"Paris was refreshing," she answered politely, wondering how long he wanted to torture her. Ed was never the type to converse with ex-girlfriends in deserted hallways. "But you know how I love New York." Rosalie deliberately ignored the comment about the party, choosing to let him think whatever he liked. She straightened a little, raised her chin to look at him directly, trying to ignore the frantic whispers in her head that kept reminding her that he had left her, that she hadn't been able to keep him, even at 18 and as a beautiful, Ivy-bound musician.