“Hi, Nick,” Dad said.
“Hi, Mr. Reeves,” Nick replied. “How was the hike across Paris?”
Earlier in the week, Dad had come home brandishing a worn, dog-eared copy ofParis…à Pied. The city had three urban hiking trails, so we’d decided to combine our first European hiking trip with exploring our new home and had spent the weekend hiking from the Bois de Boulogne through the city to the Bois de Vincennes. We’d never done an urban hike before. It was crowded and noisy, and it smelled like diesel smoke when a bus passed, but there were also oases of green calm and reminders everywhere that Paris has been a place people want to be since the third century BCE.
“It was fascinating.” He stuck his finger into the trail guide to mark his place. “We saw two thousand years of history in six miles; ate a three-course lunch that wasn’t sausage, cheese, and chocolate; and didn’t do any ascents. Did you know that Paris was originally a Roman city?”
Nick nodded. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
“Speaking of history,” I said, “after we stopped at the antiquarian booksellers by the Seine, I took Dad to Noor’s caricature stand, and we had her draw us.” I pointed to theportrait she’d done, which was lying on the coffee table so we could admire it. She’d exaggerated our boots and packs, but instead of making us comical, she’d made us look like superheroes starting off on a life-changing adventure. She’d drawn us at the top of Montmartre gazing out over the city. Dad carried the book he’d just bought. She’d softened the angular lines of his face, making him look uncharacteristically carefree. He stood a few steps behind me, like a guardian. I stood at the front edge of the path, all in oranges and reds, my hair blazing, radiating enough energy for a small sun and ready to step into the future. I loved how brave and strong I seemed.
“I’m getting it framed,” Dad told Nick. “It’s our first Paris souvenir.”
Nick smiled at me. “It looks like you’re setting out on an epic quest.”
“Right now, my epic quest is for ice cream,” I said, makingPlease let me goeyebrows at Dad.
Dad looked from me to Nick. “Okay,” he sighed, “but I’m counting on you to keep her safe, Nick.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious,” he said to me. “Be careful. Stay where it’s well lit. Don’t go off by yourselves, and be aware of what’s happening around you.”
“We’ll be careful,” Nick promised.
—
“Sorry aboutthat,” I said as we walked out into the warm evening.
“I get it.” Nick slipped his arm around me. “My parents won’t even let Sophie go down to get the mail alone.”
“But come on, Dad just told you to protect me. He’s never treated my being a girl like a preexisting condition before.”
“This guy only attacks women, so it makes sense for your dad to be more worried about you.”
“I know,” I growled. “But I get tired of everybody telling girls to be so scared of everything all the time that we stop living. ‘Don’t go there. Don’t do that.’ It’s a fundamental misunderstanding of who the problem actually is. Spoiler alert, it’s not girls.” That was another reason I’d pushed Dad on this. What happened the other day had scared me—because it was scary but also because I’d been so surprised that I hadn’t even tried to protect myself. If I hadn’t stumbled—Well. I wanted to go out tonight to show my fear it didn’t own me. I wanted to remind myself to be brave. I didn’t want to get into the habit of running away or hiding when things scared me.
“I know it feels bad,” Nick soothed, “but it’s to keep you safe.”
I sighed. He looked so worried. “I know. But this guy is locking us all up in Be Safe jail. The only way to really protect yourself is to never do anything—not even leave the house. Why do I have to give up basic freedom in exchange for staying safe? I mean, I can’t even fall asleep on a bus—”
I stopped, my heart revving.
“What bus?”
“Nothing,” I said, seeing Cole’s shadowy face for the zillionth time.
“Did something happen to you?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I just hate feeling caged. Look, Dad’s never even given me a curfew. He tells me all the time how strong I am. But tonight he wanted to lock meup because of what somebody else is doing.” The memory of Cole’s hand on me, the feeling of being trapped, almost drowned me. I was glad I’d never told Dad about it. “I’m being punished,” I went on, “and I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said. We walked on, passing tourists and normal neighborhood people. We all eyed each other, looking for indications of vampire proclivities. “I didn’t think about it that way. It sucks.”
“Indeed it does,” I said.
He hugged me closer, and I let myself relax into him. I liked that he listened to me. That he tried to see things from my point of view. I also liked that he was strong, and he would protect me. And I kind of hated myself that I did. “There’s this place,” he said slowly, “where I go when I need to really feel free. Maybe you’d like to go there; it might help.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Definitely. Where is it?”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“How come?”
