I've Never Heard Him 'Oooh' and 'Aaah'

Chapter 3

“Bossuet?”

“No, Joly, your tongue looks the same as it did yesterday.”

“You didn’t even look!”

“I stopped looking years ago.”

“But what if I’m actually dying this time? I hope you’re prepared to explain to everyone why my tombstone says ‘I told you so’!”

“Anyone who knew you will understand.” Rather nonchalantly, Bossuet flipped the page of his book and continued reading while Joly smiled and flipped him off.

They were in the univeristy library and while Bossuet was reading up on a case, Joly was trying to do his med homework but Bossuet saw the phone under the table, perpetually opening and reopening to diagnosispro . com. From their table, they had the perfect view of the entire library. They were located at the center, where all the aisles began and rejoined again, with a direct view of the front door. It was ideal in every way.

“Guys! GUYS!” Jehan bounded up the aisle to their immediate right, causing Bossuet to drop his book and Joly to drop his phone under the table. “Guess who I saw in the poetry section!”

His voice had dropped down to a dramatic whisper. Joly had ducked under the table to retrieve his phone.

“Lord Byron?” Bossuet asked, feigning excitement. Jehan’s face fell.

“Do you really think I’d be here talking to you people if Lord Byron was within ten feet of my person?”

“Fair point, go on.”

Jehan’s excitement returned to him as he grinned and exclaimed, “Enjolras in the flesh!”

“No!” Bossuet gasped but beamed all the same. At the same time, they heard the muffled sound of Joly hitting his head on the bottom of the table. Coming out from under the table and sitting down again, Joly asked with incredulity:

“What?!”

“Has it been done?” Bossuet asked. “Has someone finally written an epic poem about Robespierre?”

“No. Wordsworth did have a notable fascination with the French Revolution but that’s beside the point.” Jehan dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand and pulled up a chair beside his friends. “So, I was just browsing to see if anything new had been added to the poetry section. Absolutely nothing if you wanted to know.”

He said it sharply, as if he were personally offended, which he probably was. “And I saw him holding a book of Shakespeare sonnets so close to his face you would think he was trying to inhale the words off the page.”

“He does like to be well read,” Joly offered.

“Yes, but in love poetry?” Jehan sounded skeptical. “Believe me, I have tried and failed him in that area time and time again.”

“You don’t suppose he’s finally decided to cultivate his heart, do you?” Bossuet smirked with firm disbelief.

“Perhaps some has already begun cultivating it for him,” Jehan suggested. His voice had grown soft and was marked by a reverential tone, which was wont to occur when he spoke of matters of the heart.

“Wait, Prouvaire, before we break the bad news to Patria, which sonnet was he reading?” Joly raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Jehan pursed his lips.

“I couldn’t tell. A piece of paper fell out of the book and as he leaned down to pick it up, I, well…” Jehan blushed. “I was afraid he would see me and think I was spying. After what happened between him and Combeferre this morning, I really don’t think getting on his bad side is such a good idea.”