And I love Étienne.

I can’t face him again. How could I possibly face him again? I want to go back to Atlanta, I want my mom.The thought shames me. Eighteen-year-olds

shouldn’t need their mother. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here, but suddenly I’m aware of irritated sounds in the hal way. Someone bangs on the

door.

“God, are you gonna be in there all night?”

Amanda Spitterton-Watts. As if things could get any worse.

I check my reflection. My eyes look like I’ve mistaken cranberry juice for Visine, and my lips are swol en like wasp stings. I turn the faucet marked froid and splash cold water on my face. A scratchy paper towel to dry, and then I hide my face with my hand as I escape to my room.

“Hel o, bulimic,” Amanda says. “I heard you, you know.”

My back bristles. I turn, and her pale eyes widen in innocence over her beaky nose. Nicole is here, too, along with Rashmi’s sister Sanjita, and . . . Isla Martin, the petite, red-haired junior. Isla lags behind. She’s not a part of their crowd, just someone waiting in line for the bathroom.

“She was totally puking her dinner. Look at her face. She’s disgusting.”

Nicole sniggers. “Anna always looks disgusting.”

My face burns, but I don’t react because that’s what Nicole wants. I can’t, however, ignore her friend. “You didn’t hear anything, Amanda. I’m not

bulimic.”

“Did you just hear La Moufette cal me a liar?”

Sanjita raises a manicured hand. “I did.”

I want to smack Rashmi’s sister, but I turn around. Ignore them. Amanda clears her throat. “What’s this about you and St. Clair?”

I freeze.

“Because while you were puking, I heard Rashmi talking to the dyke through her door.”

I spin around. She did NOT just say that.

Her voice is like poisoned candy, sweet but deadly.“Something about the two of you hooking up, and now the big freaky dyke is crying her eyes out.”

My jaw drops. I’m speechless.

“It’s not like she ever stood a chance with him anyway,” Nicole says.

“I’m not sure why Anna here thinks she stood a chance with him either. Dave was right. You are a slut. You weren’t good enough for him, and you’re definitely not good enough for St. Clair.” Amanda flicks her hair. “He’s A-list.You’re D.”

I cannot even begin to process that information. My voice shakes. “Don’t you ever cal Meredith that again.”

“What, dyke? Meredith Chevalier is a big. Freaky. DYKE!”

I slam into her so hard that we burst through the bathroom door. Nicole is shouting and Sanjita is laughing and Isla is begging us to stop. People run

from their rooms, surrounding us, egging us on. And then someone tears me off of her.

“What the hel is going on here?” Nate says, holding me back. Something drips down my chin. I wipe it and discover it’s blood.

“Anna attacked Amanda!” Sanjita says.

Isla speaks up. “Amanda was goading her—”

“Amanda was defending herself!” Nicole says.

Amanda touches her nose and winces. “I think she broke it. Anna broke my nose.”

Did I do that? Tears sting my cheek. The blood must have been a scratch from one of Amanda’s fingernails.

“We’re all waiting, Mademoisel e Oliphant,” Nate says.

I shake my head as Amanda launches into a tirade of accusations. “Enough!” Nate says. She stops. We’ve never heard him raise his voice before.

“Anna, for goodness’ sake, what happened?”

“Amanda cal ed Mer—” I whisper.

He’s angry. “I can’t hear you.”

“Amanda cal ed—” But I cut myself off when I see Meredith’s blond curls hovering above everyone else in the crowd. I can’t say it. Not after everything

else I’ve done to her today. I look down at my hands and gulp. “I’m sorry.”

Nate sighs. “Al right, people.” He gestures to the crowd in the hal . “Show’s over, back to your rooms. You three.” Nate points at me and Amanda and

Nicole. “Stay.”

No one moves.

“Get back to your rooms!”

Sanjita makes a hasty exit down the stairs and everyone else scrambles away. It’s just Nate and the three of us. And Isla. “Isla, go back to your room,”

he says.

“But I was here.” Her soft voice grows braver. “I saw it happen.”

“Fine. all four of you, to the head’s office.”

“What about a doctor?” Nicole whines. “She total y broke Amanda’s nose.”

Nate leans over and inspects Amanda. “It’s not broken,” he says at last.

I exhale in relief.

“Are you sure?” Nicole asks. “I total y think she should go to a doctor.”

“Mademoisel e, please refrain from speech until we get to the head’s office.”

Nicole shuts her mouth.

I can’t believe it. I’ve never been sent to the principal’s office! My principal at Clairemont High didn’t even know my name. Amanda limps forward into

the elevator, and I trudge behind with increasing dread. The moment Nate turns his back to us, she straightens up, narrows her eyes, and mouths this:

You’re going down. Bitch.

Chapter forty

The head gave me detention.

ME. DETENTION.

Amanda was given one weekend, but I have detention after school for the next two weeks. “I’m disappointed in you, Anna,” the head said, massaging

the tension from her bal erina neck. “What will your father say?”

My dad? Who cares about my dad? What will Mom say? She’l kil me. She’l be so angry that she’l leave me here, imprisoned in France forever. I’l end up like one of those bums near the River Seine who smel like underarms and cabbage. I’l have to boil my own shoes for food like Charlie Chaplin in

The Gold Rush. My life is RUINED.

The detention was divided unfairly because I refused to tell her what Amanda said. Because I hate that word. Like being g*y is something to be

ashamed of. Like because Mer likes sports, it automatical y makes her a lesbian. The insult doesn’t even make sense. If Meredith were g*y, why would