A/N: I thought it would be interesting to explore this a little bit further, so I've made it a two-parter (for now at least). Enjoy!
Ellie stays the summer in Paris because she doesn't know where else to go.
She knows he's left and, in her weaker moments, she looks for him online. Even though she's blocked him, he still shows up on her friends' pages, usually at the side of a brunette with an odd stripe in her hair.
That must be her, she thinks. She examines her face, her features, and wonders what exactly made her more desirable than, well, herself.
She can't figure it out.
She tears up the sketches he made, the little notes he'd write. She deletes the dozens of photos on her phone, showing their past life in Paris, hoping it will all somehow help.
St. Clair might not have been her first boyfriend, but he was her first love. It hurts more deeply than she wants to admit, especially to her roommate, Caroline – her ex-boyfriend's biggest detractor.
Ellie distracts herself with new friends, new projects. She gives away her old clothes and uses her father's credit card for new ones. Her hair grows longer, fuller, and turns an almost shocking shade of red.
She tells the stylist no stripes.
She slowly starts to forget about him – about all of them. She becomes the life of every party, wine glass in one hand, a cigarette in another. She embraces her new independence, not having to answer to him about her supposed bad habits.
When the new school year starts, Marc-André seeks her out at an unofficial welcome back party. He's tall, lanky, and devoid of an English accent.
She may have turned him down before, but now, she finds him perfectly likeable.
They talk fast, fast, faster about everything, anything, catching up on the summer gone by. She forgets how funny he is, how natural and at ease he seems around her. She hasn't laughed this much in a long time.
When she asks if he wants to go back to her place later that night, he doesn't say no.
He holds her hand lightly and she leads them back to her place. She starts to feel butterflies in her stomach, but they aren't the ones reserved for first kisses or first loves. They are for new starts, new beginnings.
And while she knows it won't last forever – or even to next week, it doesn't matter anymore.
She knows she's going to be okay.