Anna and the French Kiss: Etienne's POV

12

Ellie scowls at me. "What's your problem, St. Clair?"

"You never talk to Rashmi anymore. She takes it out on me. All the time."

"Things change."

"Yeah well, you don't just ditch your friends when you find a better oppurtunity. What did she ever do to you?"

"Nothing. I've moved on from high school. Why is it such a big deal?" She crosses her arms, her red nail polish twinkling from the métro light.

"I don't want to sound like an arse, Ellie, but you have been acting like a stuck-up Parisian. It's getting old, and it's very unlike you. You ought to change the way you act."

"Well if I'm such a bitch, why are we still dating?"

I pause. My face relaxes and I swallow. "Are you saying we should break up?"

"I'm saying that things haven't been working out."

"Well, what do you suppose we do?"

"I don't know, St. Clair. I'm going home."

She walks towards the métro, and I think about following after her.

But I decide not to.

"So, what's the deal with you and Anna?" Josh smirks. It's just Josh and I at breakfast today, Mer and Rashmi aren't coming and Anna never showed up.

I almost spit the toast from my mouth. "Nothing."

"Come on, St. Clair, I'm not stupid. I know that you have the hots for her," he says. "So is like, Ellie, out of the picture now?"

"No. Ellie is very much in the picture. We haven't been getting along lately. Either I'm angry because she doesn't care about you guys, or she's angry because she feels inferior about Anna. Anna's really attractive, but it's too complicated. Her feelings are probably not the same anyways. She likes some guy back home."

"That's it. He's back home. You and I both know that us guys have needs." He gestures toward what's between his legs.

I laugh. "Hey! I don't have such needs as much as you."

Anna. Slowly lifting up her shirt. Leaving small kisses on my neck. The taste of her bottom lip--stop. Stop. I need to stop thinking like that. It isn't a possible scenario.

At lunch, Anna slams her food tray down on the table. Lentil soup spills over the side of her bowl, and her plum rolls away. I catch it. "What's eating you?" I ask.

"French."

"Not going well?"

"Not going well."

I place the plum back on her tray and smile. "You'll get the hang of it."

"Easy for you to say, Monsieur Bilingual."

My smile fades. "Sorry. You're right, that was unfair. I forget sometimes."

She stirs her lentils aggressively. "Professeur Gillet always makes me feel stupid. I'm not stupid."

"Of course you aren't. It'd be mad for anyone to expect fluency. It takes time to learn anything, especially a language."

"I'm just so tired of going out there"--Anna gestures at the windows--"and being helpless."

I'm surprised at her suggestion. "You aren't helpless. You go out every night, often on your own. That's a far cry from when you arrived. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Hmph."

"Hey." I scoot closer. "Remember when Professeur Cole said when she was talking about the lack of translated novels in America? She said it's important to expose ourselves to other cultures, other situations. And that's exactly what you're doing. You're going out, and you're testing the waters. You ought to be proud of yourself. Screw French class, that means sod-all."

She cracks a smile. "Yeah, but Professeur Cole was talking about books, not real life. There's a big difference."

"Is there? What about film? Aren't you the one who's always going on about cinema as a reflection of life? Or was that some other famous film critic I know?"

"Shut up. That's different."

I laugh, because I caught her. "See? You ought to spend less time worrying about French, and more time. . ." I trail off, my attention snagged by Dave who is kneeling on the cafeteria floor behind us. His head is bowed, and he thrusts a small plate in the air before Anna.

"Allow me to present this éclair with my humblest apologizes."

Anna's face burns. "What are you doing?"

Dave looks up and grins. "Sorry about the extra assignment. That was my fault."

Anna's speechless. When she doesn't take the dessert, he rises and delivers it in front of her with a grand flourish. Everyone is staring. He nabs a chair from the table behind us and wedges himself between Anna and me.

I'm incredulous. "Make yourself at home, David."

He doesn't seem to hear me. He dips his finger in the sticky chocolate icing and licks it off. Gross. Would it hurt him to learn manners? "So. Tonight. Texas Chain Saw Massacre. I'll never believe you aren't afraid of horror films if you don't let me take you."

I hate Dave. If I disliked him before, I definitely hate him now. "Uh. . .sorry." Anna grasps for an excuse. "But I'm not going. Anymore. Something came up.""

"Come on. Nothing could be that important on a Friday night." He pinches her arm, and she glances desperately at me.

"Physics project," I cut in, glaring at Dave's hand. "Last minute. Loads to do. We're partners."

"You have all weekend to do homework. Loosen up, Oliphant. Live a little."

"Actually," I say, "It sounds like Anna has quite a bit of additional work to do this weekend. Thanks to you."

Dave finally turns around to face me. We exchange scowls.

"I'm sorry," Anna says.

But Dave looks at me again. "It's cool," he says after a moment. "I get it."

"What?" Anna's confused.

"I didn't realize. . ." Dave motions between Anna and me.

"No! No. There's nothing. There, I mean it, we'll see something soon. I'm just busy tonight. With the physics thing."

Dave looks annoyed, but he shrugs his shoulders. "No biggie. Hey, you going to the party tomorrow night?"

Nate is throwing a Halloween bash for Résidence Lambert. "Yeah, probably. I'll see you there."

Dave stands up. "Cool. I'm holding you to that."

"Right. Sure. Thanks for the éclair!" She calls after him.

"You're welcome, beautiful."

I roll my eyes. He's probably said that to the 15 other girls he's asked out already this school year. "Wanker," I say, the moment Dave's out of earshot.

"Don't be rude."

I stare at her with an unfathomable expression "You weren't complaining when I made an excuse for you."

She pushes the éclair away. "He put me on the spot, that's all."

"You ought to thank me."

"Thank you." She says sarcastically. Josh clears his throat and points at Anna's finger-smudged dessert. "You gonna eat that?" He asks.

"Be my guest," she says.