And it almost seemed like that was the case. Hannah was the only person in the room not infected by Pilar’s happy smile.
“I don’t know,” Hannah said, shrugging. “It doesn’t look very French.”
The attendant drew back, horrified. “Eet ees
very
French!”
“Be reasonable,” Hannah said. “I just don’t think the color suits you.”
Peely glanced at her. “But Colette likes it.”
“Colette doesn’t know everything about clothes,” Hannah said, and I felt her glare out of the corner of my eye.
“Yes, she does!” Pilar said. But she looked doubtful.
“There must be something better,” Hannah said, pulling me to the rack.
This was a test. Nothing would be better than the dress Pilar was wearing, and I wasn’t going to outright lie and say so. I reached out and touched one that was a stiff purply-mauve material covered in starched lace of the same color.
“This fabric is really cool,” I said lamely.
Hannah grabbed that dress and handed it to the attendant.
When the curtain opened, Pilar waited for our response.
The dull purple of the dress had just enough gray in it that it didn’t bring out any of the warm tones in her skin. In fact, it was another dress that would have looked fantastic on Hannah’s cool pallor. But on Peely it was nothing special.
“Great,” Hannah said.
“I like the lace,” Pilar said glumly. “Is it glued on?”
The attendant sniffed but didn’t condescend to answer.
“I’m tired,” Peely said. “I guess I’ll take this one.”
“Perfect,” Hannah said. “Now Colette’s turn.”
As Pilar changed in silence, I went over to the rack to look at the other dresses. There was a teal one with a fitted, jacket-style bodice. I had a sense it would look good on me — too good for Hannah’s taste — and passed over it, reaching for a dusty tan gown that would completely wash out my complexion. But the attendant pushed in front of me, grabbed the teal one, and pulled me into the changing area.
Getting dressed was a squinchy, pinchy process, but I tried not to complain. After she’d buttoned the jacket, the woman looked at me, her eyes shining. Before I could step through the curtain, she grabbed me by the shoulders and aimed me at the mirror.
“
C’est parfait
,” she whispered, pulling my medallion out and settling it over the crisp neckline.
It
was
perfect.
The jacket hugged my rib cage and cut in sharply at the waist, flaring in a short peplum over the top of the skirt. The color, like the ocean on a sunny day, made my skin look as radiant and luminous as the portrait of the duke at the Louvre.
I almost didn’t recognize myself. Hannah’s and Pilar’s dresses, however pretty they were, still looked like costumes. But I looked like a girl who’d woken up in 1785 and put on her traveling outfit.
For a moment, I had the same disoriented feeling I’d experienced in the mirrored room at Versailles, like my eyes couldn’t quite focus on my own face — and when they finally managed to, somehow it wasn’t my face I was seeing. Once again, my eyes were wider and my lips were fuller, and my hair was piled up on my head in an elaborate updo. I reached my arm out to lean against the wall, and the attendant took me by the elbow and swung me around.
Suddenly, it was like the spell was broken. I could see again. And I could breathe again —
But just barely.
What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind?
Who was the woman I’d seen in the mirror, the woman whose face was so similar to my own?
I didn’t have time to think. The attendant pulled the curtain back, revealing me to my friends.
“I don’t like it,” Hannah said immediately. The attendant sucked in an annoyed breath.
Pilar was silent for a moment. “Could you … turn around?”
I turned to let them see the back, which was just as perfect as the front, I knew.
Out of curiosity, I glanced at the tag hanging off the sleeve.
249
EUROS/SEMAINE
+ 100
NETTOYAGE
, it read.
Um.
There was no way on earth I could afford to pay 249 euros (plus another 100 for whatever
nettoyage
was). My dress for the winter formal at school had cost nine dollars at a brown-bag sale at the Women’s League thrift store. The most expensive item of clothing I’d bought in almost a year was a shirt I got for nineteen dollars on clearance at the mall.
Too shocked to speak, I turned back to Hannah, trying to think of a way to get out of this.
“There must be something better,” she said. “How about that beige one?”
That was too much for the attendant. “Actually, I’m so sorry. We are closing.”
We all turned to look at her. She didn’t look sorry, for the record.
Hannah scowled. “It’s just one more dress.”
The girl shrugged, palms up. “No time.”
“Hello, we’re wearing these to
Versailles
,” Hannah said. “Colette’s supposed to go naked?”
The woman blinked. I don’t think she knew what the word
naked
meant.
I touched Hannah’s arm. “Maybe I can come back … it’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a huge deal,” Hannah said hotly. “You can’t just show up to an embassy party in a burlap sack.”
Bristling, I wanted to tell her I wasn’t in the habit of showing up
anywhere
in a burlap sack. But I swallowed the words and cast an apologetic look at the attendant. “I’ll figure something out.”
I saw in her eyes that we were united in our disdain for Hannah’s hissy fit. “If you call, you can make an appointment for Wednesday or Thursday.”
“See?” I said. “I’ll come back.” It didn’t save me from paying 350 euros, but it bought me a little time. Suddenly, I remembered Mathilde’s offer of a dress, and I felt a wave of relief. Maybe I could ask Jules tomorrow.
Hannah pulled out her well-worn Amex and paid for her own gown. As she folded the receipt and slipped it into her red patent-leather shoulder bag, she turned to me. “You know, you can be very passive sometimes. You really need to learn to stand up for yourself, Colette.”
I was no expert on Parisian geography, but I knew the taxi was heading away from our hotel, not toward it. Not wanting to offend the driver, I leaned over and spoke quietly. “Hannah … do you know where we’re going?”
Her smile was as mysterious as the
Mona Lisa
’s. “
Oui
, Colette. I know exactly where we’re going.”
But she wasn’t going to share. All right, then.
Finally, we pulled to a stop on a small side street. Hannah paid and then scrambled out as if her seat were on fire.
This neighborhood was different from Saint-Germain — the boulevards and sidewalks were wider, the buildings were bigger, and the people walking by seemed like they were on their way to work rather than ambling around for the pleasure of it. Pilar and I followed Hannah warily as she led us down the street, looking at the addresses and names of the places we passed.
“There!” she cried, catapulting across the road, dodging traffic. She was headed for a park that occupied a whole block. Pilar and I hung back until the traffic light changed, and then we went after her.
A green metal fence surrounded the park, and in the center was a domed structure that looked like a small museum or church. There was a playground and some benches and a big old tree stump. But still nothing that would indicate why we’d come there.
As Hannah looked at me, her face lit up. And then someone’s hands were over my eyes.
“Guess who?”
I was momentarily flustered by the sound of Armand’s voice, and even more flustered when he took his hands away and I found myself on the receiving end of Hannah’s most toxic glare.
But before Armand could see, her expression changed into one that was sweet and charming. “
Bonjour
,” she said, positioning herself between us.
He kissed her knuckles, and she was instantly under his spell.
“Hey, Armand,” Pilar said, sounding slightly bored.
“
Bonjour
, Pilar,” he said, and then turning to me, “
Bonjour
, Colette.” Those liquid-gold eyes flashed.
I gave him a curt nod and turned to Peely. “Want to walk around?”
While Hannah and Armand wandered off, hands lightly linked, Peely and I went up to the big structure. Up close, it resembled a medieval monastery, with a long center corridor bordered by stone arches. The front had a big paragraph of French writing on it.
“
La Chapelle Expiatoire
,” Pilar read.
“Chapel of …”
“
Expiatoire
means atonement,” Pilar said. Then, seeing my face, she gave a good-natured huff. “Don’t look so surprised, please. We played Sauguet’s
Symphonie Expiatoire
at music camp last year. But that was about World War II. This is way older than that.”
We studied the plaque and tried to work out what it said. The words I could understand seemed to suggest that this had been a burial place … but then it said something about “
transférées
” to Saint-Denis. When I saw the words
Marie-Antoinette
, my heart jumped.
I stumbled backward. Wait. Was this the Madeleine Cemetery that Jules had mentioned?
I let out a long exhale, and my breath came out in a tiny cloud of fog. I suddenly wished I was back at the hotel with the rest of our group. Anywhere, actually, but right there.
“Can we go sit down?” I asked, my voice rising.
Pilar shrugged and followed me toward a metal bench near the exit. “Do you think the lovebirds will be back soon?”
“What’s Hannah expecting from Armand?” I asked. “Does she think he’s really serious?”
“He seems pretty serious to me,” Pilar said. “And Hannah’s never been more serious about anything in her life.”
I didn’t want to come out and say that I thought Armand was just toying with her. “But we’re here for only a week.”
Peely shrugged. “Hannah could easily talk her parents into sending her to a boarding school in Paris.”
Hannah was one of the smartest people I knew. Would she really throw her life into total turmoil for a boy who’d whispered sweet nothings to her a few times?
“I’ve been meaning to tell you …” Pilar faltered. “I saw you and Armand the other night.”
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I said.
“Colette, I might be sort of dumb, but I’m not blind, okay? I can see what goes on in front of my face. And I’m just saying … be careful.”
I thought about telling her she wasn’t dumb, but that seemed beside the point. “I know. I’m not looking to make Hannah angry.”
Pilar’s eyebrows went up. “Angry wouldn’t even begin to cover it. If Hannah thinks you’re trying to move in on him,
you’ll
be the one looking for boarding schools five thousand miles away.”
The air was quiet around us, except for the sounds of cars driving by on the roads that bordered the park.
“Hannah’s my friend,” I said at last. “I would never do anything to hurt her. And I’m sure she feels the same way about me.”
Pilar tried to turn away before her face betrayed her thoughts, but I caught the way her lips flattened into a hard, doubtful line.
We both knew what she was thinking — that Hannah would hurt me in a heartbeat if it came down to it. Especially if it had anything to do with Armand.
After a little while, Hannah and Armand appeared. Their hands were clasped, and he looked smug. Hannah was practically skipping.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
We found a taxi stand, and Armand pointed out his apartment — it had windows looking over the park. When a cab stopped for us, Hannah and Pilar climbed in.
“Oh, Colette,” Armand said. “One moment,
s’il vous plaît
.”
We all stared at him.
“Come here,” he said.
I didn’t want to go, but it was like an order. I slowly walked over to him.
He smiled down at me.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I said, my voice low.
“Don’t worry about Hannah.” His white teeth looked almost blue in the cool light. “I spent a whole hour talking to her just so I could spend one minute with you.”
My heart was racing. “Why would you say that?” I asked, not daring to glance back at the taxi. “I don’t understand what you’re doing. Why do you think I’m special?”
Despite the cold, the gleam in his eye made me feel like I was on fire. “Because of Laclay.”
“Laclay?” I asked. “Who’s that?”
“Colette!”
Hannah’s voice was cold and rigid. “The meter’s running.”
I turned back to Armand. “I’m going now.”
“You and I will have a chance to talk soon.”
“I doubt it.” I said, already stressed about Hannah.
“Colette, we’re going to leave without you!” she snapped.
“You should go.” Armand reached over to straighten the collar of my jacket, and I yanked away.
His laugh roared behind me as I hurried to the waiting taxi and climbed in.
