by Zelda French
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE TEST THAT WENT DOWN IN HISTORY
ON MONDAY MORNING, everyone shows up for English Lit as usual, and for the first time in my life, I’m early, waiting at the front gate, hidden behind my sunglasses and checking my phone repeatedly, three sticks of gum in my mouth, chewing madly, pretending not to wait for Sacha to arrive.
Tony and Lucie arrive together, in great mood. Her is a little bee, as venomous as it is adorable. From the smile on my girlfriend’s face, whatever Sacha saw, she didn’t say anything yet. If I can get to her first, find out what she knows, I might be able to make the whole thing go.
Tony sees me and does a double-take. Lucie’s jaw drops open.
“Shit Lou, are you early?” Tony starts patting me all over, to check from open wounds. “What the fuck!”
“Well, surprise!”
When Sacha arrives, pigtails and pink jumpsuit and all, as bubbly as ever, it takes every effort not to pounce on her under Tony and Lucie’s nose. I let them walk ahead of our class toward the classroom, and deliberately hang behind to fall in with Sacha. Unfortunately, she’s not alone. François and his long nose are glued to her side, and Yasmine is only a breath behind.
“Hi Sacha.”
“LouLou!” Her face brightens up. “How are you, baby?”
“Nothing.” I realise with horror I’m getting used to her silly nickname. “It’s, hem… You look nice today.”
I wish I hadn’t said that. François, glaring, deliberately inserts himself between us, using his large coffee tumblr. I ignore him.
“Thanks. Oh wait! That reminds me!” She clutches her chest. “Do you know what I saw this weekend?”
My heart stops; the gigantic ball of gum I’ve been chewing gets stuck to my palate.
“One of your crazy bands was on MTV Pulse!”
Relief submerges me like a tidal wave. I lose balance, and have to hold on to François’s sleeve to stay on my feet. He squeals in protest —or pain, hard to know— but never mind him.
Sacha hasn’t seen us. She hasn’t seen us, or she has seen us but never registered it.
“Which one?” I ask, feigning interest.
“I don’t know. It was horrible, I changed the channel.”
Relief, sweet relief. I was so certain she had seen us. In fact, I thought it impossible that she didn’t. And I thought of little else during the weekend. As we approach the classroom, I notice nobody’s entering.
“What’s going on?”
Tony, followed closely by Lucie, elbows his way past the crowd to join us. Sacha doesn’t register the nasty look he throws her, but I do.
“So, I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“Let me guess,” François says. “You’re the bad news.”
Yasmine, without looking up from her phone, gives a dry chuckle. Tony ignores them both.
“The good news is Paquin still has the flu. Or she was arrested for witchcraft. We’ll never know. But English Lit is canceled.”
“Oh, no.” Michael says.
I hadn’t noticed he was behind me. The sounds of his voice, so close to my ear, makes me melt. I’m immediately transported to Saturday and our kiss at the museum. Then I’m reminded of how silent we both were one the way back home.
When he tip of his fingers graze my own behind everyone’s back, I shiver, earning myself a glare from François.
“The bad news,” Tony says, enjoying the attention everyone is giving him, “is that Racine, on the other end, is fit as a fiddle. The History test is still on.”
Everyone starts groaning. I start laughing.
“The what now?”
The groaning dies when every head turns to me.
“The History test.” Lucie’s eyes narrow. “You know, the one you said you would stay a home to study.”
“Oh, that one.”
I had no idea about a test, none so ever. I told Lucie I needed to study, I didn’t say anything about History. When did he announce it? On Thursday? I’m usually so attentive these days. But Thursday was the day I didn’t take any notes at all, but spent my time gazing dreamily out the window and staring at Michael’s back wondering if I’ll ever feel the plump cushion of his lips against mine.
Probably Thursday, then. That explains why Michael said he wouldn’t go out yesterday, and told me I should stay home and study, but I didn’t. I went to Tony’s at his request and we worked on our essay for less than an hour. Then we played Silent Hill Origins in semi-darkness, which provided an excellent cover for my growing anxiety at the thought of Sacha texting Lucie about what she saw.
Now I must find a way to revise the test without anyone knowing, and I’ve only got two hours to do this.
Meanwhile, the class organises itself to spend time outside in the park and enjoy the beautiful weather. It’s decided before I can even chime in. To my horror, it’s decided that Golden Fork and Tony, Lucie and I hand together for the first time in history. Two hours of constant contact between Lucie, Sacha, Michael and I, where at any moment, Sacha can recall our time at the museum. But if I refuse to vehemently to accompany them, I might make matters worse. So I’ve got no other choice but to follow them toward the Luxembourg Gardens, my sweaty palms hidden in my pockets.
Logically, I dump my ass near Sacha to keep an eye on her, should she put two and two together. It’s a struggle as François also wants to sit next to her, so I have to glare at him to go on the other side.
“What are you doing?” Lucie asks, standing over me.
“I don’t know, sitting down?”
“Then I’ll sit too.”
She sits next to me, Tony next to her, and when Michael arrives with Yasmine, they close our happy little circle. I put out my phone. 1h40 left before the test. Why do people walk so slowly in groups!
Despair will make you attempt the craziest things. That’s how I clear my throat and ask: “Should we study together?”
François snorts into his tumblr, spraying coffee everywhere. Michael uncharacteristically bursts out laughing.
Tony stretches his long arm behind Lucie’s back to punch me in the shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I just want to study.”
Deploying my history book and my notes under people’s shocked gaze, I stick firmly the book between my knees for support. The goal is to absorb as much information as I can in a very short amount of time. It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible. That’s how I pass every Spanish test, and I can’t speak two words of the language.
Four minutes into my challenge, Lucie nudges me in the ribs.
“What’s going on?” Her voice is soft, and gives me no cause for concern at first.
“Nothing. I told you. I just want to practice before the test.”
“Come on. You never do that.”
“I’ve got to keep up my grades if I want to go to London.”
My heart races as Sacha launches herself into an explanation of her afternoon at the museum. My eyes meet Michael on the opposite side of our circle. He doesn’t seem concerned at all about Sacha’s story. The fiend is absently staring at my girlfriend’s cleavage. Is it by accident, or is it not? I’m not the only one who notices. Sacha does not miss it either.
“Mikey, you’re such a perv’!”
Michael snaps out of it, and seeing us all staring at him, turns a deep shade a red.
Accompanied by an expect batting of her eyelashes, Sacha cocks her head.
“If you want to stare at breasts, stare at mine!”
“Sorry,” Michael splutters. “I didn’t mean to…”
Lucie glares at Sacha. Yasmine, bored out of her mind, lays on her back to get a semblance of a tan. François remains very still, stealing glances at Michael, who looks like he wants to disappear into the ground.
Lucie seems more amused than angry. “That’s fine,” she tells Michael. “Don’t worry about it.”
Tony seems more angry than amused. He scoffs loudly enough to Michael to hear and Ya
smine to slip a curious glance at him.
“So, anyway,” Sacha says to François, the only one who seems to listen, “My aunt and uncle were going to let me use their flat in Barcelona—”
A discreet sigh of respite passes my lips. She’s forgotten all about the museum. With a deep sense of relief, I adjust my sunglasses and resume poring over my notes.
Test in 1h30 minutes. 20 minutes to go there, by my calculations on how slow these people are. I’ve got 1h10 minutes to learn myself some WWII business.
Everybody converses more and less quietly over the next ten minutes. Behind my sunglasses I see all, but no one can see me. While Sacha is blabbering on, François’s forlorn eyes never miss Michael, who like Yasmine, has decided to lay down to stare at the cloudless sky. Once in a while, Yasmine grunts some sort of answer which gets Sacha going again.
Lucie interrupts my study again, her eyebrows drawn together. “Why on earth did you follow them here? Have you lost your mind?”
I don’t know what she’s saying. I didn’t organise this. But my answer in form of a shrug doesn’t impress her. She elbows me in the ribs and hisses in my ear.
“I’m talking to you.”
I look up from my notes. “I didn’t decide to come here. I thought you did.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, I’m serious. I didn’t plan to come here. Why would I?”
Why indeed would I allow Lucie and Sacha to spend the whole morning together when it could cost me everything?
Lucie starts plucking blades of grass, a scowl on her face. I plunge back into my notes.
Tanks, so many tanks. So many generals. I’ll never remember any of their names. This is so frustrating. I’ve paid attention in class every time since the beginning of the year, and I still can remember nothing.
Lucie looking over my shoulder certainly doesn’t help.
“Has Tony said anything about the Shark, by the way?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So… sure, let’s go there.”
Lucie harrumphs and pulls a full handle of grass from the ground. Michael is still laying on his back under François watchful gaze. He looks so quiet. I wish I could just throw my notes over my shoulders, get up, lay down next to him and tell everyone else to shut the hell up. Then I feel a sharp pang of guilt at my own selfishness.
Lucie’s pulling so much grass out now that I start to worry we’re going to get fined for vandalising the Gardens.
“Lucie, stop!” I seize her hand. “What are you doing?”
Her nostrils flaring, she pulls her hand free.
“What am I doing? I’m trying to do something nice for you, and you’re completely ignoring me.”
Lucie is so beautiful, even when her face is twisted in anger, like right now. My pulse always quickens just at the sight of her. But is it from love, or apprehension? She has always frightened me a little. But these past weeks, it has began to get out of control.
“Lucie… I’m just trying to study.”
“And?” She grimaced. “I’ve been trying to organise your birthday party—”
“A birthday party?” Sacha says. “When?”
Lucie holds up her hand, to silence Sacha. “— For weeks, and you never seem to give two shits about it.” She peers into my face, her eyes blazing. “Tell me once and for all, Lou. “What is your fucking problem?”
Lucie’s angry voice rose above all else. Yasmine sits bolt upright. Michael too rises up on his elbow. Sacha lets out a scoff of disbelief. François forgets all about him and watches Lucie’s face, his mouth agape. Tony alone stares sadly between his legs.
What’s my problem… I have so many problems.
Voicing them out loud, today, in public, would create such an earthquake that most of us would never recover from. Everyone here, with the exception of hot stuff over there, is constantly getting on my nerves, asking me to like things, say things, be things, I don’t think I want to say or do or be anymore. And everyone here is just waiting for me to mess up once so they can justify their own bullshit and leave me without a look back.
My problem is, sometimes… you.
“My problem?” Lucie’s face whitens at the angry tone of my voice. “My problem is that I told you a million times I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday. But no, you wanted to do something. So I agreed to spend the night with you and Tony. Do something small, maybe watch a movie. And now we’re booking the basement of a bar and inviting the whole class?”
Lucie stares blankly into my face. “You’re never happy. I really don’t know why I—”
“Why you what?” I dare her. “Say it.”
Everyone is holding their breath. François’s jaw is completely slack. Sacha is gripping his arm, her hand over her mouth. Michael has sit upright, but he’s staring at the ground.
Lucie jerks her chin up. “I really don’t know why I bother with you.”
Tony’s expressions screams at me not to do anything stupid. It’s too late. I’ve done plenty of stupid lately, and it felt really good too.
“You know what, Lucie, I don’t know either.”
Lucie gets up, fuming, sending blades of grass everywhere.
“You’re such a dick.” She stomps off toward the fountain.
Everyone head turns to her, to me, to her, to me again.
“Dude, you are so fucked,” Yasmine says. She pushes up her own sunglasses up her nose and lays right back down.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tony crawls toward me, a look of disbelief on his face. “You can’t talk to her like that!”
“I can’t talk to her like that?” I give a harsh laugh. “I haven’t said anything. I’m trying to study for a test and she won’t stop nagging me.”
“Please forgive her for giving a shit about you.”
“Yes, she cares so much about me.” A mad hunch forces me to bite back, with added venom. “Why don’t you go and console her. Go ahead. Then you can both complain about me.”
Tony’s eyebrows disappear into his headline. “You are really acting like a dick.” He gets up, wiping dirt off his jeans, and sets off after Lucie.
Sacha looks at me, pouting. “So… everything’s looking good between you two.”
I murder her with my eyes. “Please, don’t start.”
“Okay,” Yasmine says, getting up. “We don’t need this, let’s go.” She snaps her fingers and François gets up, albeit reluctantly, with a last look at Michael.
“Are you coming?”
Michael hesitates, then shakes his head. François’s expression grows darker, but he says nothing. Sacha gets up last, and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Hang in there, LouLou.”
The three of them walk away. I release a long, exhauster breath, then check the time on my phone.
One hour left.
Michael brushes grass off his elbows. From the corner of my eye, I observe him with concern. He’s the last person I want to fight with today. The only one who doesn’t make me feel like throwing inanimate objects arounds, save my elderly neighbour. What the hell am I becoming?
“That was something…” Michael says.
“Please don’t.”
“I won’t.” Michael ruffles his own hair, inadvertently causing my whole body to stand at attention. “I’ll even let you study. Because I know you haven’t studied for this test. And I feel it was my fault.”
“Nope, it wasn’t,” I say, breathless at this sight of his bouncy curls. “I should have studied yesterday, but I went to Tony’s.”
“I see.”
Now that I’m alone with Michael, studying seems even harder than when Lucie was annoyingly poking me in the ribs.
He doesn’t have to do anything. Just sit here, as he does, his hand instinctively reaching for his neck to rub it, his green eyes glittering in the sunlight.
Fuck it.
“Let’s go.”
“What?” He blinks. “Where?”
“Let’s walk back to Colette. I have less than an hour to study for this test and I’m not going to make it if I don’t have you against a wall by then.”
“Right.” Michael, blushing, hurries to his feet. “Excellent.”
We walk out of the park. Where are Lucie and Tony? Are they okay, or really mad, am I making another huge mistake by leaving them behind?
Michael, strolling in front of me, is humming an air I don’t know. Michael never has a care in the world, it’s as maddening as it is exciting. Right now, I want him even more than I’ve ever wanted him.
Ten minutes later, Michael opens the door to the boy’s toilets for me with great flourish, as though we’re entering a five star restaurant. In an instant we’re back into the last stall on the left, clutching each other like drowning men.
My hands grip both sides of his face. His are digging into my hips. Tanks, generals, Lucie’s angry face, everything melts away with a swipe of his tongue. His fingers slide under my shirt, graze my bare skin. A needy sound comes out of me, a sound I didn’t know I could make. I sink into his body with the crazed hope to disappear within its warmth. God knows where this will end if he doesn’t stop me. He has to stop me. He has to.
He doesn’t.
Demonstrating a self-control that I would have never believe I had in me, I’m the one who breaks away. Michael exhales a deep breath, his lips red and puffy.
He reaches out to rearrange my hair and I straighten his shirt, smooth out the fabric of his sleeves.
Someone comes in. Panic seizes me, but Michael, chill as ever, holds a finger to my lips and leans comfortably against the door, as though it’s not the first time this ever happens to him. For a minute, we’re very quiet, and very still in the stall, save for the hammering in my chest. When Michael starts picking at his cuticles, and I watch, bewildered, the person leaves and we’re alone again.
I start picking imaginary lint off his shirt, laughing nervously.
“You don’t mind, do you?” I ask.
“No, you’re doing a better job than I would.”
“Not this,” I say, letting my arms drop to my sides. “This. Us. Clandestine kisses in public toilets.”
Michael shakes his mane of hair and shrugs. “It’s not like it’s forever, is it?”
