Young lovahs in Paree!

Just read Anna and the French Kiss, which I found on NPR's list of the best teen fiction of 2010.

Ignore, if you can, the silly title. Instead, jump right in and meet 17-year-old Anna, who's sent to boarding school in Paris to complete her final year of high school, for reasons she doesn't fully understand but seem to stem from her divorced father's desire to brag about having a daughter in a French boarding school. (Her father, a thinly-veiled Nicholas Sparks send-up, writes tragic romances that middle-aged ladies love, but Anna disdains.) Within her first week at SOAP (the School of Americans in Paris), Anna manages to catch the attention of the hottest, cutest, guy at the school (who happens to have grown up in London, probably so the author can pepper his speech with British-isms like bloody, bugger, and, my personal favorite, pants, and so Anna can gush about his accent), and she's run afoul of the beautiful-but-mean-spirited popular girls. I know, I know, stop me if you've heard this one before. But what made this book different was the honest, believable friendship that develops between Anna and her guy, even as the sparks begin to fly.

Anna finds herself attracted to French-American hero Etienne St. Clair, mais quel horreur (*snicker*)! Etienne has a girlfriend, a college girlfriend no less, and their penchant for PDA is a favorite topic of lunch table conversation. He and his girlfriend are fighting, though, and it seems that Etienne's feelings for Anna go far beyond even the deep friendship that quickly develops between them. Still, Anna clings to her old friends, her old crush, her old life back in Georgia in a vain attempt to stop herself from falling for Etienne and risking the friendship that's become precious to her.

Although the entire book was well-written, certain scenes were exceptionally realistic and touching. Anna returns home to Atlanta for Christmas break, only to find that the home she resisted leaving doesn't feel like home anymore. Her old friends and even her family have forged new ties in her absence, and she finds herself on the phone with St. Clair for hours each day, homesick for him, because she realizes that he has become home to her. "Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?", she wonders.

And when Etienne, dealing with the upheaval caused by his mother's cancer diagnosis and his controlling father's plans for Etienne's future, begs Anna to understand that he can't break up with his girlfriend because he "doesn't want to be alone," one can't help but realize how much it costs Anna to stand up for herself and retort "You weren't alone, asshole."

Perhaps the most lovable character in the book, though, is the city itself --  its neighborhoods, its quirky locals, its tourist traps and patisseries. Anna's changing relationship with the city reflects her growing confidence and maturity. It's a journey from the initial fear that kept her from venturing beyond the boundaries of the campus, to the romantic climax of the novel where Anna finds herself at the pinnacle of Notre Dame, the city of Paris literally at her feet and the boy she loves finally in her arms.

I don't generally like YA. The never-ending ping-pong match of poor timing and missed connections, the constant sturm und drang, and the OMIGOD drama exhaust my poor middle-aged brain. This book was such a pleasant surprise -- emotional without being sappy, sweet without being trite, predictable without feeling too contrived.

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