Eternal

in Atlanta before I went to Paris.

“Well, my grandma’s coming up from New Orleans, and all the aunts and uncles and cousins too. It’s going to be a zoo. I won’t have any time to hang out with you guys while they’re here. Which is annoying, because it is our last weekend.”

“Yeah, but it’s not good-bye, remember? Just a week, and then we’ll be in England together.”

“I can’t wait,” Cece said. “I wish Aidan would let us all chip in on the house, though.”

I shook my head. “He says it’s taken care of. The Trust people know he’s a relative of the original family, so . . . I don’t know. Maybe they worked out a deal or something. I think we’re getting to use rooms that aren’t usually open to the public. Something like that.”

“That’s so cool. Just imagine if they knew the truth—the prodigal son, returned. A freaking century later. Anyway, what about Dr. Byrne?”

“What about him?” I asked.

“I assume he’s going with us, right?”

I nodded. “Looks that way. I’m sure Charlie is thrilled.”

“I actually feel kind of bad for her. I mean, it’s probably hard to understand this thing between you and Dr. Byrne if you’re not a part of it, you know? And then you’ve got to add in the fact that he’s a teacher and you’re a student and, well . . . it must be weird for her. That’s all I’m saying.”

“See, that’s why you’re so popular,” I said, shaking my head in amazement. “You can always see things from other people’s perspectives. What do they call it? Empathy?”

“Hey, you gotta feel for the chick,” she said with a shrug.

“Trust me, I do. I swear I do. It’s just . . . I think she really hates me.” I winced, remembering the cold look in her eyes when we’d met.

Cece gave me a pointed look—lips pursed, one brow raised. “Wouldn’t you hate you? In her position, I mean?”

“Heck, yeah. Of course I would. That doesn’t make it any more pleasant, though.” I glanced down at the notes surrounding me, a painful reminder of my upcoming final. “I really should be studying.”

She nodded, rising and reaching for her bag. “Okay, I’m supposed to meet Josh at the cafe, anyway. You want me to bring you back anything?”

“Yes, something sweet. That, and a mocha. Actually, make it a peppermint mocha.” The peppermint would help soothe my pretest nerves.

Cece’s face lit with a smile. “You got it, girlfriend.”

I sighed heavily as the door shut behind her. Just one more final—I could do this. After all, I was a tough, vampire-slaying, tattooed, going-off-to-live-in-Paris kind of girl. What was a measly English final in the face of all that?

With a groan, I got back to work.

* * *

Friday night came all too fast. The past few days had been a blur—checking grades, packing trunks, waiting for the end to come.

And now it had. I shifted uncomfortably on the hard pew, waiting for my name to be called.

Sophie’s valedictory speech had been brief but inspiring, the perfect combination of serious but funny. How was I going to make it through each day of class at AUP without her there beside me?

As student body president, Cece had made a speech too. All those New Orleans cousins and aunts and uncles had hooted and hollered when she was finished, making her blush, and all I could think was how awesome she was—the perfect roommate. Fate had been so kind to me.

And Aidan, well . . . when I’d seen him walk across the little stage erected at the front of the chapel and take his diploma from a smiling Mrs. Girard, it had seemed so real. Like somehow all the schooling he’d received before now was meaningless—that this graduation was the one that really counted, that marked the true beginning of the rest of his life.

The rest of them who’d been called up before me alphabetically—Max, Tyler, Cece, even Jack—seemed so distant now, somehow just out of reach. I felt numb, disengaged—

“Miss Violet McKenna.”

It took me a second to recognize my own name. Beside me, Shannon McKenzie nudged me in the ribs. I rose, making my way to the end of the pew vaguely aware of the sound of cheering and whistling behind me, where the parents and family were seated. I glanced back, surprised to see Patsy and Paul on their feet, smiling in my direction.

What the heck?

“Congratulations, cherie,” Mrs. Girard said, handing me my diploma with a smile. How easily she slipped into the role of cheerful headmistress, I realized, taking the leather case and tucking it beneath my arm as I made my way back to my seat.

The procession continued on—Joshua, then Marissa a few minutes later. I clapped for them all, trying not to notice the empty spot between the R?’s and the T?’s where Kate Spencer should have been. Finally, they called out Amy Zuckerman’s name, and then the microphone fell silent.

The chapel’s pipe organ began to play the alma mater, and at last we tossed our caps into the air with a flourish. And then it was over. High school was done, a chapter in my life complete.

Aidan found me even before I’d made my way out into the crowded aisle. “I didn’t think Patsy was coming,” he said, taking my hand.

“I didn’t either.” I shook my head, feeling a little dazed as I followed him out of the chapel and onto the lawn, where a brightly lit reception tent had been set up. The trees surrounding the lawn were strung with twinkle lights, and paper lanterns lit the path. The sky was clear, the air surprisingly balmy for early June in the Hudson Valley—a perfect night to celebrate under the stars.

“There she is!” came Patsy’s voice, just behind me. I turned to find her there, smiling broadly. “Look at you,” she said, wrapping me in a hug. “You look so grown up. Your father would be so proud of you right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said. “You said you weren’t coming.”

“I wasn’t sure we could make it, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed. And then when I found out we could come . . . well, I wanted to surprise you.” She held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

Immediately I noticed the gold band on her ring finger. “What? When?”

“This past weekend. Nothing big, just at City Hall. We’ll have a reception once we get to Sydney.”

“Wow,” was all I could manage.

“Congratulations,” Aidan said, mercifully stepping in and offering his hand. Patsy took it and then pulled him into an awkward hug. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Oh, Paul, this is Aidan Gray. Aidan, this is my husband, Paul Layton. My second husband. Current.” She was babbling incoherently now, obviously caught in the web of the Aidan Effect.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” I asked, trying to distract her. “I think they’re serving dessert.”

“Sounds good,” Paul said. “Lead on.”

Minutes later, we got our plates of cookies and assorted pastries and found a table, while Paul went off to fetch drinks.

Before I sat, I unzipped my lavender graduation gown and stepped out of it, revealing the simple white sundress I wore beneath. Aidan had already removed his own gown—silver for boys—and wore rumpled khakis and a plain white button-down shirt with a deep violet-colored tie.

“Don’t know how to work an iron, I see,” I quipped, reaching over to straighten his tie.

“Who has an iron at boarding school?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose.

I wasn’t going to admit that I did—it was just one of my many neuroses. Cece always teased me about it, especially the time she caught me ironing a stack of underwear.

“You’re not having anything, Aidan?” Patsy asked as soon as we sat, noticing the blank spot where his plate should be.