D'accord- La Fête

Chapter 3

As David was finishing the last of his orange, Rachid walked into the room and sat down opposite of David.

"Hey David," Rachid asked, his eyes looking anywhere but at David.

David continued to glare at his orange.

"What do you want, Rachid?" He said, picking at the peel.

Rachid felt extremely anxious after Stephane's insightful comments about Americans.

'You are always hearing about people walking around the shops with guns and teachers having guns in school,' Rachid thought. 'Maybe it's not so much of a stretch to think an artist like David owns a gun?'

"Did you- No, uh, do you, merde!" Rachid swore. He was too nervous to get his words out. While he was pretty sure he could take David, (partly because of David's weak artist's body, and partly because of Rachid's intense exercise regimen) David still had a height advantage, and maybe a gun as well.

David chuckled at Rachid's outburst.

"I've never heard you swear before, Rachid. When I first came here I thought French people swore all the time." David swept the orange peel into the bin, and he got up to go to his room.

"I have to be at Stephane's cafe at 6 to help decorate, are you coming?" He asked, oblivious to Rachid's clear discomfort.

"Yeah, sure," Rachid said, staring blankly at the wall.

A few minutes later, David emerged from his room and started to put on his shoes.

"Hey Rachid. I'm gonna head out to get the supplies, and then go to the cafe. Are you coming?" David asked.

Rachid turned his head and stared in David's general direction, but said nothing.

David shrugged, confused, and left the apartment.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Rachid was on his feet and headed to David's room.

Rachid wiped his sweaty hands on his pants nervously, and began to open all of David's drawers in search of any kind of evidence that declared David as a second-amendment loving, red-blooded American.

Rachid dug through multiple drawers of shirts, pants, underwear, and art supplies, but he still found nothing violent. Rachid even flipped through all of David's sketchbooks, which contained art critiques, landscapes, still lifes, a surprisingly large amount of Melanie Martinez fan art, and not surprisingly, many portraits of Sandrine.

Rachid sat on the wood floor, surrounded by the debris of his search. He stood up and started to pick up and fold all of the clothing, when he kicked a sock under the bed in an ill-advised attempt to bring the sock closer to him. Rachid got back down on the floor and peered under David's bed for the sock. He didn't see the sock, because he was captivated by the steel safe under the bed.

Rachid pulled it out, and he placed on top of the bed with shaking hands.

Mon dieu, thought Rachid, is this a gun safe? Don't Americans have those?

Rachid tried to guess the passcode to unlock the safe.

He typed in 1776.

It didn't work, and he gave up immediately.

Rachid put the safe back under the bed, but now his worst fears were confirmed.