"What exactly are we supposed to be studying?" Elsa tapped her spoon against her coffee cup, well aware she looked nervous. Tyler leaned back in his chair. "Life, Miss Song. People. Culture." He flung out an arm as if he was presenting her with the entire city. He probably could, she thought dryly. "So it's not just a morning messing around or doing retail therapy?" "Now, now. Sir Pitch is big on self-motivation, initiative, that kind of guff. That's why I took you to the Pompidou Centre first, and the museum." His face split in a grin. "Now we can mess around."
"Oh. OK." The sun was warm on the back of her neck, and a light breeze played among the leaves of plane trees and the small zinc tables of the café. Traffic fumes mingled with strong scents of coffee and bread and someone's pungent French cigarette. Fidgeting, she picked up her cup, and put it down again. Empty. "Let me get you another one of those." With what seemed barely more than a flicker of his eyelid and a twitch of one finger, Tyler summoned a white-aproned waiter. "Something to eat, Elsa?" "Well, I-" He didn't wait, but gave his order in clipped French, ending on a dazzling smile that even the surly waiter had to return.
Replacing his customary scowl, the man turned and hurried away, as if embarrassed to have shown a spark of humanity. "There's birds in that thar tree," said Elsa, nodding at one of the plane trees in the square. "Go on, charm them out of it, I dare you." Tyler laughed in delight. "I'd rather concentrate on charming you." Elsa searched his face for traces of mockery, but Tyler met her stare full-on, smiling.
"Don't be so hung up on being a scholarship girl," he said. "You're much more interesting than all these spoilt heiresses and daughters of despots. Prettier too." "Oh, get a life." Elsa felt herself flush scarlet. "Or did you mean I'm prettier than the despots?" Tyler hooted. "I like you, Elsa Song! You're a proper student, and you're funny too. Those other girls, they're comestibles." Elsa blinked. "You lost me." "I could eat them in one bite." He bared his white teeth. "In your dreams, mate." Mind you, Elsa thought, he probably could take his pick of the girls at school. The combination of looks and charm was dizzying.
"Really, though, I'm serious. Those girls are gorgeous, sure, in a polished sort of way, but you're striking. Your eyes could pierce sheet metal, I swear to God. What do you call that colour? Blue? They're so pale they're nearly baby blue." Elsa fidgeted with her hair. "I dunno. Ordinary?" "Oh, anything but. And your bone structure is to die for." "Give over. I've got a pointy chin." "Just what I said. Amazing bone structure. You know who you look like? You're really like -" "Like . . .?" But Tyler had stopped himself in mid-flow, and was chewing the inside of his cheek. "You're not beautiful," he rushed on, giving the word a deprecating emphasis.
"Not like the despotesses. You're more natural. Real. Fresh. Anyway," he added conspiratorially, "some of them don't even shave their armpits." The new coffees arrived at that moment, so Elsa had to put her hands over her mouth to stifle her explosion of laughter. The waiter gave her a filthy look. "You are the limit," she said when he'd gone. "What's this?" "Pain au chocolat. Go on, try it, it's heavenly." Doubtfully she bit into it. It was warm and flaky - like Tyler, she thought with an inner grin - and entirely delicious.
YOU ARE READING
Black Academy
Fanfic'TRUE GRADUATES OF THE BLACK ACADEMY TAKE LIFE BY THE THROAT, ELSA. REMEMBER THAT!' The Black Academy is a school like no other. An élite establishment that moves to a new exotic city every term, its students are possibly beautiful, sophisticated...
