Anna and the French Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

its art and make me suffer through another math class. I shuffle toward Meredith and Rashmi, feeling like the third wheel but praying for some shared classes. I’m in luck. “Three with me and four with Rash!” Meredith beams and hands back my schedule. Her rainbow-colored plastic rings click against each other.
    Rash. What an unfortunate nickname. They gossip about people I don’t know, and my mind wanders to the other side of the courtyard, where St. Clair waits with Josh in Q-through-Z. I wonder if I have any classes with him.
    I mean, them . Classes with them.
    The rain has stopped, and Josh kicks a puddle in St. Clair’s direction. St. Clair laughs and says something that makes them both laugh even harder. Suddenly I register that St. Clair is shorter than Josh. Much shorter. It’s odd I didn’t notice earlier, but he doesn’t carry himself like a short guy. Most are shy or defensive, or some messed-up combination of the two, but St. Clair is confident and friendly and—
    “Jeez, stare much?”
    “What?” I jerk my head back, but Rashmi’s not talking to me. She’s shaking her head at Meredith, who looks as sheepish as I feel.
    “You’re burning holes into St. Clair’s head. It’s not attractive.”
    “Shut up.” But Meredith smiles at me and shrugs.
    Well. That settles that. As if I needed another reason not to lust. Boy Wonder is officially off-limits. “Don’t say anything to him,” she says. “Please.”
    “Of course,” I say.
    “Because we’re obviously just friends.”
    “Obviously.”
    We mill around until the head of school arrives for her welcome speech. The head is graceful and carries herself like a ballerina. She has a long neck, and her snow-white hair is pulled into a tidy knot that makes her look distinguished rather than elderly. The overall effect is Parisian, although I know from my acceptance letter she’s from Chicago. Her gaze glides across us, her one hundred handpicked pupils. “Welcome to another exciting year at the School of America in Paris. I’m pleased to see so many familiar faces, and I’m even happier to see the new ones.”
    Apparently school speeches are one thing France can’t improve.
    “To the students who attended last year, I invite you all to give a warm welcome to your new freshman class and to the new upperclassmen, as well.”
    A smattering of polite applause. I glance around, and I’m startled to find St. Clair looking at me. He claps and lifts his hands in my direction. I blush and jerk away.
    The head keeps talking. Focus, Anna. Focus. But I feel his stare as if it were the heat of the sun. My skin grows moist with sweat. I slide underneath one of the immaculately pruned trees. Why is he staring? Is he still staring? I think he is. Why why why? Is it a good stare or a bad stare or an indifferent stare?
    But when I finally look, he’s not staring at me at all. He’s biting his pinkie nail.
    The head wraps up, and Rashmi bounds off to join the guys. Meredith leads me inside for English. The professeur hasn’t arrived yet, so we choose seats in the back. The classroom is smaller than what I’m used to, and it has dark, gleaming trim and tall windows that look like doors. But the desks are the same, and the whiteboard and the wall-mounted pencil sharpener. I concentrate on these familiar items to ease my nerves.
    “You’ll like Professeur Cole,” Meredith says. “She’s hilarious, and she always assigns the best books.”
    “My dad is a novelist.” I blurt this without thinking and immediately regret it.
    “Really? Who?”
    “James Ashley.” That’s his pen name. I guess Oliphant wasn’t romantic enough.
    “Who?”
    The humiliation factor multiplies. “ The Decision? The Entrance? They were made into movies. Forget it, they all have vague names like that—”
    She leans forward, excited. “No, my mom loves The Entrance !”
    I wrinkle my nose.
    “They aren’t that bad. I watched The Entrance with her once and totally cried