Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

L'ouvrage sur Jean Racine

I arrive at school a few minutes late because of that damn alarm clock. I quickly get off my mother's bike, clumsily place it in the rack and run towards the entrance.

As I walk briskly towards my class, I search to myself for a sufficiently adequate excuse for my tardiness; I don't want to get a disciplinary note. Not now that my grades are very good, as is my conduct. Absorbed in my thoughts, I clash with Simone. As I settle the folder on my shoulder, I observe her. "Simone, are you late too?" I ask, smiling at her.

She gives me a pained look and nods. "Is something wrong?" I ask her, confused. "No, I'm fine Romy. Let's go, we're late, we're definitely going to get a good note!" she says, walking past me into the corridor of our classroom. As I start walking again, I look up and see that her light blue skirt is completely stained with blood.

"Simone, wait!" I call to her, just in time enough for her not to enter the classroom. She turns towards me questioningly. As soon as I reach her, I take off my coat and rest it on her shoulders. "Simone, you got blood on your skirt." I warn her. My coat is very long, long enough to cover the stain. "Maybe we'd better go to the infirmary. Miss Bellanger will have something to change you." I tell her, taking her by the arm and walking the other way.

"No Romy, we are already late." Her voice is broken with pain. I hope it's nothing serious.

As soon as we reach the infirmary, I knock hard and after a few seconds Nurse Bellanger opens for me. Immediately she helps me lay Simone down on the cot.

"Are you OK Miss Palladino?" Jeanne asks her. Simone does not look well: she is pale in the face, and sweating a lot. The nurse turns her on her stomach and notes with horror that there is a lot of blood loss. And here I thought it was a simple menstruation that came suddenly.

"Keep an eye on her for a moment. I'm going into the other room to get some things." Jeanne orders me, disappearing behind the protective curtain. "Don't worry Simone, you'll be better," I tell her, reassuring her. I shake her hand and she accepts, shaking it in my turn.

"I saw you pass by the park yesterday," she says in a broken voice. I blink: last night. Last night, after I had argued with Joseph and was on my way home. I had hoped to the last that no one had seen me. "Simone, there's no need to worry about that now."

"Don't tell Michelle...she'd hate me for the rest of her life. I screwed up Romy. I'm so sorry." She tells me, starting to cry, both from sadness and from the pain in her belly. "I won't say anything to Michelle, don't worry. My only thought now is for you to get better okay?"

Jeanne returns, holding a few things, including a skirt. "Go back to class, Miss Seyedoux. I'll take care of Miss Palladino. I will take care of her," the nurse reassures me.

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'Excuse me. Good morning, Professor. Sorry for being late." I say as I enter the classroom, standing in front of everyone. The professor watches me carefully as a hawk would a carcass abandoned in the middle of the desert. "Your excuse for being twenty minutes late?" he asks me.

Damn. I haven't come up with an acceptable excuse. I certainly can't use Simone as an excuse. I remain silent in front of the whole class, earning myself amused looks and most importantly a big disciplinary note. "Go sit down."

I sit down next to Annick, and as the professor goes back to class, I take out my things and place them on the desk in front of me. "Simone's not well...she's in the nurse's office." I warn Annick, keeping my gaze down. "Is it serious?" she asks me in a low voice. "I don't know..." I sigh.

The lesson proceeds smoothly, and I finally manage to understand the Latin declension vocative.

After the professor greets us, reminding us of the test next week, he leaves the classroom, taking all the silence with him. Michelle joins us at the first desks with a big question mark on her forehead. 'Simone? She didn't warn me or anything."

"Simone is not well, we met in the corridor when I was coming. She is in the infirmary now, but I don't know why she is sick." I answer her, searching with my eyes for Joseph. And I find him sitting at his desk, in the second to last row, I mean talking to Dupin and Vergoux.

"Now we have French. You are ready for the exhibition, aren't you?" asks Annick.

"Well, Applebaun and I are ready," Michelle answers her anxiously. I stand staring at Joseph, as if petrified.

"Hey, how about you?" asks Annick, giving me a gentle tap on the hip. "Huh? Yes, yes we are ready." No we're not, we're not ready. Last time, instead of completing the job, we had a fight, and he threw me out of his house. That's what I should have said to Annick.

"Good morning pupils. Please be quiet." The French teacher greeted us, entering at a brisk pace. After carefully placing his satchel on the chair behind the desk, he scrutinises us from the top of the step. "To speed up the expositions, I ask you, for this time, to sit in the desk with your workmate. Thank you, quickly." He orders us, taking out his things and arranging them on the desk.

O. My. God. I turn around and look for Joseph's gaze. After finding it, he nods at me, inviting me to sit in the second to last row. I gather my stuff and walk off in silence, leaving my pew to Pichon.

"Hi." I greet him, like the careless girl I am. He does not greet me and merely throws the pen he had forgotten on the counter at Vergoux's head. "You missed this one on the way."

Vergoux turns around laughing.

I sit down slowly, settling into my chair as best I can. "Hey you. See that you don't vandalise my bench, I'm fond of it." Vergoux warns me, turning back to look at the professor.

One exposition after another, I begin to feel pressured. For everything, for the exposure, but especially for the last confrontation I had with Joseph. Suddenly, he approaches my face, bringing his lips close to my ear. "For those twenty minutes, I really thought you were a coward. Not showing up for the exhibition would have been checkmate." He hisses at me, in a harsh tone, returning with a straight head.

I turn towards him, and meet his gaze. Shivers run down my spine, and I return to stare at the desk.

Keeping my gaze fixed on the desk, where Applebaun and Michelle are exhibiting, I squeeze the pen between my fingers, almost hurting. My heart is beating very fast, and I can tell that I am anxious. After the applause for Michelle and Applebaun's exposition ends, the professor meets my gaze.

"Great, now let's continue with Descamps and Seyedoux." He says, inviting us up. Joseph rises quickly, bumping my shoulder, and overtaking me. Anxiety rises. I follow him, staying behind his back, looking down, and climb the step in front of the desk.

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"You made a beautiful exhibition, congratulations." Annick smiles at me. Michelle, agreeing with what Annick has just said, nods.

"You talked a lot Descamps, I would never have guessed. From what you told us a few days ago, I expected him to go silent." Michelle continues, walking towards the front gate. As soon as she finishes her sentence, Joseph, Vergoux and Dupin pass us at a brisk pace.

My heart kicks again in the throes of strong emotions.