Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

Leçon de gymnastique

I hope you're enjoying my story!!!💜💜💜💜💜💜

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"Damn, these shorts are too short and I can see too much of the hematoma I got yesterday at home!" says Simone exasperatedly, trying to pull on her shorts in a failed attempt to stretch them. "And they're a different color, too!"

"Come on Simone, don't be tragic. Do you want mine?" I ask her. I am less puny than her, and most likely my shorts are longer than hers. Her eyes light up and she thanks me.

'Now the bruise is gone,' she says enthusiastically. I, however, am not as happy as she is. Her shorts are not short for me; they are a little tight on my hips.

"Today Jean Pierre has the Discipline Council. I hope it goes well..." whines Michelle. Simone immediately runs to comfort her. I remain silent, watching them. On the one hand, I hope well for Michelle's brother; but I think expulsion is also fair. After all, he poked a student's eye out.

We set out inside the gymnasium: it is very large, spacious and brightly lit. Well furnished as well. I settle in next to Annick and we wait for the gym teacher to arrive, who, as expected, immediately starts talking to the large group of boys, with his back to us. "What a nuisance..." hisses Annick.

I'm about to raise my hand to get the professor's attention, when the door to the men's locker room opens noisily. Out of the locker room come Dupin and...Joseph together. I watch and notice that he is beginning to acquire his unnerving smirk again. They walk side by side until they reach the large group.

"Mr. Descamps, please take a seat on the bleachers." The professor invites him and Joseph changes direction, again with an almost haughty stride. I watch as he settles on the bleachers, not far behind Annick and me. The professor starts again with the pantomime, and I decide once and for all to interrupt him.

I raise my hand and clear my throat. "Professor." I say, to get his attention. The man stops talking and turns toward us. "Oh...right. The girls."

"A rope? You're telling me the boys are having fun playing handball and we're having fun with this!" croaks Simone, turning her gaze upward. After a few minutes, in which I tried in vain to climb up the rope, Michelle's hand holding me up abandons me in an instant, and I fall dead weight onto the mattress. "Oh God sorry Romy. I'm so sorry. Wait a second." Says Michelle anxiously, helping me to my feet.

I see her sneaking to the edge of the gym, where in a corner in the half-light, is Jean Pierre. I see them arguing animatedly, and he angrily shows her a large tear in his blue jacket. Simone, with her irresistible curiosity, joins them, leaving me alone on the mattress. I watch Annick nimbly climb the rope.

Left semi - alone, I decide to go for a drink of water, and so I approach the stands inconspicuously. I easily escape the gazes of the professor and my other companions, but not those of Descamps. After cooling my throat and quenching my thirst, I decide to sit in the stands, exactly in front of him, but one row over.

Simone and Michelle are not back yet, and Annick is still busy climbing up and down the rope.

"I saw you fall off the rope just now. You looked like a sack of potatoes," Joseph addresses me, always in that rude and falsely disinterested tone of his. I laugh slightly and keep my gaze fixed in front of me. "Thank you for the compliment," I reply, with no intention of turning to look at him.

I sense a silence behind my back, almost embarrassed. Probably, no one has ever answered him for the lines. Maybe that's why he thinks he's invincible. All of a sudden, Applebaun prances up to me. "Romy. Would you be so kind as to hold my glasses for me. You know, I don't want to end up like-" and immediately freezes, swallowing noisily. I feel Descamps' gaze turn icy.

"No problem, you can leave them here." I answer him politely, taking my second pair of glasses of the week for safekeeping. "Do you happen to have an innate passion for glasses, Potato Sack?" he asks me, in a cold voice. I laugh more than I should; in fact, I have too many glasses that are not mine on my hands these days.

I see that Simone and Michelle are on their way back to Annick's, but I decide to stay seated, not paying too much attention to their scowling looks. They must wonder why I am sitting next to that fool. I wonder, too, in truth.

"All right, everyone change in the locker room! Come on, Quick!" shouts the professor, thus putting an end to the lesson. I stand up and for the first time, I turn to look at Joseph. He is still sitting in his usual position, hands in his pockets, squatting on the gym wall. He is watching me with a look that I cannot decipher.

After a few moments, he stands up, and approaches me. Only now do I notice how tall he is.

"If you give me the glasses, I will take care to return them to their worthy owner." He says, smiling at me. These smiles of his get on my nerves. But on reflection, I cannot enter the boys' locker room, so I hand him Applebaun's glasses.

"Thank you..." he thanks me, slipping the glasses from my hands. As he walks away at his usual pace, he puts on the Applebaun Glasses, turns to me and exclaims, "Gee, Applebaun is less blind than I am!" and disappears behind the locker room door. I find that boy terribly obnoxious, but at the same time, he stirs up mixed emotions in me.

"I mean, what were you doing sitting next to Descamps?" begins the questioning Simone. I sit absentmindedly on the first steps of the entrance, and just stare at the courtyard. "Romy...?" urges Michelle.

I sigh while pretending to be bored. "We like to annoy each other. Don't worry, I hate it enough not to feel any more emotions." I affirm, looking down at them. "That's good Romy. Let me remind you that he is a bullying, mean bully who treats everyone badly, including Henri and Michelle!" replies Simone to me with a frown. She does not have all the turns actually.

While Simone and Michelle entertain Henri with their chatter, I see in the distance, sitting on a bench, Applebaun. He is without his glasses....

I set off furiously in search of that fool Descamps, and spot him leaning against the trunk of the olive tree, near the men's toilets. I get up, and without uttering a word to my friends, I walk toward him, trying to give off a confident air.

"To what do I owe your presence, Potato Sack?" he greets me boredly, as he exhales an enormous amount of smoke. Lamazier and his other little friend stare at me the way hawks stare at carcasses. "Hello Pirate." I greet him in turn. If he enjoys calling me Potato Sack, why can't I tease him in turn. His lips rise slightly.

"Please return the glasses to Applebaun. That's the way we agreed." I affirm, keeping my eyes on his. A small laugh escapes Lamazier.

"And what do I get in return?" he asks mischievously.

"Do you want to be class leader?"

I see his eyes widen in astonishment. After a few moments, he becomes serious again in the face and waves the two friends away. "Do you know the date of the battle?"

"Yes."

"That's too bad, but to your misfortune, it's always Felbec who is in charge."

"Did Felbec find the date?" I ask him curiously. Descamps looks over my head, only to find himself, not far from us, a desperate Felbec looking for the date.

"I'm listening..." he concludes, returning to look me in the eye. I smile contentedly, and extend my hand toward him, waiting to get my glasses back. After slipping them out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket, he places the glasses on my palm.

The contact with his warm fingers gives my back a jolt. Damn! Why this good-for-nothing does this to me. "The date, please."

I move closer to his ear, placing myself on tiptoe. I sense the acrid smell of his cigarette stinging my nose. He leans toward me carefully. "490 B.C."

I turn away quickly, hoping no one has seen us.

"I trust in your fairness, Seyedoux."

"You're welcome Descamps," I greet him as I walk away.

These name-calling games is beginning to annoy me.