THE ALGORITHM OF THE FORBIDDEN HEART

Chapitre 16

"It's better than nothing," I mumbled.

I crushed my cigarette under my foot, and Anja and I started running. We dashed across campus at full speed.

The closer we got to the building, the worse I felt. I didn't feel well; I was hypoglycemic (I hadn't eaten). The stress of the incident with Mercier, the cigarette, the run, and especially the empty stomach, all hit at once. My legs were heavy, my vision slightly blurred, but I pretended everything was fine. I didn't want to give Dona one more reason to worry, or to punish me.

We arrived in front of the room, breathless. We knocked on the door.

"Enter," replied Professor Vianelli's cold, authoritarian voice.

We walked in. The amphitheater was full. All eyes were on us.

Her tone was icy, her voice carried clearly throughout the room « Ms. Petrova, Ms. Müller, your lateness is unacceptable. In my class, you are either on time, or you don't come at all. This institution's time is not your personal time. »

The injustice and hypocrisy of the protocol, after the night we spent, exploded within me. I saw red.

I rebelled, without a filter.

"Oh, really, Professor Vianelli? It's easy to give lessons on punctuality when all you have to do is cross your own underground parking lot to get here! We, we had to cross the whole campus after the other class, without eating, just so we wouldn't miss your precious time!"

It was brutal. It was direct. It was a frontal attack aimed at her status and comfort, without mentioning the exact address.

The whole class yelled "Whoa!" when I clashed with Donatella. The sound was a mix of shock and amusement.

I knew I shouldn't have said it. I was testing her, and she knew it. I wanted to see if the academic etiquette would bend. I also knew I would be stubborn and that I would get at least two extra hours of detention for it.

But it was worth seeing her react like that in front of everyone.

Donatella's face turned to stone. Her black eyes pierced me. She was clearly shocked by my audacity, but she managed to maintain the mask of authority. She didn't explode, she didn't blush. She managed it.

Her voice was now so low it was more threatening than a shout « Sit down, Ms. Petrova. Sit down now. You will come see me at the end of the class. You have two hours of detention. No discussion. »

I went and sat down, my heart pounding, but with a bitter satisfaction. I had cracked the facade, even if it cost me dearly.

The two hours of class that followed the clash passed at breakneck speed. My mind was overloaded: the adrenaline of the confrontation, the hunger gnawing at me, and the anticipation of the confrontation to come.

Donatella expertly maintained her lecture, letting no emotion show. But every time I felt her gaze land on me, it was a taser.

At the end of the hour, she repeated the verdict in a neutral voice, as if announcing the subject of the next assignment.

"Ms. Petrova, you will come see me after class."

Tonight, I had one hour of detention. The initial detention for my rudeness. And tomorrow, two hours for the lateness and disrespect in class. Three hours of accumulated detention.

I packed my things, my heart heavy. I saw Anja give me a worried look, but I signaled her to stay out of it.

As I left the amphitheater, I passed another student who murmured the crucial detail: