. And those things took a while, too.

They’ve split as amicably as possible. It didn’t make sense for them to keep this up long distance.They both seem relieved. Rashmi’s excited about Brown, and Josh . . . well, he still has to come to terms with the fact that we’re leaving and he’s staying. And he is staying. He squeaked by again, barely. He’s losing himself in his drawings, and his hands are in a constant state of cramps.Truthfully, I’m worried. I know how it feels to be alone. But Josh is an attractive, funny guy. He’ll make new friends.

We’re studying for exams in my room. It’s dusk, and a warm breeze blows my curtains. Summer is almost here. I’ll see Bridge again soon. I received a new email from her. Things are shaky, but we’re trying. I’ll take that.

Étienne and I are sitting side by side, feet intertwined. His fingers trace swirly patterns on my arm. I burrow into him, inhaling that scent of shampoo and shaving cream and that something else that’s just him that I can never get enough of. He kisses my stripe. I tilt my head, and his mouth moves onto mine. I run a hand through his perfect, messy hair.

I LOVE his hair, and now I get to touch it whenever I want.

And he doesn’t even get irritated. Most of the time.

Meredith has been very accepting of our relationship. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she’s attending college in Rome. “Imagine,” she said, after registering, “a whole city of gorgeous Italian guys. They can say anything to me, and it’ll be sexy.”

“You’ll be so easy,” Rashmi said. “Would you like-ah to order-ah the spa-ghe-tti? ‘Oh, do me, Marco!’”

“I wonder if Marco will like football?” Mer asked dreamily.

As for us, Étienne 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 Zéro 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!” Étienne 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.”