SAY MY NAME - [J. DESCAMPS]

TEN

"Every weekend ? Dear, we only saw you once or twice in a year."

My father and I shared a puzzled look, while my mother still didn't showed any signs of anger, although I knew very well that she was beyond pissed.

"Anyway," Marie said. "We're so happy that you have returned to Saint-Jean permanently, Rose. That boarding school wasn't a good idea, was it Thierry ?" she asked my father while she took a bite of her meat. "She's way better in Jean's school—"

And that's when my mother's nerves snapped, discreetly though, but my father and I didn't missed it. She suddenly put down her fork, the metal crashing against her plate in the process doing a strange and unpleasant sound.

"That meal is exquisite, Marie," my mother smiled. "You have to give me the recipe !"

"Oh.. Really ? It's nothing extraordinary, though," Jean's mother laughed, although no one missed the blush that creeped onto her cheeks, betraying her fake modesty.

Of course it's nothing extraordinary. You're juste venturing yourself on a subject my mother hates...

The conversation took another turn, the weird tension that had settled instantly fading away because of one of the stupid jokes my father loved to do, and everyone eventually forgot about me and my "permanent return to Saint-Jean".

As the adults started to talk about something else, Jean was telling me about some story that happened at his cousin's house last summer, while I was playing with what remained in my plate with my fork, not really listening to him, since I couldn't stop thinking about what happened earlier.

Antoine. Descamps had met Antoine. I couldn't believe this happened and yet, it was only a few hours ago.

As soon as Antoine had turned on his heels, his very explicit sentence still hanging in the air, I had immediately chose to flee, ignoring Descamps' voice calling out for me in the middle of the street. But not because I was ashamed or embarrassed by Antoine's stupid behaviour. At least it was not the only reason.

No, it was because I didn't wanted him to see me cry like a little girl.

If there was someone I hated more than I hated Descamps, it must be Antoine. For a lot of reasons, but one of the principal one was that he was an absolute monster. If I had to leave Georges Sand, it was mostly because of him and the bad, bad words that came out of his mouth. He talked too much. He lied too much, too well.

I was still upset with the way he brought up Louise's case in front of Descamps, clearly mocking me for our wasted friendship, as if he wasn't the one who ended it with his vicious manoeuvring.

The only thing I could do at that very moment was pretend. Pretend to not care. Pretend to be happy. Pretend to be Descamps' girlfriend or whatever idea that had crossed my mind at that time.
But I've clearly failed.

My smile had froze, my laugh sounded fake and I wasn't even talking about how I've suddenly decided to wrap my arm around Descamps', who had stiffened unnaturally on his spot... Antoine must have noticed it, otherwise he wouldn't have... said that.

You should ask your girlfriend what kind of friends we were.

It was at this very moment that my eyes had started to gather water, and I had only one second left to turn my head and leave before Descamps could notice it. And that's what I did. I was grateful he didn't followed me in the street, though.

Of course he didn't followed me, why would he do that ? He hates me.

God, this really wasn't how I've pictured that evening when my mother had announced me this morning that we were having dinner at Jean's...