Isla and the Happily Ever After (Anna and the French Kiss, #3)

by Stephanie Perkins

“It’s come to my attention that the situation in Lambert got a little out of hand last year. I am, of course, referring to the habit of opposite-sex students hanging out in each other’s rooms. As you know, we have a strict policy—”

ANNA AND ETIENNE LMAOOO

I want to weep with joy. He liked me, but he thought he couldn’t like me.

If only I could say, “Listen. I like you, and you like me, so let’s go find a secluded park and touch each other.”

“I don’t know.” I’m mystified. “I was alone in my room. And then he was there.”

Josh looks down at his sneakers, and then back up, and then back down. “You know that I like you. Right?”

“Whatever you suggest.” He grins. “I’ll say yes. You’ll definitely get a yes. If that helps.”

Maman once told me to place the boldest color where I want people to look.

“There,” he says. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” Not nearly as long as I’ve been waiting.

“He got a job.” Josh shakes his head. “He really got one.” He holds up the screen, and a snapshot of a guy with mussed hair and a polyester vest grins back at me. He’s giving the V sign, the English finger. It’s his best friend, Étienne St. Clair.

ETIENNEE AAAAA

“I wanted weird, but maybe it’s too weird?” “It doesn’t matter. I’m with you. I’m happy to be anywhere with you.”

“If you were my girl,” Josh says, pressing his nose against my ear. I turn my head, and the lights and the noise and the people disappear. The distance between us disappears.

“You know,” he says, “if you weren’t tiny, cute, and remarkably innocent looking, I’d be running away right now. This feels like the setup to some torture porn.”

“Wait here,” I whisper. “Are you getting your ax?” “Handcuffs.” “Kinky. But, okay, I’ll try it.”

“So tell me about him,” he says. “Tell me who I should be jealous of.”

ABDHDJAJSHDGDJJA

“Speaking of, how are St. Clair and Anna doing these days?” I ask. “Good.” He sits up straighter. “They’re pretty much living together now.”

“St. Clair and Anna are one of those couples that seem like they were made for each other,” he says. “Instant friendship, instant chemistry. He was obsessed with her from the moment they met. She was the only thing he ever wanted to talk about. Still is, actually.”

With a burst of energy, Josh scoops me over his shoulder and runs toward it. I scream with laughter. He shouts with mad glee. I pound on his back with my fists, but he doesn’t set me down until we’re through the gates and on the summit. He throws up his arms in triumph. “I win!” And then he buckles like a weak hinge. “I’m dying.”

“St. Clair can persuade anyone to do anything. He’s, like, drowning in charisma. It’s so unfair to the rest of us.”

“I want a lot more of these nights with you, Isla. I want all of my nights with you.”

Josh slipped the envelope inside his shoulder bag. It went on the plane with him.

Cute

He held my face with both hands. “I love you,” he said. “I love you. I love you.”

“Iloveyou!” I say. “I love you, too.” Josh laughs in surprise. “Thanks for the enthusiasm.” “I didn’t get to say it last time.” “Ah, well. From now on”—and I hear his smile grow into a dimple-bearing grin—“let’s start with it.”

St. Clair has a bushy-haired friend named Meredith, and Josh befriends her, too, and the three of them are uncannily reminiscent of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. St. Clair is the leader, Josh is the clown, and Meredith is the brainiac. But in this version, Hermione is clearly in love with Harry.

Forty-two missed calls. Three voice mails.

DAMN JOSH LMAO

Take a fucking risk. If you keep playing it safe, you’ll never know who you are. I know who you are, and I love who you are. Why don’t you trust me?

“For once in your life, listen to your younger sister. She’s taller, and she knows better than you.”

St. Clair is waving me down as Josh turns around in his chair.

“Étienne,” Josh says, and Meredith cracks up. “They’re teasing me because I’m the only person who calls him that,” Anna explains. “You’re the only person allowed to call him that,” Josh says. “You and his mom.”

St. Clair smiles. “The only two ladies I need.”

Her boyfriend is also beautiful, but he’s aware of it.

LMAO

“Aw, mate,” he says to Josh. “Admit it. You couldn’t resist me.” Josh relaxes into a smile. “You’re like a gorgeous little bonbon.” “Delicious in every way,” St. Clair says. Anna rolls her eyes. “Wait until you try his creamy center.”

“Étienne is five four,” Anna says. “With his boots.” “Without,” St. Clair protests. But his grin tells another story.

SHORT KING

“Confidence, darling.” He leans across the table and touches a finger to my cheek. “You could learn something from me, you know.”

He opens his mouth to reply, when St. Clair stands. “We’re off,” he says, meaning him and Anna and no one else. She looks as surprised as the rest of us.

“I’m taking my lady friend somewhere special for dessert.” “You are?” Anna says. “I am.”

I shake my head as Meredith looks between Josh and Cricket. “Didn’t you two just meet?” she asks. “How can you already have secrets?”

Several yards away—closer to the cathedral’s legendary carved doorways—Anna and St. Clair are standing on top of Point Zéro.

St. Clair removes something from his pocket. And then he gets down on one knee. Anna’s entire body lights with shock and joy and love. She nods a vigorous yes. St. Clair places the ring on her finger. He stands, she throws her arms around him, and they kiss. He spins her in a circle. They kiss again.

Anna shows off her ring. It’s small and simple and lovely. Her eyes suddenly shine, and she wheels around to face St. Clair. “So this is why you got a job.” He grins. “I wasn’t about to buy you a ring with my father’s money.”

“Don’t tell Anna, but I bought one for you, too,” St. Clair says.

“Attention, attention,” St. Clair says. “My fiancée and I—”

St. Clair clears his throat. “My fiancée and I are headed out for a celebratory dessert. I’d ask you all to join us, but I don’t want you there.”

“A blank canvas,” Josh continues, “has unlimited possibilities.”

I jump to my feet. “Oh, mon petit chou.” I pull out his arms from his snow-soaked coat. “I can’t believe you were waiting out there this whole time.” His teeth chatter. “I—I would have waited all night.”

It’s a drawing of us, in this café, in this moment. I smile up at him. “It’s beautiful. But what comes next?” “The best part.” And he pulls me back into his arms. “The happily ever after.”