French kiss (10 page)

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alarm, "you're toast, Holly." She took a deep breath. "We all are."

Jess's ominous words rang in Holly's head all night and well into the morning. After Meghan and Jess headed off for practice, Holly, clammy-palmed, hurriedly changed into carpenter cords, a long-sleeved waffle shirt and her Kangol hoodie, holding her breath the whole time.

Then -- consulting the Fodor's guide to London her parents had given her before her trip she crept outside (everyone was at the track by then, so the coast was more than clear) and caught the commuter rail, which took her into London proper, and Waterloo station. There, Alexa had told her, Holly could catch the Eurostar train into Paris.

For a second, as Holly entered the enormous station, every single particle of her being screamed at her to turn around and go back to Wimbledon, like the sane, levelheaded, good girl she was. But whether it was her trouble with Tyler (who still hadn't called back, and thus had no clue about Paris) or the frustration she was feeling about her best friends (whom she was now indebted to for life), Holly was also sort of enjoying the thrill that came with breaking so many rules.

Holly Jacobson may have been a good girl, but she was always up for a challenge.

So, her ankle throbbing only slightly, she strode

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across the station and bought a round-trip ticket with her Amex. The charge on the credit card, Holly realized as she signed, would be yet another lie she'd have to cook up -- this time for her parents, when she was back home and the bill came. But it didn't matter: full steam ahead now.

In a daze, Holly boarded the train and sank into the first window seat she could find. When the fur-draped woman plunked down beside her -- after shrieking at the conductor because, apparently, she was supposed to be in first class -- Holly hardly glanced up. Her surreal, out-of-body sensation lasted during the aboveground ride through England, but when they entered the Chunnel, she started to seriously freak out about being on the lam.

Suddenly Holly's cell phone rang, jerking her out of her worries. She noticed that the train had come up out of the tunnel and was now speeding through coastal France.

Oh, no,
she thought, frantically pawing through her Vans tote for the ringing phone. What if it was Coach Graham calling? Or her parents?

Or ... Tyler?

Once again, the screen on her T-Mobile showed an unfamiliar series of digits after a plus sign.

"Who who is it?" Holly whispered into the phone, her entire body tensing up.

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"Breathe, Hoi," Alexa said, laughing. "Where are you?"

Relief flooded through Holly. "On the train to Paris," she whispered.

"Holly Rebecca Jacobson, you
rock!"
Alexa squealed, and Holly could hear the admiration in her voice. She felt herself start to relax; what she was doing was definitely crazy -- but maybe kind of cool, too.

That is, if she didn't get caught.

As the train hurtled on, Alexa filled Holly in on her status since last night; apparently, she'd finally reached her dad, who'd wired her money
and
put her in touch with her cousins, who had, thankfully, just returned from the long weekend with their parents. So Alexa was now staying with Pierre and Raphaëlle, as she'd planned to do anyway -- only now it was
sans
Diego.

"Do you still want me to come?" Holly asked, nibbling on her thumbnail. She was starting to worry that her risky rescue mission might now be semi-pointless.

"Of course I do!" Alexa groaned. "I'm completely traumatized from everything that happened, and my cousins are, like, never around. I need to see you, Hoi, so I can, I don't know, be
myself
again." She let out a long sigh.

Satisfied that she still had a purpose in Paris, Holly

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told Alexa that her train got in around three that afternoon, and they agreed that Alexa would meet her at the Gare du Nord.

Clicking off, Holly leaned back against her seat with a sigh. For the first time that day, she forgot her fears and felt a tingle of anticipation; she suspected that, in addition to helping Alexa, she might also have a pretty good time in Paris. She was closing her eyes she hadn't slept at all last night -- when the woman next to her tapped her shoulder.

"Excuse me," she said snidery. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Holly opened her eyes, seized by terror again. The woman
had
been watching her! Was she in cahoots with Coach Graham? "I - I don't think so," Holly stammered, trying to avoid her gaze.

"It's been bothering me the entire trip," the woman whined, toying with the flashy diamond choker around her neck. "I have an impeccable memory for faces, and I know I've seen yours before. Were you vacationing in Belize this past summer?"

Try sports camp in Massachusetts,
Holly wanted to reply, but she bit her tongue.

"Then you were skiing in Whistler this winter," the woman insisted.

Holly blinked at the woman and considered telling

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her that, despite the fact that she was Paris-bound, she wasn't at all accustomed to visiting glamorous locales.

"Or..." The woman went on, tapping a finger to her chin. "Have you ever spent time in South Beach, Miami?"

Except for that one.

Holly's stomach sank in recognition as she took in the woman's haughty face.
Oh... my... God,
she thought.
Its Henrietta von Malhoffer!

Holly and Alexa had encountered the formidable Henrietta von Malhoffer exactly a year ago, when they'd pretended to be guests at a ritzy South Beach hotel. Overhearing the wealthy woman's name and room number in the lobby, the girls had claimed she was their generous aunt in order to get served yummy drinks and nibbles -- but had run away before their cover was blown. Back then, Holly remembered, Henrietta had kept her silver mane hidden by a silk head wrap -- and apparently hadn't had as many Botox injections so she'd looked different.

But Holly
hadn't
changed all that much since last year -- which explained why the woman had been studying her so intently.

Holly shook her head. What were the chances? She only hoped that Henrietta wouldn't put two and

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two together and ID Holly as one of the girls who'd charged food to her hotel room.

"Nope," she lied. "I've never been to South Beach in my life." Turning back to the window, Holly tried her best not to burst out laughing. She couldn't wait to tell Alexa.

"Guess who was on my train!" Holly cried as soon as she spotted Alexa in the busy Gare du Nord. Alexa was pacing in front of a ticket window on her cork-wedge espadrilles, looking impatiently at her watch, but she glanced up at the sound of Holly's voice. Holly grinned, feeling a burst of fondness toward her old friend; after the harrowing journey, seeing her was an instant comfort.

"You made it!" Alexa exclaimed, dashing toward Holly. Alexa may have been comfortably ensconced at her cousins' place, but she was still shaky from her mugging, fuming over Diego, and
dying
to bitch and moan to her old friend. Watching Holly approach, a smile blooming on her freckled face, Alexa immediately felt her heart lighten. But she couldn't help choking up a little, too; Holly had traveled all this way for
her!

The girls reached each other, their arms outstretched, but in the moment before they embraced, there was a sudden awkwardness. After all, it wasn't like Alexa and Holly spent all their time in Oakridge

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hugging. They hadn't even really said good-bye before their respective trips abroad. Both girls had to admit that, despite their affection for each other, their friendship was still tinged with a bit of tension.

It was Alexa who dispelled any discomfort by throwing her arms around Holly. "Hoi, thank you, thank you,
thank you!"
she gushed, wondering how she could ever repay her friend for this major favor. "I hope the trip wasn't a
complete
pain in the ass," she added.

The girls hugged tight, Holly's duffel knocking against Alexa's leg and Alexa's wooden bangles getting tangled in Holly's hair. They giggled as they separated.

"Well, it definitely wasn't easy...." Holly began with a shrug.

"Wait, so
who
was on your train?" Alexa was asking at the exact same instant.

The girls broke into giggles again, and Holly thought about how acting silly with Alexa felt somehow acceptable -- as opposed to how immature she felt around Meghan and Jess's clowning.

Holly linked her arm through Alexa's as they began walking. "Henrietta von Malhoffer," she whispered, looking around to make sure the woman wasn't behind them.

Alexa's big blue eyes widened. "Get out!" she cried. "That bitch from the hotel last year?" As she and Holly

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started laughing, a wild thought occurred to Alexa. "Hoi, listen!" she exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the station. "I think it's a sign."

"A sign?" Holly asked. Alexa was forever thinking everything was a sign or an omen. Growing up, she'd been the one who believed in ghosts, and Holly had been the cynic who'd scoffed at their Ouija board games.

"Yes," Alexa said firmly. Now she knew for sure: Getting Holly to come to Paris had been the smartest thing she'd ever done. "The last time we saw her was in South Beach, right?" she explained. "So that means we're going to have just as much -- if not
more --
fun than we did
last
spring break." Alexa grinned, leading Holly in the direction of the Métro. "Hoi, it's official Paris is South Beach, part
deux!'

The girls took the Métro to Le Marais, rehashing Holly's great escape the whole ride. But when they emerged onto the sun-dappled street, Holly stopped her storytelling to gaze around in awe.
Whoa.
The red-and-gold Art Nouveau Métro sign, the elegant pedestrians trotting past, the corner violinist playing a version of "La Vie en Bose" ...
I
am in
Paris! she thought. All Holly knew of Paris she'd picked up from movies, books, or Alexa. It was breathtaking to see the

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mythical city brought to life, even more beautiful than she'd imagined it.

And then Holly wished that Tyler were there to share in the magic with her. He would lace his fingers through hers as they walked down one of the winding side streets and kiss her softly beneath one of the slender lampposts. Paris, Holly realized with a pang of sorrow, was best enjoyed with a boy.

But now that she was here, she still planned to have the time of her life --
without
Tyler Davis.

"Let's celebrate your arrival over drinks," Alexa declared, slipping an arm around Holly's waist. "We can drop your stuff at my cousins' later, but I thought you'd want to see the neighborhood first." Even though Holly was staring all starry-eyed at the streets of Le Marais, her touristy enthusiasm didn't irk Alexa as much as Diego's had. Maybe, in part, it was because Alexa had expected Diego to be as sophisticated as she was, but she knew that sheltered Holly couldn't help her naïveté.

The girls walked beneath the lovely stone arches of the place des Vosges and past a row of chichi art galleries until they arrived at a corner café that overlooked the trees and fountains of the Louis Treize park. The weather was unseasonably warm "Hoi, you brought the sunshine!" Alexa exclaimed as Holly

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wriggled out of her hoodie -- so the girls sat outside. A dark-eyed waiter materialized with a nod and a low
"Mesdemoiselles?"
leaving both girls momentarily tongue-tied. But Alexa quickly recovered and ordered two kirs, and then they leaned back in their straw chairs, soaking up the afternoon sun and grinning at each other.

"I'm just loving having you in Paris," Alexa said truthfully, giving her friend a grateful look across the small table. She noticed that while Holly also seemed psyched, a mysterious sadness darkened her gray-green eyes.
She's probably still stressed about ditching out on her team,
Alexa reasoned, lazily twining her hair up on her head.
A sparkling night on the town will perk her right up.
Alexa already had plans for the two of them -- along with her cousins to check out some sizzling discothèques that evening.

Meanwhile, Holly was studying Alexa, who, of course, looked stunning in a white wrap top, a necklace of chunky wooden beads, and a low-slung apple - red peasant skirt. Holly shook her head in wonder; only raging clothes horse Alexa would have most of her luggage stolen and still have the perfect trendy outfit to wear the next day. But despite Alexa's put-together exterior, Holly could sense that her normally composed friend was just a tad more vulnerable than usual.