“I mean, am I as obvious as her?”

“Considering she’s wearing the American flag, I’d venture a no on that one.” He bites his thumbnail. “Listen. I think I have a solution to your problem, but you’ll have to wait for it. Just promise you’ll stop asking me to compare you to fifty-year-old women, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“How? With what? A French passport?”

He snorts. “I didn’t say I’d make you French.” I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “Deal?”

“Deal,” I say uncomfortably. I don’t care for surprises. “But it better be good.”

“Oh, it’s good.” And St. Clair looks so smug that I’m about to call him on it, when I realize I can’t see our school anymore.

I don’t believe it. He’s completely distracted me.

It takes a moment for me to recognize the symptoms, but my heels are bouncing and my stomach is fluttering. I’m finally excited to be out! “So where are we going?” I can’t keep the eagerness from my voice. “The Seine? I know it’s up here somewhere. Are we going to sit on the riverbank?”

“Not telling. Keep walking.”

I let this pass.What’s wrong with me? That’s the second time in one minute I’ve let him keep me in suspense. “Oh! You have to see this first.” He grabs my arm and pulls me across the street. An angry scooter honks its puny horn, and I laugh.

“Wait, what—” And then I’m knocked breathless.

We’re standing in front of an absolute beast of a cathedral. Four thick columns hold up a Gothic facade of imposing statues and rose windows and intricate carvings. A skinny bell tower stretches all the way into the inky blackness of the night sky. “What is it?” I whisper. “Is it famous? Should I know it?”

“It’s my church.”

“You go here?” I’m surprised. He doesn’t seem like the church-going type.

“No.” He nods to a stone placard, indicating I read it.

“Saint Etienne du Mont. Hey! Saint Etienne.”