How could anyone be friends or even lovers with an incorrigible boy?
Havoc ensues in changing , revolutionary time in France as girls are herded into a school full of boys.
(Enemies to lovers)
(Joseph Descamps & OC)
Mixte 1963/Voltaire high.
The next morning she drew herself out of bed. There was no faint sound of shuffling in the kitchen or her sister's footsteps running around the house to keep the house warm. Only phantoms of her family remained looming in every picture frame. She dressed like always and had a brown, wrinkled apple for breakfast hoping it would tame the growling of her stomach. When her father was still alive despite everything they still had full meal to eat. What was a necessity became a privilege. She was surviving over cabbage soup and tins. Sometimes she was lucky and her neighbour would drop by with ratatouille or a quiche. She would savour every bit of it down to the smell and heat, mouth salivating.
She walked to school as usual by herself joining the flooding crowd of boys that passed through the school gates. This is when she felt truly alive.
Across the courtyard she could feel Michèle stare at her. Michèle looks at her like she was the scum on her shoe scoffing before walking past, her shoulder violently knocking into Dahlia's. Guess things hadn't died down between them. Descamps begins to grin trying to bite down on a laugh, "Oh of course you find it comedic." She snapped rolling her eyes at his immaturity. He's leant back on a bench with his ridiculous group of followers, brown eyepatch and all. She could feel his animosity radiate from his figure. He got up and gave a michevious look to his friend. If he had two eyes he would wink at Dupin but they knew exactly what he was up to.
He stood in place at her side walking along with her, "Dahlia." He said his hands in his pockets with a plastered smile on his face, a beguiling smile. She turned slowly to him bewildered by this boys lack of shame after the tantrum and unholiness he tried illicit out of her. She swiftly turned back, "What happened to gouging out your eye at the sight of me?" She chuckled batting her eyes at him innocently trying to receive an irritated reaction. Whenever she was near him it was like someone had taken over her body and she needed an exorcism. She couldn't help it, her girl-ish nature and the urge to talk to him. He rolled his eyes dramatically, he drew close to her ear. "Yeh, yeh let me make it up to you." It wasn't a question but a suggestion that made her cheeks grow red. She pushed him away aggressively scowling at his vulgarity. "You're going to hell." She warned the boy of his doings shaking her head. She couldn't believe how willingly some people would sin not fearing God's wrath. "Come join me, I'll keep a spot warm for you." He said grinning as he walked away. She ignored him and walked off to her class not waiting for the bell to ring and order her about.
Nowadays she looked forward to seeing Descamps as much as she struggled to come to terms with this feeling. A glance from him or a little comment would send her spiralling in infatuation. He had become the object of her infatuation. She tried everything to control this engulfing feeling. At times when they didn't exchange words she felt hallow as she waited, sometimes it never came. She would listen to him laugh in class, memorised the outline of him in the courtyard and laughed to her dismay at every one of his jokes. She had depended on him so much that he had become the highlight of her day. Girls should fear this attachment, relying on a man to sort their problems would end tragically.
Mr Bellanger was stood at the front of the class with his brown, square glasses teaching. Dahlia watched Michèle and Simone sit rigidly next to her, an incredibly awkward tension between the two girls. Dahlia was thankful it had not been her stuck by the side of an angry Michèle. She had every right to be angry at Simone but her extended anger towards Dahlia was just unjustifiable. She was complicit in the sense of not telling her about their relationship but it wasn't her sin to confess. Luckily, since the boys couldn't stop chatting Mr Ballenger had implemented a seating plan. Her new seat mate was still Applebaum. He only shuffled a few boys around, splitting Simone and Michèle up to have them sat next to some other classmate.
Daniel was a good kid, they spoke when they were allowed to. Shared a moment of awkward small talk before he turned around to talk to his friends. She noticed when he got nervous around her, he would take off his glasses and wipe the lens clean with his cardigan despite the fact they were perfectly clear. He was also most annoyingly clumsy. He would fiddle with a pencil, swinging it around side to side giving the poor pencil motion sickness until it fell to the ground in a rattle, crawling under her chair. Then she would have to get from him, kicking about the pencil until it's in reach. The table over sat Descamps, she avoided looking at him at all times.
The last bell of the day ran. Descamps watched Dahlia take her time packing her things to her annoyance. He tried to slow down to finish at the same time as her but she was going slower as usual possibly trying to avoid the crowd of boys pushing through the halls to leave. He gave up and left with his friends.
Dahlia walked out the gate, the courtyard now was empty. She walked past Joseph who was leaning on the brick fence of the school with a cigarette in his hand, tapping the grey ash away. When he spotted her he pushed his body off the wall and stood right in front of her path making her come to a jolting stop. He tossed his burning cigarette to the ground and stood on it. She wanted to scold him for littering but she really didn't want to engage in a conversation with him. "Excuse me." She said frowning not looking up at him. She took a step to side to walk around him but he relentlessly obstructed her path again. This time she toppled toward him, her face bumping into his chest. "Ow!" she yelped taking a step back holding her nose. He laughed softly, "Let me see." His hands on top of hers peeling them away from her face. Her face was pristine like always, she was being dramatic. "You're fine." He scoffed letting go of her hands and shrugging. She let out a loud, obnoxious huff, "What is it that you want now?" She snapped continuing her walk home. It was winter it got dark early.
He of course uninvited accompanied her on her walk home, "Heard your mother's away, she take your sister with her?" Her mother had gone to visit her sister in London unable to take care of herself or her youngest child. Dahlia was left to fend for herself for the time being. "How do you know?" She asked curiously. "Neighbours speak." He shrugged, he had heard the news at breakfast this morning from a conversation across the table between his parents.
He held her arm to stop and she complied her face holding an expression aggravation as she tapped her foot onto the cobbled pavement. His hand went to his inside pocket and fiddled for a moment. In his hands he held two tickets, "you and me that is if you say yes." He said a small nervous smile on his lips. Her annoyance faded and she was looking at him with an unusual look, something along the lines of awe and surprise. She cleared her throat, "For unsuspecting wife?" She asked taking one of the tickets from his hand. He shook his head looking down at her, "No for Charade." He said plainly as if what he was doing wasn't anything sentimental. "Oh... I'm not complaining Audrey Hepburn is in that too." She trailed off smiling awkwardly, her cheeks are pink and so are his. He tried to play it all off by putting his hands back in his pockets, "All American films are the same, what's the difference really." He shrugged. There were standing at the cross ways of their streets, right in between. The sun setting and now only an amber slit in the edge of the sky.
It felt as though they had been standing there forever staring at each other intensely as if they were trying to figure each other out. She was like a puzzle that had missing pieces. She stands on her tip toes after looking around for any pedestrians and planted a kiss on to his cheek, "thank you, Joseph." She whispered he could feel her hot breath fade as she pulled away from his face. His hand rose to hold his cheek feeling the warmth she had evoked onto his skin. He took that as a 'yes' to his invitation. He couldn't help but smile to himself all the way down his street towards his house. He had kissed many girls before but none replayed in his mind like a broken record, he quite enjoyed his secret infatuation.
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