The sixth sense

Chapter 12

EMMA

Pauline and I are on our way to the theater rehearsal. Madame Ferrar organized a charity performance to raise funds for Burkin-Faso schools and we decided to participate in it too. Or to be exact, I decided to support Pauline who wanted to get the leading role in based on Pride and Prejudice stage direction. But Madame Ferrar gave her Mrs. Bennet's role and Claire got the leading role. To my surprise, Pauline let it go easily and said that Mrs. Bennet's character performed by her would shine with the new colors and become the center of everyone's attention. Knowing my friend, I had no doubt it would be so.
"I need to stop by Franprix to buy some water," Pauline says, pulling me to the store. "You know, I just read in one of the fashion books that after COVID the prices for Louis Vuitton and Chanel increased by ten percent! Chanel decided to follow Hermes's example because their Birkin bags cost as much as a boing wing, which is much easier to get . . . anyway, they now want to make their classics as exclusive as Hermes's."
We walk into the store and Pauline keeps telling me more about brands, prices, sales, and fashion changes after the crisis. I nod sometimes, pretending to be on the same page with her.
"All right, what's going on with you?" she asks, offended. "I'm trying to make a conversation here. Monologues are not my major."
I smile apologetically. "Sorry, bad mood."
"What's wrong with your mood? Is it about Adam again?"
"Am I that obvious?"
"You have no idea," she responds, winking. She buys a bottle of water and we leave the store.
"He's avoiding me," I begin.
My friend takes a loud sip of her water and shakes her head. "No, Emma. Your relationship is not his entire life and it irritates you."
I frown and try to explain. "No, he's avoiding me. He ignores my calls and it takes him forever to respond to my texts and he's always in a rush."
Pauline sighs. "Emma, you need to do the same thing. Ignore his calls and stop sending him dozens of texts!"
"I wouldn't send that many texts if he didn't ignore me!" My voice is loud and angry.
"Emma, it's time to get used to the fact that you love him more than he loves you. You want to spend your entire free time with him, but it's not mutual. And trust me, he's not the only guy who asks the same way. Not a single guy wants to be with his girlfriend twenty-four-seven!"
Her words hurt, but I try to play it cool. I always knew my feelings for Adam were stronger than what he felt for me. But I never felt the lack of his attention. Until recently. Now I see a downfall growing between us.
"We haven't been together for a long time, Pauline. This morning I sent him a picture . . ." I pause for a second. "A picture of naked me but he didn't say a word about it. He rarely kisses me, and he only responds if I start kissing him first. Unwillingly," I sum it up.
Pauline listens carefully, rubbing her chin. "If I didn't know Adam, I would have thought he's seeing someone else. But knowing your story, I'm sure it's because he has enough of you my dear friend. I told you that before, but I'm going to repeat myself—you need to give him a break, Emma! And let him miss you."
"Do you even hear what I'm saying? We haven't had sex for two weeks! How much longer does he need to start missing me? We talked last night, but it was a very short conversation."
She stops and looks me in the eye. "Emma, sometimes I feel like your addiction to Adam turns into obsession. And it's incurable."
"What do you mean?"
"You're crazy about him! It's like you told yourself he's the only guy you can be happy with and you can't be happy when he's away from you."
"Since when have you become a therapist? Seriously, you're nuts." My nervousness hits the roof. "Why do you think I'm crazy about him? All I want is to talk to him. It doesn't make me crazy about him."
"You know how fussy I can be at times. Last night I tried to find the address of the house where Hugo lived. I read his biography and you know what? He had a daughter, named Adel. She was mentally unstable or to be exact, she was obsessed with someone. He was an officer and she followed him everywhere . . ."
"Stop telling me stupid stories. I don't have any mental disease."
"I know, I know," Pauline hurries to say. "You're not like Adel. But reading her story, I thought—" She pauses.
"Just say it, Pauline. What did you think?"
"You can be a very egoistical person, Emma. Sometimes I think Adam is your . . ." She bites her lip.
"My who?" I start to lose my patience with her.
"Your fancy," she finishes the line. "But he's not a toy, Emma. You can't control him and tell him what to do."
Her words give me fits.
"I'm not telling him what to do!"
Pauline shakes her head. "You don't even see that, Emma. You're manipulating him and you're using his feelings for you against him. You always make him feel guilty. He never dares to upset you and he always does what you want him to do."
"It's not true, Emma. Adam and I discuss everything and decide everything together."
"No, really? I bet most of your text to him say, 'I miss you', 'I need you', 'I miss you', 'How could you ignore me?', 'Hope you have a good reason to treat me like that'. Am I not right? If you show me your texts, I doubt I would find a single 'How are you?' message. Not to mention, 'Tell me what's going on with you?"
I blink a few times, trying to calm down and start thinking straight again.
"You're right," I whisper. "But I was angry he . . ."
She ends the line for me, saying, "Ignored you. That's your problem, Emma. You demand too much attention. It's like you're drinking his energy and he loves you too much to say no to you. But it's still not enough for you."
"I know I can be egotistical at times. But you're exaggerating. I'm not that terrible and I do worry about him and care about his feelings."
"Everything you do, you do for yourself, Emma! There's a huge difference between caring about someone because you love them and doing it for your own benefit! Adam is your shelter from the outer world. And you're holding him in a death grip, not letting him breathe freely."
"Why are you defending him?" I ask, confused.
Pauline smiles sadly. "I'm not defending him. I care about you and I'm trying to help you see the mistakes you're making with him. Because if you're going to keep doing the same things and treat him like your property, he'll break up with you. No one can stand that much pressure, Emma."
I roll my eyes. "Now, I feel like a monster."
"If you're not ready to hear the truth, stop asking for my advice," Pauline says, offended.
We spend the rest of the way to the theatre in silence. I think about her words and my anger starts to boil. She doesn't understand anything. She doesn't know anything about my relationship with Adam. And if I don't ask about anything about his life, it doesn't mean I don't care about him. But I feel sad. Because some of the things Pauline mentioned were definitely true. Adam is my shelter from the outside world indeed and I miss him so much . . . all the time.
My thoughts are being interrupted by Paul's unexpected appearance. "There you are! We're being late. Do you have any idea what time it is now?"
"Ferrar said the rehearsal starts at four," Pauline says.
"Yeah, but it's two minutes to four," I say, looking at the watch. "We need to hurry."
Madame Ferrar hates students being late and never misses her chance to kick the cat. No one wants to become a victim of her sarcasm.
"Why are you so sad, Emma?" Paul asks, searching my face. "Are you upset I'm playing Darcy but you didn't get the role of Elizabeth?"
"I'm glad to play Caroline Bingly. Her role is short compared to Elizabeth's."
"Stop cracking, Paul. We all know you got the role thanks to your pretty face," Pauline says.
"Am I really that handsome?" Paul smirks. "Emma, what do you think? Am I as good as self-centered Darcy? I'm so sorry you're not playing Elizabeth! I really wanted your dream to come true."
I frown, puzzled. "What dream?"
"To kiss me," Paul says with a very serious expression on his face.
I burst out laughing.
"Much better," he says, winking at me. "Your smile is so charming. You should smile more often." His look is intense and there's so much warmth in his eyes.
"Thank you," I whisper shyly. To be honest, this year, my relationship with Paul got much better. I like having him around.
"No more vinegar faces, Pauline!" he adds, pinching my cheek. "Now, let's run girls. Or we're going to be late!"
We are lucky. Ferrar isn't paying any attention to us. She's discussing decorations with Adam. When Ferrar was choosing actors, she wanted Adam to join the team. But he said no to that and offered drawing decorations instead. He said it was the only thing he could do for the performance. Madame accepted it and now he was working under her precise control. Adam is a very talented artist; he knows how to fill his pictures with life. When we were in the first grade, he wouldn't stop drawing something in his workbooks instead of looking at the blackboard. Sometimes I felt jealous because he always knew what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Now he's working as an illustrator and makes money, participating in various projects. I still haven't decided what I want to do for a living. I love everything about make-up, but I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it to turn it into my profession.
"Pauline, Emma, Paul, it's time to get dressed!" Madame Ferrar shouts. "And if you think I haven't noticed your late arrival, you're wrong. You'll get a lower mark on your next English exam!"
Paul wants to argue with that but I grab him by the hand and pull him towards the dressing room.
"Theatre has nothing to do with her subject," Paul says.
"She's our homeroom teacher and she thinks everything she does for us is connected," Pauline says.
"If you started arguing with her, your English mark would be the lowest. Don't you know how it works?"
"He always says something without giving it a second thought," my friend says.
"All right, all right! I got your point! Go get changed before Ferrar comes back with more lectures." He walks into the changing room.
I catch Pauline by the hand and apologize for being rude to her. "I'm so sorry, dear. But when it comes to Adam, I can't think straight. I know you were right."
She hugs me and rubs my back gently. "You need to talk to him. Tell him about your worries and ask about his. Adam is a very honest guy; he'll tell you everything you want to know."
That is one of the reasons I love Pauline so much. She can't nurse a grudge for too long and neither can I.
Madame Ferrar shows up out of nowhere and starts shouting again. "Hey, you two! First, you're late for the rehearsal, and now I need to wait for you to get changed!" Her eyes are burning with anger.
Today is the final rehearsal before the performance. My costume is too tight and I can't zip it up. I can't breathe in it. But it fits me surprisingly well despite the terrible quality of a pale-green fabric and bad tailoring. It looks like one of those cheap dresses ordered on the Chinese website. Still, it's pretty. Especially if you don't look at the details.
"Madame Caroline Bingley, are you ready for the show?" Pauline asks, curtsying.
"Of course, Mrs. Bennet! I'm more than ready to give you imperious looks and enjoy feeling my excellence."
We start to giggle.
Suddenly, we hear a loud noise like something big just fell to the floor in the hall. We ran into the hallway, just like the entire class. Someone runs from the stage, others from the theatre. Everyone's worried. We're sharing glances, trying to realize what's going on. Suddenly, the door to the man's dressing room falls to the floor, with Paul and Adam following it in a fight.
"Again . . ." Pauline mumbles, rolling her eyes.
I want to come closer and stop them, but she wouldn't let me.
"Last time they hit your ribs. Remember? Leave them alone."
"How can you be so heartless? He's your brother!"
"My brother is an idiot. He does stupid things and gets black eyes for them. Which, by the way, is very fair in my opinion." She keeps holding me in place. "Leave them. They deserve each other."
Paul and Adam lost control. Both have blood on their faces and they keep crashing everything around them, while their fight continues. I'm terrified.
"Stop it!" Ferrar shouts at the top of her voice. "Jan, Luca, Bob, Pier," she turns to our classmates, "pull them apart!"
The guys run to Paul and Adam. Their first attempt to stop the fight fails, but the next one is a success.
"Have you lost your mind?" the teacher asks angrily. No response follows. Paul and Adam still look pissed.
Adam spits the blood into a trash can and Paul throws his head back, trying to stop the bleeding with a napkin.
"Looks like my brother's pretty face is not so pretty anymore." Pauline sighs. Her indifference makes me angry.
"Let me go," I say through my clenched teeth.
Her grip on my hand loosens. "You should thank me for saving your ribs," she says ironically.
I ignore her and walk up to Adam. His chin's bleeding; the red drops are falling onto his gray shirt.
"He broke your lip," I whisper.
"I broke his nose," he spits in response.
"Everyone to the stage!" Ferrar snaps and then adds, "Except for you three."
Our classmates rush to leave the hall. No one wants to be there when Ferrar's pissed.
"Emma has nothing to do with the fight," Adam says in a raspy voice.
"I didn't ask any questions," Madame snaps back. After a short pause, she asks, "So, what was the fight about?" The guys keep their mouths shut. Adam spits more blood and gives Paul an evil look.
"I'll ask her out anyway!" Paul says stubbornly.
Adam curses aloud; his fists are tightening. "Shut up," he hisses.
I'm sure they talk about me, so I decide to say, "I won't go anywhere with you, Paul."
Adam freezes and Paul smirks devilishly. "I want to ask Lili out and this bastard has some problem with that."
"Who started the fight?" Ferrar asks.
Another silent pause follows.
"Okay then, both will get what you deserve," she sums it up. "Stay here and do not dare to start another fight. I'll call the headmaster."
She leaves and the three of us stay alone in the hall. I'm still shocked and trying to wrap my mind around the news.
"You're a player. Everyone knows that. Which is why Adam doesn't want my step-sister to date you," I say in a trembling voice. My eyes search Adam's face. He lowers his head, obviously trying to avoid looking at me.
Adam's protecting Lili because she's my family now. I feel a little guilty for being mad at him.
"Do you really think she needs protection?" As if reading my mind, asks Paul. I turn my head to look at him; his green eyes are piercing and I don't know how to hide from them.
I shrug and mumble, "You love talking about your conquers."
Paul chuckles. "Not anymore. I'm not fifteen, Emma. Now everything's different."
"I know you're a good guy." I don't know why I feel like saying that. Paul's sad face is bothering me. This year, we've become really close, and I like spending time with him.
Adam frowns at my words.
Paul speaks again; his voice is low and gloomy, "But I'm not good enough to date your step-sister, obviously."
Suddenly, we hear Lili's voice. "Are you talking about me?" She comes closer; her surprised gaze is switching between Paul, Adam, and me. I can see an unspoken question in her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Paul asks as if nothing has happened. "Do they need fresh blood on the stage?"
Lili shrugs. "Our philosophy teacher sent me here to bring a flashcard with the music. Ferrar left it in the teacher's room."
"Okay, let's see . . ." Ferrar walks to us; the sound of her clip-clopping is loud and firm. She studies the guy's faces, turning their heads to the right and then to the left. Her face is emotionless as if she doesn't care about the fight or its aftermath at all. Not a single muscle moves on her face. "Does anything hurt? Your heads? Is anyone sick?"
The guys shake their heads in unison, responding, "No."
"Paul, you go to the doctor. It looks like your nose might be broken. Call me after they examine you. I'll be waiting for the report. Adam, you go home. You look fine. No need to go to the doctor. But tomorrow, I want your parents at the headmaster's office. He'll decide what to do with you—expel you or let you stay. If it was up to me, you two would be out in the blink of an eye."
"You're way too strict," Paul says jokingly. Ferrar gives him a warning look.
"Our headmaster is even stricter," she snaps. "Lili, have you brought the flashcard?"
Lili gives her the small thing.
"Thank you. Emma, go to the stage. We're running out of time," the teacher says tiredly.
"Adam," I call his name, not knowing what to say.
"I'm fine, Ems," he says calmly.
His shirt is covered with blood and his bottom lip is swollen.
Ferrar wouldn't let me say another word. "Emma, let's go," she repeats, irritated. "We'll talk about the rehearsal." She takes me by the elbow and pulls me away. Paul follows us. The napkin that he's using to stop the bleeding is all red.
"I'll be the first Mr. Darcy with a broken nose," he says self-satisfied.
"If you are not expelled, of course," Ferrar says in a cold voice.
I turn my head to look at Adam one more time. Lili comes closer to him; her eyes are roaming across his face. Her look is full of worry and compassion.
"Does it hurt?" she asks in a whisper, but I can't hear his response. We go to the stage and the sound of our steps is louder than my boyfriend's voice.