Camille came home well after dinner, when I was getting ready to go to bed. I heard her and her mother murmuring in French before she came into our room. I was already in bed, strategically facing the wall so I wouldn’t have to look at her. It was nearly ten o’clock—early for me. I was still jet lagged, but the sun hadn’t set, which felt weird.
“I know you’re awake,” Camille said in a low tone that held no friendliness. “My mother can insist you share this room with me, but you are not my sister. I don’t even like you.”
I rolled over and sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. “I never claimed to be your sister.” And I was fairly certain liking your sibling wasn’t a requirement. At home, Eric and I were often proof enough of that.
She tilted her head, her dark eyes blazing. “If I could figure out a way to make you go away, I’d do it.”
I didn’t expect her to be my new best friend, particularly after her not-so-welcoming greeting the other day, but I couldn’t understand her hostility. I hadn’t asked for this either. “I’m sure it’s not that easy to dispose of a body when you don’t have a car.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.
She looked puzzled for a moment, then she scowled and turned away from me.
I was a little afraid to go to sleep. While I doubted she’d murder me in cold blood, I could think of a whole list of other possible offenses. I finally drifted off, only to be roused by Eric’s irritated voice.
“Are you coming or not?” Eric stood in the doorway, leaning his shoulder into the frame.
I sat up, still groggy. “What?”
“Notre Dame. Remember?”
Now I was awake. Eric, Dane, and I had made plans to see the Notre Dame cathedral today, and I was actually excited to see a little more of Paris. Oh, and my wicked stepsister was coming too. “You said you would wake me an hour before it was time to go!”
“Camille said she woke you. Did you go back to sleep? We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
That witch.
I jumped out of bed. “Give me fifteen.”
“Camille says you only have ten. We’re meeting her friends.”
Crap. “Fine.” How was I supposed to dress to impress Dane in only ten minutes? But that was probably her plan. Maybe she was hoping for an excuse to leave me behind. Not a chance.
I was ready in nine minutes, and I looked surprisingly good given my stingy time allotment. My long dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and I was wearing a pair of white capris, a pale blue cotton blouse, and white sandals. I stuffed a hundred American dollars into my pocket, hoping we could stop by a bank and exchange it. I also took my phone. I couldn’t use it to text or call, but the camera still worked.
Camille and the guys were waiting in the entryway.
“Finally,” Eric grunted.
Dane gave me a teasing smile. “Soph was just getting her beauty sleep.”
To my utter embarrassment, my face warmed, and I looked away from him. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, but of course Camille did.
She broke out into a smile, her eyebrows lifting. “Let’s go see Paris. I’m ready to have a wonderful day.”
Somehow it sounded like a warning.
CHAPTER Seven
I LOST INTEREST in Notre Dame after about ten minutes. I had never been in a seven-hundred-year-old church before, and it was certainly impressive. But it wasn’t too different from many of the projects my father had worked on—only on a larger scale. Maybe I would have loved it more if it hadn’t been so crowded. The throngs of people made it difficult to see anything.
But to be fair, Notre Dame didn’t stand a chance against the beauty of Dane Wallace. I seriously could not believe my luck. Like me, Eric was only mildly interested in the cathedral, and I was sure Camille had seen it a million times before. Poor Dane needed someone to share his excitement, so I gave him my full attention, not necessarily a difficult task.
“Did you know Notre Dame was the first building to use flying buttresses?” he asked, looking at the stone structures over our heads.
“Really?” Dad had told us that once, back when I was in grade school and he was working on some church in Virginia. I was still Daddy’s little girl back then, scooping up his every word and committing it to memory.
I couldn’t believe Dane was actually talking to me—Sophie Brooks, Eric’s little sister. But Camille soon took over the conversation, pointing out little details Dane didn’t know, like the fact that French revolutionaries had replaced a statue of the Virgin Mary with Lady Liberty and beheaded the statues of biblical kings after mistakenly assuming they were statues of the kings of France.
Soon he was hanging on her every word. We squeezed between a family with three young children, and Camille glanced over her shoulder to give me a triumphant smile. She wasn’t even interested in Dane. But she knew I was.
“The inside is impressive,” she said as we stopped in front of yet another statue of some saint. “But the real view is from the top.”
“The top of what?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes like I was an imbecile. “The cathedral.”
I swung my head around, taking in the massive room. “We’ve almost made it completely around this place and I never once saw any stairs.”
“They are on the outside.” She gave me a condescending look. “Of course.”
Of course. I wanted to roll my own eyes but wouldn’t give her the pleasure.
She lightly set her hand on top of Dane’s. “But there is usually a wait and we are to meet my friends at Jardin du Luxembourg in an hour and a half. So we must get in the queue.”
I’d forgotten we were going to be meeting her friends. More snotty French kids. Great.
Dane’s face lit up, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of the location of her hand or her suggestion. “Will I be able to see the gargoyles up close?”
Camille gave him the sweetest of smiles. “Very close.”
Dane cast a questioning glance at Eric, who shrugged. “Why not? Let’s do it.”
I followed them through the crowd and out the door into the sunshine. While the last few days had been cool, today was warmer and more like home. But Camille was right about the line. There was a forty-minute wait.
“We could try to come back another day,” she said, scanning the people hugging the side of the cathedral as they waited to turn a corner and go inside a door. “If we were to get here earlier in the morning, the wait would probably be about twenty minutes. But today is sunny and the view will be better.”
Dane shook his head. “I’m only here for four weeks. Let’s go up today. I want to see a ton of other places while I’m here. We might not make it back.”
We moved to the back of the line, and I was grateful we were in the shade. Dane read a sign in one of the shop windows across the street in French, then said in English, “Only paying customers may use the restroom.”
Camille turned to him in surprise. “Parlez-vous français?”
A grin spread across his face. “Oui. Un peu.”
Eric said something in broken French, and before I knew it, the three of them were having their own conversation.
The guys seemed oblivious to my exclusion, but after several minutes Camille’s eyebrows lifted. “Parlez-vous français, Sophie?”
My eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Sophie struggles to master English,” Eric said with a teasing grin.
Dane broke into laughter, although I probably had better English grades than both of them. I rolled my eyes to show my indifference, but inside I was fuming. Camille was ruining everything.
“We should switch to English since poor little Sophie doesn’t understand,” Camille said with a pout. It was so obviously fake, but my brother and Dane seemed clueless.
“Nah, she’ll be fine,” Eric insisted. “I’m taking AP French next year. I need the practice.”
Thirty minutes later we finally made it inside. I knew this was a disastrous idea the moment I saw the n
arrow circular stone staircase leading to the gift shop. But it was too late to back out now, and besides, I didn’t want Dane and Camille to know I was a baby. Eric purchased all our tickets to go to the top of the cathedral while Camille took a phone call, sending glances toward me that made it clear she was discussing her annoying American stepsister. Since Dane and Eric were poring over some book about the cathedral, I wandered around to look at the crappy tourist knickknacks, wondering who actually bought cheap snow globes with plastic replicas of Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower. Thankfully, they called for our group to line up.
Eric and Dane were first in the line, and I fell in behind them. Camille ended her call with a chorus of laughter and joined us, smirking when she stood next to me. The look in her eyes told me she was up to something, but I was clueless as to what.
The line started moving as our guide led us through a hallway, then started up a tighter spiral staircase than the one leading to the store. My heart began to race, but I urged myself to calm down. It might be a confined space, but common sense dictated that nothing was going to happen to me. Still, I’d seen the outside of the building. There were a lot more stairs to climb.
I shot a look up to Eric, but he seemed oblivious to my rising panic. I was claustrophobic, a fact of which he was well aware. He had loved playing hide-and-seek with me when we were kids because I was always ridiculously easy to find.
Overcome your fear, Sophie. Taking a deep breath, I decided I could do this. For once, I could conquer what I knew was an unrealistic anxiety. And I did okay for about fifteen steps . . . until I couldn’t see the entrance behind me and there was no visible doorway above me. I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the spiral staircase.
Eric sensed my abrupt halt and turned around. “Sophie?”
I struggled to catch my breath.
“Mademoiselle,” the guide said none too gently. “You must continue up.”
I wondered how he knew I understood English, but the thought barely registered because the rest of my body was in full protest.
“Oh crap,” Eric groaned. “I forgot.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. “I can’t do it.” The mass of irritated people behind me only drove that point home. Even if I tried to keep going, there’d be no turning back if I changed my mind. Given my current luck, I’d spend the rest of the summer on top of Notre Dame Cathedral.
“What’s wrong?” Dane asked, sounding confused.
“Sophie hates small spaces.”
“What does she think is going to happen?” Dane asked him—not me.
Camille’s upper lip curled. “Don’t be such a child.”
Eric started down the few steps he’d climbed. “You guys go on ahead.” Resignation was heavy in his voice. “I’ll wait with Sophie.”
The protests from the crowd behind me grew louder, and the man at my back gave me a small shove.
“Mademoiselle,” the tour guide said, more insistent. “You are blocking the guests.”
I turned to Eric, who now stood in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
He looked into my face, and to my surprise his eyes softened. At home, he would have been irritated. “I know. Let’s just go wait out front.”
“No, I can wait by myself.”
“I can’t let you go down there alone,” he said. “Dad would kill me if you got lost.”
He didn’t really want to stay with me, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. He wanted to go up there with his friend. “I’m not stupid,” I said, feeling irritated, but mostly with myself. “I’m sure I can find the front of the church even with my supposedly subpar English and non-existent French skills. You go up with Dane and I’ll wait for you.” I purposely left Camille out of the sentence, daring to hope they might forget her up at the top.
“Soph,” he pleaded.
I shoved his arm. “I’m fine. Go.”
Conflict waged on his face, so I made the decision for him. I spun around and pushed my way through the cranky crowd. They had to go back down the stairs to let me past, and several people broke into applause when I reached the bottom, only adding to my humiliation.
Thankfully, Eric didn’t follow me. I had no desire to ruin the experience for him. Plus, I needed a few minutes to get a grip. This day wasn’t turning out as I had hoped, and it was only eleven thirty.
I exited where the line went in, and it wasn’t hard to find the front of the church—a four-year-old could have done it. A huge paver stone square extended from the entrance, crowded with people speaking several languages, none of which I understood except for a British family and a smattering of German from a young couple who were having an argument. I had a feeling some of the words they were slinging around weren’t in Ms. Maloney’s German II lesson plans.
A group of people seemed to be centered in a specific area, about thirty feet from the carved front doors, and I decided to head in that direction. Now that I was alone, separated from the drama of Dane and Camille, I had to admit that the cathedral spoke to me. It wasn’t just like any other old building. I craned my neck to look up at the carved figures over the doors, breathtaking on their own. Maybe I would actually enjoy coming here with Jenna.
Boys and stepsisters ruined everything.
When I heard cheering, I turned my attention back to the loose circle of what looked like a group of college students. A couple stood in the center, their arms around each other’s necks as they stared into each other’s eyes.
Curious, I moved toward the circle as the couple moved to the side. A woman with two blonde braids grabbed the hand of the guy next to her. His face turned beet red as she stopped in the center and planted a kiss on his lips. The other students went wild.
“That’s the way to show him, Karina!” a girl next to me shouted in an English accent. Her short black bob bounced as she shot her fist into the air.
As soon as the blonde woman broke the kiss, a big grin spread across her face. “Who’s next?”
Several people laughed. Their happiness was contagious, and I couldn’t stop myself from asking the girl next to me, “What’s going on?”
She cast a glance at me and broke into a wide grin. “They’re kissing on Point Zero.”
“What? Why?”
She pointed to the couple’s feet. A bronze star was embedded into the ground with four stones around it to form a circle. “That’s Point Zero. It used to literally be the center of Paris. There are lots of superstitions about it. Some say you can stand on it and make a wish, and it will come true. Others say it will bring you good luck if you kiss your true love while standing on it.”
The blonde woman started to walk back to the side of the group, but the guy pulled her back and kissed her again. The students cheered them on, several of the guys letting out a loud “Woot!”
The girl next to me leaned closer. “Chris has had a crush on Karina for eons, but he’s shy. So she decided to take matters into her own hands.”
“Are you on a school trip from England?” I asked.
She laughed. “No. I’m an Aussie. Australian,” she added when she saw my blank look. “We’re here at uni for a winter seminar.”
I squinted in confusion. “But it’s summer.”
She laughed. “It’s winter for us. The whole bottom of the world thing.”
“Oh.”
The guy put his arm around Karina and led her off to the side, leaving the center empty.
“Who’s next?” someone shouted.
The girl with the black bob shoved me into the middle of the circle, and my heart caught in my throat. Did they expect me to kiss one of these college students? Jenna would have loved to do it, but I’d never kissed a boy at all. I sure didn’t want to do it with some guy I didn’t know, let alone surrounded by a group of cheering students.
I shook my head as I stumbled into the center. “I . . . uh . . .”
“Make a wish!” the girl with the bob said. “Close your eyes and make a wish. They say it will come true within the
hour!”
I knew that was a lie. It was as superstitious as those stupid chain texts that used to freak Jenna out—forward this to seven friends within the next hour and you’ll find your true love, but if you don’t, a piano will fall on your head. Still, their excitement was contagious and I wanted to play along. At least these people wanted to include me. But what on earth should I wish for?
“Sophie!” I heard my name shouted from above my head, and I glanced up to see Eric and Dane waving to me. Camille was leaning her head against Dane’s shoulder. Their faces were too far away for me to see her expression, but I knew it had to be smug.
I ignored them and closed my eyes, now even more confused about what to wish for. I thought I’d wanted Dane, but that dream was unlikely since my beautiful stepsister had staked her claim. Maybe Eric had been right on the plane. Maybe I was too uptight to have a boyfriend.
I heard the students around me getting restless. Jeez, I was so anal I couldn’t even get making a freaking wish right. Without thinking, I mumbled under my breath the first thing that popped into my head. “I want a boyfriend.”
My eyes opened, and the group cheered. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. These Aussies were a happy bunch. I was half-tempted to beg my way into their group for the rest of the summer.
They started walking away from the medallion, and the girl with the bob waved. “Have a wonderful holiday.”
“You too.”
I watched them wander off, wondering why I’d wasted my wish. I should have wished for the piano scholarship, reconciliation with my dad, or a whole list of other more important things. Then I reminded myself it wasn’t real. It wasn’t worth kicking myself over.
Twenty minutes later, the others joined me in the square.
“You should have gone up,” Eric said as he walked over, looking relieved to see me still there and in one piece. “The view was awesome.”
“Were you frightened, Sophie?” Camille asked, her voice overly filled with concern. “When I was in primary school, I had a friend who was frightened to go to the top as well.”
One Paris Summer (Blink) Page 5