I HAD A massive headache the next morning, but an ibuprofen and a quick shower helped me feel better. When I went to gather my music, I was surprised to find a note from my father.

Practice for as long as you want.

It was what I wanted, yet his words from the night before still hurt. I stuffed the music and my laptop into my bag, then picked up the key Mathieu had given me.

The key to my heart.

Mathieu had been right. I had my music. I didn’t need my father’s approval. But as I walked to Mathieu’s apartment half an hour earlier than usual, I realized something else was more important right now. I needed to go home to Charleston. Jenna was lying in a hospital bed on the other side of the world, and she needed me.

I sent Dad a text saying I needed to go home to Jenna, and he texted back to say we’d talk about it later that night. Ten hours wasn’t going to make a difference. Mom and her boyfriend were on a weekend ocean cruise and inaccessible until Sunday night. There was no way Dad would let me go home to an empty house.

In the meantime, I planned to play my heart out on the piano.

I worried I might have problems getting inside the building, but all the doors opened without a hitch. I felt like a trespasser going into the empty apartment, but I sat down at the piano and began to play straightaway.

I was lost in the music, as always, but forced myself to concentrate on the technical side of the sonata. Anything less than perfection would be unacceptable if I wanted to succeed.

If I was even still here to audition.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been playing when my phone rang, but I was in the middle of my Rachmaninoff piece. My stomach clenched when I saw it was Jenna’s mother’s phone.

“Mrs. D, how is she?”

“It’s me,” Jenna said, her voice sounding weak and far away.

“Oh! Jenna! Are you okay?” I shook my head. “Of course you’re not okay. How are you?” I stood and began to pace.

“Calm down, Soph. Breathe.”

“How can I calm down when you almost died?”

“I didn’t almost die . . . Mom, stop. She’s already freaked out. Okay, I get it,” she said, sounding frustrated. She sounded loopy too, and I wondered how much pain medication she was hopped up on. “Everyone’s freaking out about how I almost died, but how do you think I feel? No more talk about me almost dying, got it?”

“Got it,” I said, and Jenna’s mother’s answer echoed mine on the other end of the line.

“I’m calling to let you know I’m okay, although I hear I look like a patchwork quilt, which totally sucks since I got this really cute bikini on sale last week . . . Yes, Mom, it covers my butt . . . Mom! I almost died. I think saying the word butt is the least of my worries. Especially since I’ll never wear it or any other bikini again.”

“Why? Because of your scar?” I asked. “It’s a war wound. Wear it proudly.”

“Yeah,” she said, but her voice was weaker.

“You need some rest, Jenna. Why don’t you call me later, and you can tell me about all of the cute doctors in the hospital.”

“I have to tell you something first.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think I can come on Sunday.”

My heart sank. I had guessed as much, of course. “I had a feeling you might have to cancel. I think they frown on bringing IV poles on planes. It’s hard to get them through the metal detectors in security. Which is why I think I should come home.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you need me.”

“But what about the cute French boy? What about your audition?”

“Who cares about the audition? Who would want to go to school with a bunch of fussy French people?”

“You,” she said softly. “Music is your dream.”

Oh, she knew me so well. “Jenna, I can’t stay here knowing you’re in a hospital bed, hooked up to all kinds of tubes and wires, coming in and out of consciousness with no one there to give you a fair and accurate assessment of the hotness of all the doctors, interns, male nurses, and other hospital personnel that come in and out of your room.”

“Ow!” she shouted. “Stop making me laugh. It hurts. And like you would ever do such a thing. That’s what I would do.”

“Exactly. So being a good friend, I need to cover for you.”

“You can’t come home, Soph. You have to stay there and audition. You have to stay with your cute French boy and fall in love and one day make beautiful French-American babies.”

A big part of me hoped to do exactly that. But I couldn’t. “You need me, Jen.”

“Please, please, please don’t come home for me. I want you to stay. Especially since I can’t come on Sunday. If you get into your fancy school, then I can come and stay the entire summer next year and find my own French boy.”

“Jenna . . .”

“Stay where you are for now, Sophie. We’ll talk about this later when my head’s not so fuzzy.”

The front door to the apartment opened, and Mathieu walked in, worry on his face.

“Get some rest and get well, okay? We’ll go shopping for some midriff tops to show off your scars.”

“Only if you get one too . . .” Her voice drifted off.

Mathieu walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my front, pulling me against his chest.

“Jenna?” I asked after a couple of seconds.

“She fell asleep,” her mother said in a hushed tone. “She insisted on calling you even though she’s as high as a kite on drugs. But I thought you’d like to hear her voice and know she’s really okay.” Her voice broke.

“She really did almost die, didn’t she?” I asked, my tears returning.

“Let’s just say it was very close.” She promised to keep me updated and then hung up.

I snuggled my head against Mathieu’s chest. His arms cinched tighter around my waist.

“I heard about your friend.”

I craned my neck to look back at him. “How did you find out?”

“Thomas. Since Jenna can’t come, Camille wants Dane to stay.”

“What? No!” I spun around to face him. “He has to go home.”

He studied me. “Why?”

“Because he’s the world’s biggest jerk and I want him gone.”

He brushed several strands of hair from my forehead. “Then you better talk to your father, because Camille is pressuring her mother, and I think she’s winning.”

Something on his face caught my attention. “You want him gone too.”

“Yes. I don’t like how he looks at you.”

I leaned back. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you not see it? When you walked out last night, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. And it wasn’t the first time.”

I shuddered. “All the more reason for him to go. Camille will flip her lid if she sees him doing that. I’m already on her bad side.”

He glanced at the music spread all over the piano and my laptop arranged on a chair I’d pulled over from the kitchen. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I didn’t think I’d get to see you.”

“Why? What time is it?”

“It’s after four.”

“It’s that late?” But I guessed it didn’t matter now that Dad had lifted my practice restrictions. Besides, I needed all the practice time I could get. “I better go. I haven’t even had lunch.”

“Gather your things, and I’ll walk you home. And I’ll get you something to eat. I can’t let you starve.”

As we walked back to my apartment, Mathieu told me about his day, tutoring some younger kids with math and reading, then helping to paint a classroom. We stopped for savory crêpes and finished eating them by the time we got to my apartment.

“Would you like to come up?” I asked. “Now that we are out in the open? Or would it be too awkward for you with Camille?”

He paused to consider it, then shook his head. “My friends are going to hang out by the river tonight. We could go with them.”

“Okay. Sure.” According to him, this was how teens dated here, and besides, I wanted to get to know his friends. It would be especially important if I ended up moving here. And I had to make sure there wouldn’t be any awkwardness with Thomas since he was Mathieu’s best friend.

“I know Camille and Dane are coming, but I can pick you up and take you with me.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

He gave me a soft kiss, then smiled. “See you tonight.”

Camille and the boys were in the living room when I walked in. They gave me a cursory glance before returning to their game. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and looked up to see Camille in the doorway.

“I heard your friend is going to be okay. That’s good.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I took a drink, keeping an eye on her. Camille was trying her best to look sympathetic, but she had a wary look in her eyes.

“Since she can’t come, that means Dane can stay.”

And there it was. I was thankful that Mathieu had warned me.

I shrugged.

“His parents said he could stay and my mother says he can stay. It’s your father who’s saying no.”

“That’s too bad. I hope it works out for you.” I started for the door, but she blocked my exit.

“You need to convince your father to let him stay.”

“Me? Why don’t you ask Eric?”

“He says he already tried.”

That sounded like a lie. He hadn’t come out and said it, but I was sure he was counting the hours until Dane got on the plane tomorrow. “Well, if Eric couldn’t convince him . . .”

“You can.”

I shook my head. “Why do you think I can?”

“Because you have your father under your spell. He’ll do whatever you want.”

I released a harsh laugh. “Have you seen my father and me? We may have been like that once, but not anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed with hate. “Do you know how lucky you are? You should be grateful you have a father. Mine is gone.”

My resolve to defy her weakened, but then again, that’s probably exactly what she wanted. Mathieu said she loved to play games. That’s exactly what she was doing now. “I’ll talk to him, but I can’t promise anything.”

I tried to move around her, but she continued to block my path.

“What do you want, Camille?”

“Either convince your father to let him stay or I’ll tell my mother Mathieu’s secret.” Then she sneered. “Did he tell you what he did?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, I know he broke Hugo’s nose after he found you in bed together in your room. Maybe I should tell your mother that.”

She shrugged, but her face paled. “Go ahead.”

“Call it a draw and let it go, Camille.”

Her expression told me that my wording confused her, which only pissed me off more. “I have something to use against you. You have something to use against Mathieu. No one wins. Let it go.”

“I can destroy Mathieu. He did something far worse than break Hugo’s nose.”

I had no doubt she could. And would. “I know he altered school records. I know it could destroy the career he wants more than anything. For what? Why would you hurt someone like that? No, let’s back up. Why did you hurt him by intentionally sleeping with the one guy who made his life horrible?” I shook my head. “Never mind. You probably did it just because you could. You are truly a despicable human being.”

I knew part of what I said was lost on her.

“You’re wrong about one thing,” she said with a hard edge in her voice. “His career isn’t the thing he wants more than anything right now.” A smile lifted her lips. “Are you willing to let him throw away his precious future for you?”

I hated her. Truly hated her in that moment.

“You have until Dane is about to get on the plane tomorrow to change your father’s mind, or I’m telling my mother everything.”

“You do that, and I’m telling her everything too. And I mean everything—leaving me at the Metro, convincing your friends to be mean to me. As sweet as Eva is, I’m sure she’ll have a thing or two to say about that.”

Camille lifted her shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Mathieu has much more to lose than I do.” Then she turned and walked out of the kitchen.

I was in a whole lot of trouble.

I really wished Mom wasn’t on her cruise. I needed someone to talk to about this, and Jenna wasn’t available. Of course, if Jenna had been available, I wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

In the end, it didn’t matter if I had someone to talk to or not. I couldn’t let Camille destroy Mathieu.

My stomach was such a mess of nerves that I could barely take a bite of my slice of takeout pizza at dinner. Camille lifted her eyebrows and leaned her head toward my father.

I took a deep breath, then turned to my dad. “Since Jenna can’t come, why don’t we let Dane stay?”

Eric’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Dad gave me a look that said don’t press it. Too bad I had no choice.

“I mean, we were going to have Jenna here, so it’s just another body.” I hoped both Dane and Camille got the full impact of that insult, but it would probably go over their heads. “Camille has gotten so close to Dane that it’s the least we can do to let them stay together for a few more weeks.”

Dad gave me a strange look. “And let me guess . . . you want his ticket home so you can go home?”

“What?” I’d nearly forgotten about our text conversation from this morning. “No. I talked to Jenna this morning, and she wants me to stay and audition.”

Dad gave Eva a look, but she shook her head. “Not now, William.”

“Look, I know you don’t want me to audition, and that’s a conversation for another time. Right now we need to talk about Dane. I really want him to stay.” I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from taking it back. “And Jenna does too. She wants me to take lots of photos of Camille and Dane in Paris. I don’t have any.”

“Sophie.” My dad was using his irritated tone, which meant I was pushing him to the limit. He wasn’t budging.

Camille’s expression turned ugly.

The food in my stomach churned and a cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. I couldn’t fail Mathieu. I had to pull out the big guns.

I started to cry.

It wasn’t hard to muster the tears. All I had to do was think about what was at stake. “Daddy, please. I’m so upset about Jenna, and Dane has been so awesome today. If my friend can’t join us, I’d like to have another familiar face around. It’s comforting.”

God love him, Dad looked like he was softening. My stomach was rebelling over the blatant, disgusting lie, and I swallowed the bile in the back of my throat.

Eric looked at me like I’d totally lost my mind.

And Dane . . . Dane looked at me like I was a big bucket of fried chicken at a church picnic.

Now I started to cry for real, fat tears that fell down my cheeks. I didn’t want that jerk to stay. I didn’t want him to be anywhere near me, either here or back home, and yet Camille had put me in this terrible position.

“Okay . . .” Dad shook his head, then looked at Dane. “But you better go call your parents right now to get the ticket changed.”

Dane jumped out of his seat and left the table with Camille, but not before he gave me an appraising look.

Eric continued to stare at me, so I gave him a slight shake of my head.

Eva and Dad were subdued for the rest of the meal, and I barely ate my food, still nauseated from my performance. Dane’s newfound appreciation meant I was going to have to be careful around him.

I planned to stay far, far away.