The sixth sense

Chapter 17

LILI

As always, Gerome and I meet at six in the morning.
"Good morning," he says with a wide smile on his face.
"Morning," I reply, yawning and stretching. I didn't get a wink of sleep at night.
I trip over Adam's shoes and Gerome catches me before I fall to the floor.
"You look a little tired, Lili. Are you sure you wanna go for a run today?"
"Positive," I say, giving the damn sneakers an evil glance.
"It's not their fault," Gerome notes, smirking.
Wordlessly, I take out a pair of iPods and he frowns. It's the first time I'm being so rude to him.
"I need some music today," I mumble.
Gerome nods. "No problem, I'll take mine too."
I smile gratefully. We leave the apartment, walk down the stairs, and then out into the street.
Running sets me free and I feel as alive as never. The sun is rising slowly, making funny shadows dance on the road. I speed up; my sneakers hit the asphalt, and the wind starts playing with my hair. I feel like I'm flying in the air and the feeling is amazing. I stop for a moment and take a deep breath, feeling a metal taste in my mouth. I love this feeling! Max Richter's 'Spring' is bouncing in my ears. I look at the quay, enjoying the beauty of the song and Paris. There's a lump of pain and regret inside my soul. I close my eyes, trying to feel the peacefulness of the moment. It's not as easy as it seems. Still, I try to focus on the good. The air smells like spring and flowers; the sunrays kiss my skin and warm it up. Gerome stands behind me and suddenly wraps his arms around me. The gesture is full of care. I open my eyes and feel tears pooling in my eyes. He smiles at me and winks as if saying everything's gonna be all right. Like never before, I want to believe him.
When we come back home, the entire family is having breakfast in the kitchen. Adam's sitting next to Emma, a little shattered and sleepy. She's telling him something, waving her hands; the sun is breaking through the curtains, filling the room with the morning light. Her golden hair shines; soft blush on her cheeks makes her look a little naïve, and her childish smile turns her into a little girl, cute and funny. Adam looks thoughtful and distracted. He's not listening to her at all. Emma's trying her best to attract his attention and touches him every second or so, running her palm down his forearm, patting on his shoulder, or playing with his hair.
"You can slick your hair back with a gel like most stylish hipsters do." She laughs loudly and seeing me walk into the kitchen, asks, "What do you say, Lili? Will it fit him?"
I force a smile and try to play it cool. "I think it'll be perfect," I say, looking at anything but them.
"Good morning," Mom says, giving me a cup.
She looks happy too. Living with Gerome looks good on her. I take a seat, facing Adam, and he looks anywhere but me.
"You look tired," Emma says to me. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did . . . you two were surprisingly quiet last night," I can't help saying that.
Emma chuckles but Adam doesn't comment on that.
"You look much better today," I say to him, unable to hold back my words. "The bruise's getting darker. But in general, you look okay. Not as broken as yesterday."
Adam turns his head and gives me a long look. "It's because I slept like a baby," he says emotionlessly.
I feel my cheeks redden and look down.
"It's for the best. You need to look and feel good for the meeting with the headmaster," Emma jokes uneasily.
"With the headmaster?" Mom asks. "What did you do, Adam?" She's slicing bread and can't see Emma's face flushing.
"Nothing serious." Emma is a terrible liar. "He needs to sign some papers for the university." Her cheeks flush even harder. "By the way, Lili," she turns to me, twitching a napkin nervously. "Paul wanted to ask you out and I thought . . ."
Mom won't let her finish the line. "Who's Paul?" she asked curiously and joins us at the table.
"Our classmate," Emma replies, smiling at the successful change of subject. "He's cool!"
"So cool Adam broke his nose yesterday," I add, making Emma give me a disapproving look.
Mom's eyebrows rose in surprise.
Adam leans against the back of his seat.
"She's kidding, Amelia!" Emma's trying to fix the situation.
I look at Adam's fists; they're red and scratched.
"Aren't you afraid of breaking your hand?" I continue to test his patience. I'm immensity angry at him. I know I'm acting like a child now, but I can't control my emotions.
"I am," he responds firmly. "But sometimes people do stupid things, don't they? First, they do them, and then thinking about them." His last words are being said with a frown.
"I need to take a shower," I say, standing.
"Lili, wait," Emma says. "I was trying to suggest a double date! You, Paul, Adam, and I. What do you say?"
"Not in a million years," Adam snaps angrily.
"Why not?" I retort.
Mom switches her gaze between us but decides to stay out of it. She stands too and follows me out of the kitchen.
"What was that about, Lili?" she asks in a whisper, closing the door to my room so that no one could hear our conversation.
"What do you mean?"
"It looks like you hate Adam."
I'm surprised to hear that conclusion. "Mom, I don't hate him," I say, kissing her cheek.
I don't hate him, Mom. I love Adam, I think, standing in the shower. Which is why I can't control myself when around him.
***
We're at school, waiting for Adam's parents to arrive. The sunny weather contrasts with my mood.
"You won't be expelled," Emma says to him, squeezing his hand. "Don't worry."
"Seriously, Emma, it's the last thing I can think about now," Adam says, breathing out another cloud of cigarette smoke.
Emma frowns, trying to read his face. But he turns away from her stare.
"I can see how nervous you're. But I'm sure the headmaster will ask you to pay for the broken door and be with it."
Adam takes another pull at his cigarette and says in a quiet but firm tone, "We can wait in silence."
I don't want to be with them now. Especially, when the air around us is crackling with tension. I see Cecil cross the road and I'm so glad to see her again.
"I need to say 'hi' to someone," I say, running towards her. Listening to Emma and Adam having it out isn't the most enjoyable thing in the world.
"Hey," I say shyly to Cecil.
Her lips twitch in a friendly smile. "It's been a while. How are things in a new school going?"
"Good. But I wish I had your phone number. I wanted to ask you to share lunch with me, but didn't know how to call you."
"Give me your phone and I'll type it down," she says kindly.
I take my smartphone from the bag and give it to her.
"What happened in the theatre yesterday?" she asks curious and gives the phone back to me.
"Paul and Adam had a fight. Their parents were told to come to see the headmaster. Ferrar threatened to expel them. They broke the door to the dressing room," I said quickly with no desire to focus on the details.
Cecil smirks and her eyes fill with joyful sparks. "If Ferrar were a headmaster, she would have expelled everyone and there would be no one here to attend the damn classes. But I don't think guys will be expelled. It's almost the end of the school year. They should let them stay in this fabulous place." She laughs. "Besides, it's not their first fight. They'll always find something to fight over."
"Adam broke Paul's nose," I say, shrugging. "I don't think the headmaster will let it go easily."
"Paul will say he tripped and fell down, face first. You'll see. He'll never admit it was Adam's fist that ruined his pretty face."
I try not to show my emotions. "I don't care."
When the truth is, on the way to school, I couldn't think about anything but the upcoming meeting with the headmaster. Despite how much I'm angry at Adam, I don't want him to be in trouble. A sore, guilt feeling envelopes my soul. According to Emma, I was the reason for the fight. I didn't want it, and I still believe everyone should get what they deserve. I don't want to be the reason for Adam's expel.
Cecil speaks again, "Look! Paul and his parents have arrived. It's always so funny to watch parents in situations like this. Moms will never stop worrying about their kids or lecturing them for their misbehavior. When dads won't stop looking at their watches, bored by the entire scene. I'm sure the only thought in their heads is, 'Can't wait for this nightmare to end.' I think they're tired of lectures more than their offspring are."
"It's because they have heard the same things many times, thinking, 'Oh, hell, not that shit again. I've been there too when I was eighteen'. 
Cecil laughs. "You're so right!"
Paul's parents are not an exception. His father looks clearly bored. No doubt, he wants to run away from here as soon as humanly possible. Mom gives Paul a judgmental look and keeps lecturing him. They come closer to us and Paul graces us with his best smile. His nose is okay, with a small bandage on the bridge. He raises his chin proudly as if he were a boxing champion.
"Good morning, ladies!" he says to us cheerfully.
His mom rolls her eyes. "You're such a fool," she mumbles, dissatisfied. I can barely hide my smile. "You should pray for the headmaster to let you stay and graduate or you'll be punished, I swear."
Paul makes a face and says with all the innocence he can put into his voice, "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll be fine."
Mom sighs and throws another portion of threats at him, "My dear son, you're the one who should be worried today! You broke the door! And just look at your nose! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to have your nose broken? It can affect your breathing!"
"Celine, darling, don't worry," his father says. Looking at his son, he adds, "Watch your tongue, young man."
Paul's face is something between bored and irritated but he bites his tongue and says nothing. Instead, he smiles at Cecil and me and bowing his head ceremonially, says, "Sorry, ladies. I need to go."
"Always a clown," his mother hisses but I can see a barely visible smile on her lips.
Cecil and I smirk and Paul says, "Lili, don't forget about tonight's date!"
"No sane girl will ever go on a date with you," his mom retorts.
Paul laughs. "No wonder kids are so insecure these days!"
"How dare you to have fun of me!" Celine flares.
Paul's father speaks again, "Stop it, son." He looks at the school fence and sighs. "Hope it doesn't take long or I'm gonna miss an important meeting."
With those words said, they walk through the gate.
Cecil grabs my hand, asking, "What date was he talking about?"
"It's a long and complicated story," I say, hoping she won't want to hear the details. I look away from her and see Adam and his parents. Mom's studying him for injuries, saying something in rapid Italian. Adam's her exact copy, except for his height. He took it from his father.
"Italian mothers are different," Cecil says. "I doubt Paul's mother studied his nose so precisely."
"Adam stayed for the night with us. I'm sure as soon as she knows he's fine, she'll start lecturing him."
"Yeah, you're most likely right."
The bell's ringing. Cecil and I cross the road and go to Emma.
"I'll need to stop by the headmaster's secretary's office to sign some papers," Cecil says to her. "Maybe I'll be able to find out something about Adam."
"That would be great! I know they won't be expelled but I'm still nervous."
"Everything's gonna be fine," Adam says and reaches into his backpack for a water bottle.
Something goes wrong because the contents of his backpack scatter all over the ground. He crouches, and cursing under his breath, begins to put everything back into the backpack. The wind catches a few papers from his folder and takes them away. Emma runs after them. Then something falls from his history workbook and I think it's a bookmark. The wind takes it away too. Adam tries to catch it but he fails and the bookmark lands right at my feet.
I look down at it and freeze.
It's not a bookmark but the pictures he and I took in a photo cabin. In Italy. In Rome. I remember walking down the street and seeing the cabin. I pulled Adam there and he then took the pictures that were taken there. They're black and white too. Four small pictures. In the first one, we don't even know we're being pictured. Which is why we look a little puzzled. In the second one, we laugh. And in the third one, we kiss. In the fourth one, we get lost in that kiss.
I look up and meet Adam's stare. I'm dying to ask why is he caring those pictures in his backpack. But his look is full of so many unsaid things. I can feel goosebumps running up and down my back and my pulse accelerates.
"I got most of them!" Emma says, breathing heavily.
I step on the 'bookmark' to hide it.
"Thanks," Adam says to her, and without looking at her, he takes the papers she gathered.
Everyone goes to school but I stay still, pretending to be checking on my phone. When everyone's gone, I take the pictures and folding them in half, shove them into my pocket.
"I'm not late!" Pauline screams and I almost jump out of my shoes. My heart's beating fast and I can't calm down. "I have seventeen time lags this month because punctuality and I are nowhere in the same line," she says, smiling.
"I saw your parents with Paul," I say to fill in the uneasy pause.
She nods.
"I didn't go home last night because of that idiot! I care about my mental health, you know? Mom was furious! And I'm so tired of my brother's stupid escapades!" she complains. Then she takes a deep breath and screams, "Emma!"
My step-sister stops abruptly and seeing Emma, starts running towards her. "I was scared you would never show up! I texted you hundreds of times! What the hell happened to your phone?"
"It died. Why?"
Emma gives me a shy look and bites on her lip, mumbling, "The Italian girl . . . she came to Paris."
Pauline's eyes grow in size. "How do you know that?"
"Adam told me," Emma responds shortly and gives me another side look.
"What did he say about her?"
Emma lowers her head and whispers, "He was going to break up with m—"
Pauline takes her by the hand and says to me, "Sorry, Lili, but we need to talk in private." She sounds so worried as if something terrible is happening.
I stay alone and try to wrap my mind around what I just heard. Obviously, the two of them need to discuss something that I'm not supposed to hear. Though I don't really care about their secrets. I'm glad they are gone because my hands are still shaking and my breathing is still rapid. I was lucky Emma didn't see the pictures.
In the middle of the first class, I receive a text from Cecil. "From what I've heard, Adam and Paul won't be expelled. Their parents paid for the broken door. And the guys are punished until the end of the year and have to stay at school after classes for one hour daily. Will you send this to Emma? I don't have her phone number."
I resend the text to Emma. She reads it and smiles.
"Thanks, Cecil," I type in response.
I feel relieved, though I'm still angry at Adam for his recklessness. Did he even think about the consequences of caring our pictures in his backpack? What would he do if Emma saw them? How could he keep them so close to her!
The guys return to join us for the second class. Adam's eyes are drilling mine but I pretend not to notice him at all. After the class is over, he walks to me, saying, "Can we speak for a moment?"
"No," I snap, taking my bag from the chair.
"Give me the pictures," he whispers.
"Never." I try to pass by him but he catches me by the elbow.
"They are mine."
"I lost them," I say loudly.
Paul, Emma, and Pauline stare at us, puzzled. I'm sure they want to know why we're acting weirdly and whispering right in the middle of the classroom. I pull my hand out of Adam's grip and leave.
I run to the ladies' room and lock myself in one of the cabins. Then I pull out the forded pictures and look at them with my heart beating wildly in my chest. I still remember Adam carefully putting them in his folder the other day. Sometimes he did something small but it touched my heart with how much attention and care he did that. I decide to put them into my red notebook. Because it's a perfect place for another memory of him . . .
***
The double date is scheduled for six in the evening. The clock on the wall says it's almost six, but I still need to get dressed. I don't want to leave the room and go on that stupid date.
"Lili, we're leaving!" Emma shouts from her room and I sigh. I'll put on jeans and a shirt.
Emma doesn't comment on my look. Adam isn't looking at me at all. When we leave the house, we see Paul, waiting for us. He's smiling broadly at us.
"Lili, you look amazing," he says with a chuckle.
"Too bad I can't say the same about you," I retort with sarcasm.
He raises his hand in a high-five manner. "Touché!"
I roll my eyes.
"We still have time to catch the lucky hour!" obviously changing the subject, says Emma. "Who wants a cocktail?"
Paul is the only one to respond with the same enthusiasm. We walk down La Motte-Pike Avenue. There're two cafes at the end of it and both are packed.
"Why don't we go to Turville?" Paul asks. "I like it more."
"Okay," Emma agrees.
Adam and I share a look. Emma pushes a lock of hair behind one ear.
"Why don't you guys announce a truce?" she says to Adam and Paul. "Otherwise, the night will be endless."
But the guys stay quiet and I feel sorry for Emma. She's really trying to turn this stupid date into something good.
Which is why I decide to come to her rescue and ask, "What's that?" I point to the massive building across the road. It stands out, compared to the rest of the buildings there.
Paul speaks, "It's a military school."
"It's beautiful," I comment.
Paul shrugs. "Just like everything else in Paris."
Another tensed pause follows.
"Napoleon graduated from that school," Adam says.
I look into his eyes and I can't help my next words, "Seven interesting facts about Napoleon?"
Adam looks surprised by my question. Of course, it was unexpected. He thinks for a moment before saying, "Napoleon, or Nebulae, was born in Corsica in 1769. At the age of eight, he went to Champagne to attend his first school. Other kids often laughed at him because of his Italian accent. Maybe that's why he was so touchy and never trusted people he met. He never had friends, not a single one . . . except for his family—seven brothers and sisters. He was good at math and it helped him start his career in the artillery branch. He also started a new trend in fashion: he turned the wide side of a bicorne to his face. What else can I say? Napoleon was a fierce and heartless ruler. The kingsmen shooting, the execution of a thousand prisoners during the Egyptian campaign. He always demonstrated what he was capable of and everyone was scared of him. But he turned France into a great country. He came up with the idea of streets numerology. We still live in accordance with the civil law that he created. He opened the first middle school and the first lyceums." Adam's words were said in one breath. It always amazed me how much he knew about everything!
"Wow, I didn't know anything of the above!" Pauline exclaims. "History is such an interesting thing!"
I look at Adam, dying to embrace him. To lean closer and say, 'I still remember everything you told me about Italy. I still remember every kiss you gave me, every square you showed me, every sculpture, and every building you told me about'.
Maybe he can read it in my eyes. His look is like a silent response. It says he remembers everything too, every small detail.
Suddenly, a loud noise breaks the air. Everyone turns their head to the source of it. Curses followed the noise and everyone starts 'ohing'.
"Stop him! He took my bag!" a woman screams.
A weird feeling paralyzes me. Her scream echoes in my ears. I'm too short to see what's going on behind the crowd. Everyone's trying to see the reason for her screaming. Then the crowd steps aside and I see a huge man, running right at me. A part of his face is covered with a scarf. He's so tall!
"Stop him! Catch him!" the woman keeps screaming. But no one dares to stand in his way. People start to step back and those who didn't have time to walk away are being pushed so hard, they fall to the ground. The man's holding an expensive bag in his hand. I stare at his big hand, holding the stolen thing, at his black scarf, and his short hair. I can't move as if I'm rooted to the spot.
The man keeps running. I can see him approach me and the feeling of terror inside me intensifies. I can't close my eyes or step aside. I keep watching him run. I know if he tries to push me, he'll most likely hurt me. But the realization won't let me gain control over myself. I start to panic. My breathing catches and my heart begins to race.
"Lili!" Emma shouts and I know the man is about to hit me hard with his body. The fear is paralyzing, making a lump form in my throat. Adam pulls me away, but the man pushes him hard. Still holding me, Adam flies to the round tables behind us. People jump from their seats. The tables and the chairs fall and break. I'm shocked and terrified. The scar on my hand starts to hurt with a new intensity. I touch my palm as if it's bleeding again. At least this is how I feel now. I move away from Adam, completely at loss. I take a deep breath and then let it out slowly. I just need to breathe some more air. My chest is full of pain. My heart keeps racing. My skin covers with a cold sweat and I begin to tremble.
This isn't happening again. This isn't happening . . .
"Lili," Adam says in a whisper and leans closer to me. He carefully catches my hands and rubs them gently. The scar still hurts. I'm trying to pull my hands out of Adam's. But he wraps his fingers around them, whispering, "It's okay."
I let him hold my hands. My eyes are focused on his. There's so much warmth in his brown look. I try to focus on his face and touches. I lose a track of time. All I want now to melt in Adam and the warmth, coming from him. Slowly, the pain fades away. Adam's finger runs up my palm. It's so soothing, but still not enough to calm me down. I feel the lack of air in my lungs. He puts my palms together, forming a cup, and puts it to my mouth.
"Breath, Lili. In out, in out."
I obey and breathe into my palms. Adam's kneeling in front of me; his voice is soft and steady. I lower my head and try to take another deep breath.
"Eyes on me, Lili," he says and I drew a sharp breath and look up at him again.
"You're safe."
His voice is calm; his eyes search my face. He sits down next to me and pulls me onto his lap. I'm still trying to catch my breath. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
Adam touches my hair, whispering, "I'm here. I'm with you."
I close my eyes and let my feelings take me away. His heart is beating steadily and I focus on it. My breathing becomes normal again.
"Good girl. In out, in out, remember?" he keeps whispering.
His voice is creating an invisible cocoon around me, shielding me from the outside world. I put my hand down, taking more deep breaths.
"It works," I whisper back and he softly touches my face with his palm.
"Just breathe," he says.
"Shall we call the ambulance?" Emma asks in a trembling voice.
I don't think she needs it," Adam replies. "Better take her home and call her parents."
I turn my head and catch Emma's worried look. She's sitting close to us. I didn't hear her coming that close. I forgot about her existence at all. I can also feel the crowd staring at me. I feel uneasy and shy. I try to hide my face with my hair, sheltering myself from everyone's looks.
"Was it a panic attack?" Emma whispers, puzzled.
"It most likely was," Adam responds.
I want to move away from him, but the shatters of glass, plates, and plastic are everywhere around us. Everything fell from the tables and crashed. Paul gives me his hand and pulls me up in one fast move.
"Thank you," I say to him.
"Are you okay?"
I shake my head. The question is absurd and pointless.
"Let's go home, Lili," Emma says, taking me by the elbow.
I turn my head and give Adam one last look. He stood up too. His clothes are covered with dust and there's a long scratch on his forearm.
"You're bleeding!" I say, scared.
Emma stops abruptly. "Where?" She runs to him and examines his wound. "We need to disinfect it. Let's go home."
"I'll call Uber and take care of the wound," Adam says, reaching for his phone. "Take care of Lili," he adds, avoiding making eye contact with her.
Emma tries to protest. "Adam . . ."
He sighs tiredly. "Just do what I tell you to do, okay?"
Emma purses her lips in a tight line and nods. "Text me when you get home."
"Okay, Emma. May I use the toilet?" he asked the waiter of the nearby café.
"Of course," the guy responds and Adam walks into the café without saying goodbye to us. Emma's upset look follows him.
The waiter lifts one of the fallen chairs and looks at me. "Do you want some water, mademoiselle?"
"No, thank you," I say in a barely audible voice.
"Let's go, Emma," Paul says. "I'll accompany you to your place."
She takes my hand wordlessly and pulls me up the street.
"It was terrible," she mumbles and I nod in agreement.