"Yes, St. Claire. I like you. But I can't say it aloud, because he's my friend. And friends don't let other friends make drunken declarations and expect them to act upon them the next day"
"I mean, really. Who sends their kid to boarding school? It's so Hogwarts. Only mine doesn't have cute boy wizards or magic candy or flying lessons."
"Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?"
"Har. Bloody. Har."
"Soap?""School of America in Paris"he explains. "SOAP".Nice. My father sent me here to be cleansed."
"Closed. Plenty of time to see it later, remember?"He leads me into the courtyard, and I take the opportunity to admire his backside. Callipygian. There is something better than Notre-Dame."