Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

Faiblesses

I love the character of Annick, and I dedicated a chapter to herHope you like it!!💜💜💜💜

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"What have you done?!" shouts Simone in shock, loosening the collar of her white blouse. Our faces are very confused. Michelle, on the other hand, smiles like a schoolgirl would with her first love crush.

"Alain saved me, isn't he so cute?" she squeaks, fuelling Simone's spirits even more. Annick remains silent, with a slightly judgmental look on her face.

"I think he likes me..." admits Michelle, blushing. 'I feel the same way,' I reply, smiling at her. 'Alain is a good guy and friend, kind and quiet. If they got together as a couple, I would be happy for both of them. "And you like him Michelle!" exclaims Simone, hugging her.

'Well, Alain is a good guy,' Annick manages to say, sketching a smile. "now excuse me, but I have to go help my mother at the butcher shop, see you tomorrow!" greets Michelle, holding up her satchel. 'I so hope they get together...' dreams Simone.

"What about you Simone, are you dating anyone?" asks Annick, also feeding my curiosity. Simone lingers for a few moments, fiddling with the collar of her shirt. "I actually...yes. He's a beautiful boy, I love him so much." Her tone screams the word BLEEP at me. I notice that her gaze escapes easily and I see her quite flustered.

"Sorry, I have to go now too, my aunt and uncle are waiting for me for lunch." He greets us, bouncing down the stairs.

"Speaking of lunch, the two of us have to head to my house too. My mum is making a good lunch, trust me." I smile at Annick and we set off towards my house.

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"Welcome! I'm Maude, Romy's mum. Come on in honey, and give me your coat, I'll hang it up for you," my mother assails her, still with her enthusiastic attitude. "Nice to meet you, I'm Annick." She introduces herself, smiling.

At the table we laugh a lot, and I see Annick very loose and relaxed, which is very rare knowing her. She makes a lot of funny talk with my father and sister. "Anyway, I congratulate the cook. The lunch was great," Annick says wiping her lips with her napkin.

"Oh well thank you Annick, this is Romy's favourite dish isn't it?" exclaims my mother with a big smile on her lips. "Indeed!" I reply laughing at her.

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"Come on in, this is my room. We can study here if you like. I'll go get another chair."

"It's OK, I study well sitting on the carpet too." Annick answers me kindly, opening her folder and taking out two books, her pencil and her blue notebook. I shrug, and decide to sit next to her, on the carpet in the middle of the room. "What are we studying?" I ask her, reaching for my half-open folder at the foot of the desk."

"If you like, I can help you with Latin and English." She offers me her help. I brighten up. "You're an angel!" I thank her, arranging the Latin book in front of me.

"Listen. I apologise again for how I behaved yesterday. It's not like me, and more importantly you are my friend, I would never treat you badly." She confesses to me, sketching a smile. I turn to look at her and sense that our friendship is growing stronger.

I rest a hand on her shoulder to reassure her.

"Don't worry Annick. I'm not mad."

"No, really. I'm sorry, it's just..." she stammers and falters. I see her face darken, and a slight anxiety rises in me. "What's going on?" I ask her, trying not to be prying.

"I am ashamed of my family, that is why I did not allow you to come and study with me." She confesses to me, covering her face with her pale hands. "Oh..." I sigh.

"My father ran away years ago, and I was left alone with my mother. We live above the bar, which my mum runs. I...I've been in big trouble lately."

"Annick, take it easy. If you want, you can tell me. I listen to you, and if I can help, gladly," I reassure her, trying to meet her eyes.

"We don't sail in Gold Romy. My mother, well. She tries to support us both with her two jobs. Try to understand me." Yes Annick, I understand you, I think to myself.

"And I stupidly agreed to have a photoshoot done for money, by a man who is dating my mother."

"What kind of photo shoot Annick?" at my question, she bursts into tears and hugs me, seeking comfort. I hold her and stroke her hair, sensing her pain from her sobs. "I'm so stupid..." she sobs.

"Annick, how can I help you? Tell me, I want to help you, you are my friend and I love you,' I confess to her. She raises her head again, her eyes completely glazed over. "Friend?" she stammers. "Yes Annick. You are my friend, and I want to help you," I reply in a firm voice, smiling at her. "I'm afraid some pictures of me have ended up in some magazine, and I'm afraid someone who knows me will see them and laugh at me..."

"Don't worry, I'm with you. I will help you." I reassure her. "You're my first real friend I have Romy." She smiles at me, wiping her red, hot cheeks. I help her up and invite her into the bathroom. "Rinse your face, you'll feel better. This is my towel, go ahead and use it."

After going back to studying, I see Annick more serene and focused. I am pleased to have been of help to her. In truth, she is my first real friend too. "How is it going with the French work? Is Pichon working hard?" I ask her.

"Yes, we are working well. The work is balanced, we've divided the parts well, and now we're figuring out how to prepare for next Monday's class exposition." She answers me, closing her Latin book. I continue looking at the sentences I have just translated from Latin into French, and I feel satisfied. I have been improving a lot in Latin for a while now.

"It's OK with Joseph, isn't it?" asks Annick, fixing her hair. I look up; not sure whether to be panicked or surprised. "No." I answer her. Most likely though, when I lie I have the ability to have subtitles on my forehead. "Liar. Come on, tell me the truth. We're friends aren't we?"

Yes, we are friends Annick, but I'm so scared about my feelings for that boy. "I'm confused, actually." I reply, and she pursues me with her gaze.

"We tease each other, I often dislike him for his arrogant manner. But the other day, when we met to do French work, I felt good in his company. We worked well, we laughed. He...smiled at me."

"Descamps smiling? That's unbelievable." He replies, chuckling.

"But he remains the usual arrogant villain."

"Depends."

"Depends, in what way?" I am somewhat confused by his answer.

"Is he an arrogant villain, or is he being an arrogant villain?"

The difference is huge. It makes me think a lot.