by Cathy Hapka
I guess my friends really set me up for that first impression of Paris, she realized, a little uneasy at the idea. And maybe I set myself up for it, too. Okay, so maybe that was a little close-minded of me....But now her opinions had changed, especially after hanging out with people like Annike and Marie and Luc.
Shaking her head and feeling vaguely disloyal, she wondered what that meant. Who was she, if she couldn’t even form an opinion someone else didn’t give her?
Just then a twentysomething couple strolled past. Their arms were intertwined, and the woman wore a single white rose tucked into her dark hair. Her companion—boyfriend, husband, lover?—was gazing at her with the kind of rapt adoration that made him look to be unaware that there was anything else in the world beyond her face.
Nicole’s eyes filled with tears. Had Nate ever looked at her like that? All of a sudden she couldn’t quite remember. But she knew it should be her strolling along the plaza, trading kisses and smiles, being happy.
She couldn’t bear to sit there anymore. All she wanted to do was run home and spend the rest of her stay in Paris crying into her pillow. She rushed for the métro station, almost blinded by tears.
Half an hour later Nicole was letting herself into the apartment as quietly as she could. But not quite quietly enough. Marissa’s face popped into view around the corner.
“Nicole’s home!” she shouted. Then she stepped forward. “Hey Nicole, wanna see what I painted?”
She held out one slightly grubby hand, which was holding a wrinkled sheet of construction paper. Forcing a smile, Nicole glanced at the picture painted on it. “Very nice,” she said, trying to stay patient. “Who’s that fat guy in the picture? Is that your teacher at school?”
The little girl looked surprised and slightly pained. “Non!” she replied. “It’s you. See your pretty blond hair?” She pointed at a streak of yellow at the top of the blobby figure.
Nicole was feeling desperate to escape. “Oh, okay, I see now,” she said. “Um, it looks just like me! You’re quite an artist.”
“Thanks.” Marissa shoved the paper toward her. “Here, you can have it if you want. Luc said we should be extra-nice to you today.”
“He said what?” Without quite realizing what she was doing, Nicole accepted the picture. “Luc said that?”
At that moment Luc appeared. “Hey, Mari,” he chided gently. “You were not supposed to tell her that.”
The little girl shrugged and grinned. “Sorry.” She skipped off, disappearing back around the corner.
Nicole bowed her head, not meeting Luc’s eye. The last thing she wanted was his pity.
“Excuse me,” she muttered. “I was just on my way to my room.”
He caught her by the arm as she tried to pass. “Wait.” She blinked and stared down at his hand on her arm. “Let go,” she said between clenched teeth. “I want to be by myself, okay?”
He dropped her arm immediately but made no move to retreat. “Are you sure about that?” His voice was unusually gentle. “I am here to listen if you like. I have been where you are myself. I think anyone who has ever loved has been there. I will try to understand—as a friend.”
Nicole couldn’t help being a little touched by his obvious concern. But she shook her head.
“Thanks,” she said firmly. “But I know what I want.”
The next morning Nicole woke up from a night filled with restless dreams. But it wasn’t until she glanced at the calendar on her bedroom wall, the one with the big red heart drawn around yesterday’s date, that she remembered. Nate. Nate wasn’t here—wasn’t coming.
The reality of it hit her like a Mack truck in the gut. It was as if the entire universe had just rearranged itself, leaving her feeling disoriented and slightly ill. The weekend stretched ahead of her, two endless days filled with nothing but might-have-beens. With a groan, she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to her closet.
Why? she thought blearily as she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. What did I do to make him change his mind? Why wouldn’t he want to see me?
She stared around the small bedroom for a moment, feeling lost. Then her gaze fell on her laptop. Maybe he’d e-mailed her to explain.
Her heart jumped hopefully at the thought. Maybe this was some kind of weird mistake. Maybe he just wanted to switch the trip to next weekend or something....
Grabbing the laptop, she quickly logged on. The first message in her in-box was from Nate. “Yes!” she whispered, clicking to open it.
Nicole’s heart froze as she quickly read through the message again, wondering if this was some kind of joke. He was “questioning stuff”? What did that mean? How could he say they were taking things too fast when they hadn’t even been on the same continent for, like, months? And what did he mean, “see other people”?
Is he...breaking up with me? Her mind could hardly recognize the thought.
Leaving the computer blinking on her desk, she flew back out to the kitchen and grabbed the phone, her heart pounding. She tried Nate’s number first, but there was no answer. She was about to try Zara, but she hesitated. Somehow, Zara wasn’t the person she wanted to hear this from. Instead she dialed a different number.
“Patrice?” she blurted into the phone when she heard her friend’s chirpy voice on the other end of the line. “It’s me.”
“Nicole?” Patrice sounded startled. “Is that really you? Wow, how are you? How’s Paris?”
“What’s going on?” Nicole demanded without bothering to answer. “I just got a really weird e-mail from Nate. There’s no answer at his house, and I need to know what’s what.”
“Um, what did he say?” Patrice asked weakly.
Patrice had never been a very good liar. Nicole could tell by her voice that she was being evasive. “What are you not telling me?” she cried. “Come on, Patrice, please! I need to know!”
“I’m so so sorry for not telling you this before!” Patrice wailed miserably. “Zara said I probably shouldn’t get in the middle of it, even though I thought you should know, and you know how persuasive she can be when she thinks she’s right—which is always, of course—and then Annie backs her up and it’s like I can’t stand up to them, and...”
“What?” Nicole practically shouted, clutching the phone tightly. “What didn’t they want you to tell me?”
“It just happened last weekend.” Patrice gulped loudly, clearly trying to regain control of herself. “We had the Harvest Dance, you know? Anyway, Nate went stag. But then afterward...well, a few people saw him and Sherri Michaels out in the parking lot—you know.”
Nicole felt her whole body go cold. “He kissed her?”
“Yeah.” Patrice sounded sad. “He did. The rat.”
The room seemed to swirl dizzily around Nicole as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing. It was true, then. Her whole life had just changed with one e-mail.
“He cheated on me,” she said blankly, trying to make the words make sense. “He cheated on me, and now he’s breaking up with me.”
Just like you cheated on him, a little voice in her head accused pitilessly. She gulped. So far she hadn’t told a soul what had happened between her and Luc that day at Versailles.
But she would deal with that later. Right now she had to fix this. Somehow, she had to put her life back on course.
I can’t let this be the end of us, she thought in a panic. Everything she’d always counted on appeared to be slipping away. It was the scariest thing she’d ever faced—far worse than all those times her parents had announced they were moving yet again. Even worse than when they’d told her she had to go to France. Just when she thought she’d found her balance, something had come along to yank the rug out from under her feet.
Becoming aware that Patrice was still babbling away on the other end of the line, Nicole suddenly snapped back to reality. Her friend seemed to be offering to tell Nate off for her the next time she saw him.
“No,” Nicole interrupted numbly. “Do
n’t do that. I—I think I’d better come home and straighten this out myself.”
“Come home?” Patrice repeated. “Can you do that?”
“Sure, why not?” Nicole was already distracted, calculating the time difference between Paris and home and how long the flight would take. With any luck, she could be back there by midnight, Maryland time. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I get there. Oh, and Patrice? Thanks.”
She pushed the button to hang up, then prepared to dial again. But she immediately realized she had no idea how to go about booking herself a last-minute flight back to the United States. She stared at the phone in her hand, feeling helpless. The Smiths wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours, and Luc was out somewhere with the kids. Besides, there was no way she was going to ask for his help with this....
“Marie,” she murmured, suddenly hitting upon the answer. Marie would help her—she was exactly the kind of person who knew about this sort of thing.
Replacing the phone, Nicole hurried out of the apartment and down the stairs. She knocked sharply on Marie’s door, hoping that someone was home.
A moment later the door swung open. “Bonjour, Nicole,” Marie greeted her pleasantly. “What a nice surprise. Do come in and I’ll put the kettle on.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really have time for tea today,” Nicole told her. “I need your help with something. It’s urgent. And superimportant.”
Marie nodded calmly. “Well, come in anyway, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Nicole quickly explained the whole situation. Marie listened quietly as the words poured out of her.
“...and I’m afraid if I don’t go home right now, he’ll decide he made the right choice in that e-mail. But I know he didn’t. He might think he wants to break up with me, but I know he doesn’t really,” Nicole finished at last. “He can’t possibly realize what he’s doing and what it means. That’s why I need to get home as soon as possible.”
“But why?” Marie challenged. “What will it accomplish?”
Nicole stopped, briefly annoyed. Hadn’t Marie heard a word she’d said?
Then she thought about Marie’s question. “Well, it will probably make my parents mad, for one thing,” she admitted with a ghost of a smile. Now that she had slowed down a little, she realized that she and Nate weren’t the only ones involved with this plan. “And I guess the Smiths will be sort of confused....”
“And you?” Marie prompted. “What about you? How will it make you feel if you go and his mind does not change?”
“But what if I can change his mind?” Nicole argued, emotion swirling up in her again as she remembered what this was really about. “I mean, okay, maybe there are no guarantees or whatever. But how can I sit back and not even try?”
“Because it is his decision to make.” Marie took both of Nicole’s hands in her own and squeezed. “This is my point. He is feeling something, and whether you like it or not, it is perhaps not fair to try to change that. Do you see?”
“Not really,” Nicole admitted. “I’m sure he’s just confused because we’re apart.”
“Perhaps,” Marie agreed. “And if that is true, he will come around when you return to him at the end of the semester, no?”
“I guess.” Nicole shrugged. “Unless some other girl snags him before then.”
“But if that were to happen, what would it say of his character?” Marie said. “Don’t you think you deserve a boy who cares only for you—one whose head will not be turned by other girls?”
Nicole didn’t know what to say to that. “So are you advising me not to go? To stay here and just stew about this?”
Marie smiled. “No. I am telling you to think about all your options before you act in haste.”
That didn’t seem like much help to Nicole. Suddenly she felt very tired—too tired even to think about rushing around trying to book a flight that night.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said wearily. “I guess maybe I should sleep on it. I can always fly home tomorrow if I still feel like it.”
“Yes.” Marie lifted one hand and pushed back a lock of hair from Nicole’s face, suddenly looking very maternal. “You always have choices, my dear. Always. Never forget that.”
After saying good-bye, Nicole wandered back upstairs, still feeling confused and sad. The Smiths’ apartment was still quiet and empty, making her feel lonely. She tried to call Nate, but got only his voice mail; she hung up without leaving a message.
Then she stared at the phone, wondering if there was any chance Annike might be home at the moment—and if she’d want to talk to her if she was. After the way she’d been acting the past couple of weeks, she wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t. But she really wanted someone to talk to, and she couldn’t afford the long-distance charges to call her friends back home.
“Annike?” Nicole said tentatively when her friend’s host mother called her to the phone. “Hi. It’s me, Nicole. Are you busy?”
She was embarrassed to realize that her voice was quavering like crazy. Annike obviously noticed, too, because her voice was full of concern when she answered.
“No, I was just watching television,” she said. “What’s the matter? Is Nate there?”
“Not exactly.” Nicole took a deep breath. “That’s sort of why I’m calling....”
By the time she finished talking things out with Annike, Nicole actually felt a little bit better. But only a little.
It’s nice to know I have true friends here, she thought, remembering Annike’s sympathy and words of advice and commiseration. But that doesn’t change the fact that the love of my life just dumped me.
Realizing it was way past lunchtime and her empty stomach was growling irritably, Nicole wandered out of her bedroom. She was surprised to find Luc waiting for her in the quiet, otherwise empty kitchen. “I thought you had the afternoon off today,” she blurted out.
He shrugged. “I do. That is why I am here.”
“Huh?” She was too tired and depressed even to attempt to figure that one out.
“I ran into Marie downstairs; I thought you might need company,” he said. “The Smiths, they are out for a while taking the children to the park. So it is just you and me—you know, in case you want to talk. Or if you should want to take your mind off your problems and do something distracting.”
Nicole’s first, rather irritated thought was that he was trying to flirt with her and she opened her mouth, ready to shoot him down. Clearly Marie had told him about Nate. But just because her boyfriend had dumped her, it didn’t mean she was ready to jump into something with the next available guy she encountered....Then she looked at him and saw the sincere look in his green eyes.
She shut her mouth with a snap. “Is there any coffee?” she asked. “Or food? I’m starved.”
“Right here.” Luc bustled around the kitchen pouring her coffee, getting her toast and jam and a napkin.
The food and caffeine made her feel a bit better. But only a bit. It still felt as if her heart had been run over by a freight train. “Look, I appreciate the offer,” she told Luc, who was leaning against the counter watching her eat. “But you don’t have to waste your day off hanging around here. I’m not going to be much fun.”
He fluttered one hand expressively. “N’importe,” he said. “I do not mind. Anyway, as I said, I think perhaps some distraction would help you. We could go out and do something.”
Nicole tried to demur. But Luc just smiled and asked again. And again.
“Look, don’t you have any friends of your own?” Nicole snapped at last, flicking a few toast crumbs off the table. “It’s not that I’m calling you a loser, but it’s a little weird how obsessed you are with this....”
Luc shrugged. “So we shall go out for a while, n’est-ce pas?”
Nicole sighed. It seemed he wasn’t planning to take no for an answer.
“Whatever,” she said wearily. “What did you have in mind?”
Luc smiled. “Why don�
�t we go for a walk?”
A few minutes later they were wandering through the neighborhood, nibbling at crêpes from the local shop. It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon, and there were lots of other people out on the streets. The familiar hustle and bustle made Nicole feel a little more normal than she had all day.
She noticed they were approaching a popular local bistro. “I was going to bring Nate here for dinner last night.” She shot Luc a sidelong, slightly suspicious glance, waiting for him to make fun of her or say something disparaging about Nate.
Instead he nodded. “It was a good choice,” he said. “I am sure he would have loved it.”
“I’m not so sure,” Nicole muttered, scanning the menu board as they got closer. She wasn’t really in the mood to defend Nate suddenly. “He’d probably complain about the menu being in French, then demand they cook him a cheeseburger or a deep-dish pepperoni pizza or something.”
“Hmm,” Luc responded.
Nicole bit her lip, suddenly feeling a little disloyal for her comments, true though they might be. “Of course there’s a lot more to life than food,” she said hurriedly. “It’s not like French food is exactly my favorite, either. Well, aside from crêpes and a few other things.”
“Different people, different tastes—or as we might say here in France, tous les goûts sont dans la nature,” Luc said calmly. “Now, shall we go visit the Pompidou Center again? Or perhaps Notre Dame—a beautiful spot to go on a beautiful autumn day.”
“Sure, whatever,” Nicole said with disinterest, still staring at the menu board. She would have suggested that Nate order the croque monsieur or maybe the cassoulet. No matter how much he made fun of the names of the food, he would have had to admit it tasted good....
Maybe he’ll change his mind about all this on his own, she thought with a sudden flash of hope. Maybe that’s what Marie was really trying to tell me—that he’ll probably realize what he’s done and that he misses me too much to leave things this way....
That hopeful thought kept her occupied on the métro most of the way to Notre Dame. Luc didn’t seem to have much to say for once, leaving her free to ponder it.
