Ella hardly slept for the next two weeks.

They jetted from city to city, visiting a new one practically every night until the names became a blur: Los Angeles, Chicago, St. Louis, Arlington, Houston, Nashville, Detroit, Philadelphia, Washington, Foxborough and East Rutherford.

She spent most of her days touring around the city with Louise, stuffing their faces full of Cheez-Its and learning about American culture. Some days, that involved touring things like the Washington Memorial. Other days, that involved sneaking into bars to watch American baseball with pints of beer.

"After all," Louise said, "I love the Blue Jays, but the States do it better."

By some miracle, Margaux managed to keep Ella and Louise out of the papers, so they were free to roam around without fear of paparazzi. The only time that they ever had to worry was when Oliver joined them, which he did more and more frequently.

"I've never been to America," Oliver explained to them as they biked around Liberty State Park. "My Mum would kill me if I didn't send her any photos."

Ella noticed Oliver called his Mom a lot — usually at least once a day, when she and Louise phoned Ophelia and Sophia — and it endeared him to her a little.

If only she were that close with her parents.

Ella still called them once a week, mostly out of a perfunctory sense of duty; Rory never phoned their parents, so it was always up to her to keep in touch. They spent most of the phone call peppering Ella with questions about how Max and Rory were (fine) and if the fans were crazy (always) and how the new bassist was (hot).

Okay, Ella didn't say the last one.

But she was definitely thinking it.

Ella saw little of Max, but that was because she was doing her best to avoid him; Lexi seemed to think it was her sworn duty to cover as much of his surface area with her skin as possible, as if she was a bodyguard shielding him from incoming bullets.

Ella and Louise both got sick just thinking about it, but for very different reasons.

"I mean, he's my brother," Louise griped as they wiped a gloopy brown mask off their faces at a hotel in New Jersey. "It's sickening."

"I know," Ella said.

Louise wet the towel. "I can never look Lexi in the eye again."

"I hear you."

"And it must be even worse for you, since you're in love with him."

"Yeah, it's—" Ella broke off, swinging around to look at her. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Louise arched an eyebrow. "Well, you are, aren't you?"

Ella busied herself with the face towel, unable to meet Louise's eyes. Oh, god. She always suspected that Louise knew about her crush on Max, but to hear her say the words was like having an entire coffeemaker emptied into her bloodstream.

"It doesn't matter," Ella said, wringing the towel. "He's with Lexi."

Louise snorted. "That won't last."

"And then there's you. And Rory."

"Oh, we don't care," Louise said airily, and then paused. "Well, Rory might, actually. But we can deal with that later."

"And Max is..."

Ella trailed off, scrubbing at a bit of face mask under her chin. Louise arched an eyebrow.

"He's what?"

Ella bit her lip. She wished she could tell Louise about her fears. She wanted to tell her that she was terrified Max would spend his whole life chasing after different women; that since he had never fallen in love before, she was terrified that he was incapable of it.

But Louise was still his sister.

So instead Ella said, "He's far too tall."

Louise rolled her eyes. "Don't worry," she said. "We'll get you a foot stool."

On December 22, everyone flew out to New York. Well, most of them, anyways; to Ella's relief, Lexi flew back to Spain to visit her cousins for the holidays. Ella was more disappointed that Theo and Oliver left as well for a week, but she didn't begrudge them for wanting to spend time with their families over Christmas.

"I'll bring you back Percy Pigs," Oliver told her. "You'll love them."

"Is that some sort of bacon?"

"Oh, Ella." He grinned. "You have so much to learn."

Oliver kissed her on the cheek before he went, and Ella noticed Max was watching them, his expression unreadable. He only relaxed when Rory, Louise, Margaux and Ella were all on the plane, munching on gingerbread snaps, their plane speeding towards New York.

"So," Max said. "Who's up for exploring the city tonight?"

Ella eagerly gave her assent, echoed by Louise.

"I wish I could," Margaux said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I'm meeting a friend for a drink." Her eyes darted towards Rory. "You're welcome to join us once you're done sightseeing, though."

"Well, I can't go," Rory announced, stretching out his legs. "I have a date."

The plane exploded into action.

"You have a what?" Ella demanded, at the same time that Louise screeched, "Who is she?"

"I told you not to say anything, mate," Max sighed, and Ella whipped around to stare at him.

"You knew?"

"Only for a few days," Max said.

"And you didn't think to mention it?"

"I haven't seen much of you," Max said, so quietly that Ella almost missed it. The rest of the plane certainly did.

"You have a date," Margaux said hoarsely. "Rory, that's wonderful."

She didn't look like she thought it was wonderful. In fact, Margaux looked like she was two seconds away from opening the escape hatch and leaping out of the plane. Her hands were tightening convulsively on thin air, as if she was itching to clutch her clipboard for balance.

Rory noticed, too.

"Don't worry, Margaux," he said, grinning. "You don't need to pencil it into our schedule or anything."

Ella could have hit him.

Margaux gave a high laugh. "Funny."

"Do I know her?" Louise demanded, similarly oblivious to Margaux's inner turmoil. "Is she another back-up dancer?"

Oh, lord, Ella hoped not.

"No," Rory said smugly. "She's Vienna."

There was a long, drawn-out pause.

"Not, like, the Vienna we met though?" Ella asked hopefully. "Some other Vienna."

Rory stared at her. "Yes, of course it's the Vienna that you met. How many Viennas do you think I know?"

"Well, I just—"

"Oh, no," Louise moaned, abandoning all pretenses. "You're dating your opening act? Ror, she's awful. I caught her shouting at her manager the other day."

"She was probably having a bad day," Rory said.

"She called him a stupid chav," Louise said meaningfully. "And then fired him. I don't think it was just a bad day."

"Well, I like her," Rory said firmly. "So the rest of you will just have to deal with it."

And Rory slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms.

Mercifully, it wasn't a long plane ride to New York — only about 30 minutes — so they didn't have to stew in the awkward silence for long. Rory took a car straight to the hotel, claiming he needed to change before his date. Margaux hopped in a cab toward the city, her small, pale face downcast as she climbed into the vehicle.

Ella's heart twisted sympathetically.

Poor Margaux.

"Right," Max said, signalling for a second car. "Where to?" He breathed into his black gloves, his breath collecting in the frozen air. "The Empire State Building?"

"Actually," Louise said, "I don't feel very well."

"Wait, what?" Ella frowned at her, concerned. "Is it a headache?"

Louise shook her head. "My stomach. I think it was those gingerbread snaps."

"But we all ate those."

"Maybe it was the plane ride, then."

"Well, I'll come back to the hotel with you," Ella said, having visions of Louise clinging to the toilet bowl as she hocked up bits of cookie. "We can watch a movie instead. Max, you don't mind if we—?"

"No!" Louise said. "You and Max go sight-see. I'll be fine on my own."

And then, too late, Ella understood what she was doing. Louise wasn't sick, the little liar. She was probably on the way back to the hotel to order room service and marathon Queer Eye. Ella glared at her, and Louise smiled, the very picture of innocence.

"I'll be okay," Louise repeated. "You two have fun."

"Are you sure, Lou?" Max looked torn, his older brother instincts firing into overdrive. "What if you need to go to hospital?"

"I'll call you."

"Leave your ringer on," he instructed. "I'll check in."

And just like that, Louise was whisked back to the hotel in an awaiting cab, and Ella and Max were on their way into the city.

Ella shifted on the black leather seats, tapping out a rhythm on her thigh. Now that it was just the two of them, her mind had been wiped blank. What the hell did she and Max normally talk about when they were alone? Music? Their families? World peace?

Thankfully, Max took the lead.

"You don't need to worry about Rory, you know," Max said. "I don't think he's that serious about Vienna."

Ella almost laughed. Max thought she was worried about her brother going on a date right now. Her brother. The idea was ludicrous.

Still, she played along.

"I just wish he'd date someone nice," she said.

"Like who?"

Margaux.

"What about that tall back-up dancer?" Ella said, choosing at random. "Kelsey?"

"Kaley," Max corrected her. "Lexi doesn't like her."

That only strengthened Ella's resolve that Kaley was probably a very nice person.

"You must miss her," Ella said, with the same compulsive, masochistic tendency as a person picking at a scab to watch it bleed. "I'm surprised you didn't fly out to Spain with her."

Max frowned, as if the idea hadn't even occurred to him.

"I wanted to spend the holidays with you," Max admitted, and then added quickly, "All of you. Louise and Rory, too." His smile was a flash in the darkness. "It'll be like old times."

Ella's heart sank.

Old times. So that's what this was to Max. She knew it wasn't a date — Louise was planning to come, after all — but she didn't think they'd be reliving their childhood, either. On a whim, Ella leaned forward to the driver.

"Excuse me?" she asked. "Can you take us to Central Park instead?"

Max stared at her. "What are you—?"

"Central Park?" the driver called.

"Yes, please."

"Ella," Max said, sounding exasperated, "what are you doing?"

"We're going skating."

The shock on Max's face was so priceless that Ella laughed. She wasn't sure what he was most surprised by: the fact that she was taking the lead for once, or the fact that she was voluntarily going skating.

"But you hate skating," he told her.

"So?" She shrugged. "I'm trying something new."

"If you break your ankle, Rory will kill me."

She smiled cheekily. "You better not let me fall, then."

The skating rink was already rammed full of bodies. Christmas music blared out of speakers overhead, and cheerful red and green lights cast shadows on the white ice. Max pulled his toque further down over his face as Ella rented skates for them, but he didn't need to bother; nobody looked twice at them.

Ella smiled smugly as she passed him the skates.

"Lace up," she instructed.

He grinned. "How uncharacteristically bossy."

"I learn from the best."

"I assume you mean Louise."

"I mean you, you idiot." Ella nudged him with her shoulder. "Get a move on."

They slipped on to the ice. Ella stumbled, and Max reached out to grip her arm, steadying her. She could feel the warmth of his hand even through the black wool of her pea coat. She shivered slightly at the touch, and Max frowned.

"Here," he said, wrapping his scarf around her neck. "It's bloody freezing out here."

Ella decided not to correct him.

They swayed drunkenly around the ice for a few minutes before she started to get the hang of it. Max whooped encouragingly as Ella lengthened her strides, gliding around the rink.

Well, gliding was a bit strong.

But Ella was no longer stumbling, which she considered a personal success.

"I'm doing it!" Ella called, unable to stop grinning. "I'm actually doing it!"

She was sure that she looked a mess, with her blonde curls everywhere and her cheeks pinched red with cold, but she didn't care; she was so damn proud of herself for doing this. She was terrified of skating.

But Ella was doing it.

Right here, right now.

"Look at me go!" She cackled maniacally, executing what she was certain was a terrible twirl. "Do I look like Tessa Virtue?"

But Ella realized she didn't need to tell Max to look at her, because he was already staring at her with the oddest expression on his face, as if he had just realized something. Ella slowed down, unsure of herself.

She could always read Max's face.

"Max?" she asked uncertainly.

"Sorry." He shook his head, as if to clear it. "I was lost in thought."

"What about?"

"I was thinking..." Max hesitated, and then grinned. "I was just thinking that Canada will no longer have to deport you, now that you can skate."

At the time, Ella thought nothing of it. But later, as she was lying in bed, it occurred to her that Max's smile wasn't quite right. He wasn't telling her the truth.

It was the first time that Ella could remember Max lying to her.