TO BE FRANK

CHAPTER SEVEN, a brave new world

     The next morning, Juliette was fortunate enough not to bump into Descamps at all. There's a hope kindling within her that she could keep this streak up for the rest of the term, perhaps even the rest of the school year at this rate.

     Juliette meets up with Annick as she locks her bike rack. This has been routine for them for the past few days, catching up after their weekend endeavors on Mondays, sharing what they ate for breakfast that morning (or lack thereof), and thoughts about the latest chapter they read about their newest assigned reading in their Literature class.

     The pair meet up with Simone and Michèle who were already talking in the courtyard mid-conversation about how long and laborious reading The Count of Monte Cristo was.

     "I don't think I was made to read a thousand page book about a prisoner who wants some island treasure," Simone whines, holding the heaping book in her hands as if it weighed the world. "I can't believe we only have two weeks to finish it before writing a report. It's corporal punishment if you ask me."

     "I'm sure Edward Dantes had it worse," Juliette jokes but only Annick found the quip funny as Simone only flutters her eyes at her unamused.

     "Don't you guys find it boring?" Michèle asks towards Annick and Juliette. They were the biggest readers out their group, after all.

     Juliette shakes her head, "not at all. Besides, it shouldn't be too bad if you read at least two chapters a day."

     "Half a chapter is more than enough for me," Simone laughs.

     "I've read worse," adds in Annick, "I honestly think it gets better after the first half."

     "I'm personally having a hard time understanding some of the dialogue, Juliette do you think you could—?" Michèle begins but Juliette's attention is taken over by a tuft of brown hair and a leather patch being the newest addition to his look.

     "Sorry, Michèle, hold that thought," Juliette says as she trudges her way towards Descamps' bench.

     Gravel crunched beneath her at each of her heavy steps as the girls watched her in brow-furrowing curiosity. His broad back came into view, facing Juliette as he was laughing at something Vergoux said when Dupin catches the fire in her eyes. He pokes Descamps, warning him of the fury that was slowly approaching him.

     Descamps turns over his shoulder, a smile forming upon his lips as he looks Juliette up and down.

     "The book, Descamps. Hand it over," she commands with an outstretched hand.

     "Book?" His brow furrows in faux confusion as he sticks his hand into his satchel. The familiar frame of the book, small and discrete, fits so perfectly in his nimble hands. "You mean this one?"

     Juliette swipes at it, but Descamps is too quick for her. He holds it over her head like a teasing game of cat and mouse. She reaches for it again, but Descamps only extends his arm up further and not-so-subtle guffaws exploded from his friends watching the scene take over. Juliette curses her small stature.

     She sighs. Her patience was waning quick. "Give it up, will you? I'm sure it's really not that funny."

     Descamps hums in amusement, lowering his arm, "no, it's still funny watching your sorry attempts to jump for your book. How was detention, by the way?"