CHAPTER TEN
win some or lose some
˚✧₊⁎
When October arrived without warning, the summer heat escaped them just as quickly as the early autumn chill seeped into their bones. It gripped the morning air in a tight fist with flushed noses and red-tinted cheeks. Just like that, a little more than a month had passed since the arrival of the girls at Voltaire High but it didn't feel as such—at least not to Juliette.
Time moved as slowly as a blurry picture, quick yet slow enough to capture just a mere glimpse of a posed figure.
The mindless drone of Simone and Michéle's conversation was lost in the chatter of the school courtyard as Juliette, distracted as ever, looked down at her watch. Annick should've been here by now. A sigh leaves her, condensing into a white puff of smoke into the chilly air.
Simone flickers a look over her shoulder for the umpteenth time this morning. She was looking at Jean-Pierre again, Juliette was sure of it. She was curious to what her friend's yearning looks were directed towards, but it was to no one's surprise after the fifth time she twisted her neck just to catch a glimpse of the senior. Cigarette smoke escaped his nostrils, his slick back hair as perfect as ever and clad in a freshly dry cleaned wool coat. Perhaps it was Juliette's natural instinct to follow Simone's gaze once more as when she does, a familiar tuft of blonde appears behind Jean-Pierre, trudging her way onto school grounds.
"You had me worried for a second," mutters Juliette as the smallest smile melts upon Annick's lips as a greeting.
"Ran into someone this morning."
"Who?"
"Some... man." Annick answers.
Juliette's eyebrows furrow slightly, "is it anything I need to worry about?"
To what she expects to be a pitiful laugh of her terrible means of a joke instead fell flat. Annick hesitates. Just for the briefest of seconds. It worries her.
"No."
Juliette doesn't believe it.
"Good," she says anyway.
˚✧₊⁎
Her heart thumped against her ribcage for some odd reason. Her nerves burned and her palms perspired as it has been all day. Today had been nothing but boring lectures and passed back test scores. All of Juliette's grades thus far have been above average, fortunately, and yet she can't help but feel the slightest bit nervous whenever her test papers lands upon her desk. The red grade taunted her in spite of it all.
18 in Douillard's, 16 in Giraud's, 20 in Couret's, and...
"Wonderful job, Mademoiselle Bellemare," Mr de Goff drops her tests on her desk, "17."
Her nerves eased then as her maths teacher moved onto his last two test sheets. She received one point higher than Descamps.
(Not that she was keeping track, anyhow.)
"And for the highest grade, mademoiselle Sabiani—19. And the same for Monsieur Laubrac. Well done, the both of you. Thankfully we have Mademoiselle Sabiani and Mademoiselle Bellemare to bolster the girls' average."
The rest of the school day moved at a snails pace. To what seemed like hours to Juliette was only thirty minutes in reality as they were nowhere near to being dismissed for break. Impatience surged through the girl like an antidote to a poison that raced through her arteries in a game of tag. She could not wait to get home, pour herself a cup of afternoon tea, and relax with a book in her hands.
Her typical routine consisted of this: Latin, history, maths, and French in the morning, followed by recess and lunch, then English, philosophy, and biology or PE to end off the day. She would then arrive home, care for her grandmother as she does homework, then nestle in bed with her latest read before falling into a deep slumber.
Though, it seems as if she was getting quite sick of it.
She looks back at the watch on her wrist. French class had only started ten minutes ago.
"As many of you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods of teaching. Next week, we will be trying a new approach," Mr Marcelin says as he continues to pass out papers, "you're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs."
Annick and Juliette immediately share a look.
"What if we're sitting alone?" Pichon says and laughter follows as it typically does when he speaks.
"Well, on a typical school year I would have you work with the classmate sitting next to you, but..." Marcelin drawn on as Juliette's hopeful shoulders stiffened. "Since we are trying something new, I have since randomly selected your partner to work on this exposé. How does that sound?"
Murmurs filled the stale school air, the rubbing of fabric from brushing shoulders, and flickering stares from across the room.
"I guess we can start off with you, Pichon," he cuts any hushed conversation short, "you will be working with Mademoiselle Sabiani."
"Oh, look! Pichon is blushing! He's turned pink like a pig," snickers Dupin from across the classroom.
"That's enough, Dupin." Mr Marcelin motions his hands as laughter fills the classroom just as Annick's hand shoots up, "yes, Mademoiselle?"
"Do we really have to work in pairs?" Annoyance laced her voice, disappointment followed along with it as she shoots another look towards Juliette.
"Well working in pairs and getting to know each other is the whole point of this assignment." Marcelin answers.
Juliette wonders then if he purposefully split the girls up to work with the boys.
"And I'm warning you," he says, raising a finger, "half a pair's work will result in half the grade. With that being said, shall I begin calling out pairs?"
It felt like she swallowed a rock whole the way her stomach dropped. All of a sudden Juliette's anxious fervor reignited within her bones and burned beneath her skin. Not even the ease of water nor ice could soothe the way her anxiety nipped at her skin raw.
"Dupin and Vergoux."
"Felbec and Applebaum."
"Palladino and Magnan."
So much for getting to know someone new, Juliette thinks.
"Belkacem and Laubrac."
"Sabiani and Pichon."
She wondered wrong, unfortunately. Rather, he purposefully split the two smartest girls in class to even out the playing field. She should be proud of that fact if she wasn't too worried about when her name will be called.
Her palms were sweating again. The one's Juliette were comfortable with (which was a pitiful four students) were already partnered. She already did not talk much in class, so having to forcefully interact with someone she has barely spoken a word to sent her fast beating heart into a frenzy.
"Descamps and Vasseur."
"Bellemare and Lamaziére."
Juliette stopped listening beyond that point. A few whispers filled her ears instead. She looked over her shoulder in the means to look for Lamaziére but instead she is met by Joseph's hardened gaze.
He looked far from amused. She wondered what got him annoyed, yet she does not delve deeper into his unreadable disposition as Lamaziére gives her a small wave and a smile.
Based on the past month of sharing a classroom with him, he seemed nice enough. Though his grades were more or less average, he was still passing and consistent in his schoolwork at the very least. That was all Juliette needed.
˚✧₊⁎
There was something satisfying about the way Lamaziére's beaming expression morphed into a certain flavor of fear when he catches Joseph Descamps approaching him during break. His steps, heavy and forceful, left a trail of embers behind him.
His expression held a simmering anger that leaked through his deadpanned, almost unamused disposition. With his hands stuffed into his brown suede coat and his eyepatch adorning the left side of his face, he looked more menacing than usual. Joseph really did look like a villain then and he liked the way it made others cower more than he'd like to admit. Vergoux and Dupin trailing by his sides most certainly helped his case, causing Lamaziére to stammer over his next words.
"Did you need something, Descamps?" he asks, voice shaky and most of all, confused at the sudden confrontation.
"I'd like it if you switched partners with me," he says, not bothering to beat around the bush.
"What?"
"For Marcelin's class. Switch partners with me." Joseph repeats, this time his words were heavily articulated with spitting venom.
Bewilderment filled Lamaziére's visage as he shakes his head, "No, why would I? I finally have a shot with Juliette by working on this presentation with her, why would I give her to you?"
Joseph's hands ball into fists within the pockets of his coat. His teeth gritted against each other as his jaw clenched. As if Juliette would even give Lamaziere the time of day out of all people. Not to mention he'd rather be partnered with the orphan Laubrac than work with the likes of Vasseur. Even if he was a nobody, at least Laubrac was competent—Descamps would give him that.
It irked him to the very center of his being, penetrating past the most superficial parts of his skin to the very marrow of his bones. Even if he was the last person Juliette would ever want to be partnered with, at least he had a lot more trust in himself being around her than any of the other scums in the classroom.
"Anyone with half a braincell would not want to work with Vasseur," Joseph comes up with his excuse fast. He's quite good at being called-out on the spot, he had come to realise, "but you seem to be good friends with him so I thought I'd spare both of us the headache."
"You want to be alone with Juliette too, don't you?" Lamaziére tests. "Well join the club Descamps, you're not the first."
Pig, Joseph thinks, I've been with her more times than you think.
He had never been one to brag about his endeavors outside of his close friends, and even then, Joseph would never spare Vergoux and Dupin any details of his time with Juliette. In spite of it all, he had never felt such a strong urge to rub that fact into Lamaziére's boastful face.
Although, in retrospect, Joseph was not quite sure why he was feeling so particularly possessive today.
His friends watch him carefully for his next move as he's quiet for a second, thinking for a better way to act than to throw a fist.
Instead, Joseph approaches Lamaziére closer, towering over the poor boy as his half-lidded eye burned holes into him.
"Bellemare is rather fond of me actually," he says, careful and calculated. "You forget how quickly rumours spread—this is a small school, after all. It would be a shame for her to find out that her partner is a perversive pig who forces himself onto girls, wouldn't it?"
Lamaziére's gaze hardens. Vergoux and Dupin give each other a curious look, smirks forming upon their faces.
"So you either tell Marcelin you would like to switch partners or have Bellemare do it after she finds out about your... secrets."
The boy before him nods, gulping down the lump forming in his throat as he excuses himself. Joseph watches as he briskly walks back into the school and disappears into the shadows of the building.
Joseph grins and revels that wonderful taste of accomplishment. A win.
When Juliette exits the makeshift girls' restroom, she is met with a worried looking Lamaziére who clutched his satchel in his arms. His pace was quick, as if he feared someone was chasing after him and he could not spare any time to look over his shoulder.
Confusion took over her features from her forehead wrinkling in lines to her lips in a pout.
"Are you alright, Lamaziere?" she asks just as he was about to speed past her.
His steps skid to a halt, turning over his shoulder quickly before looking back towards her. "Yes," he says rather fast.
Juliette nods, still confused. She figures she just needed to change the subject, perhaps distract him from whatever dilemma her partner found himself in. "If you're not busy, we can start working on the project today after school. We can work at the bookstore—"
"No!" he cuts the girl off, her shoulders jumping at the sudden exclamation as uneasiness filled his words. Now, something was definitely up with him. "I'm going to ask Mr Marcelin to let me switch partners."
"Why?"
Lamaziére shakes his head, "I prefer working with a friend. I'm not comfortable working with a girl. That's all."
Juliette's head tilts to the side, "Then who will be my partner?"
"Desca—I don't know, actually." He shrugs as he purposefully avoids her gaze.
"I'm confused, why—"
"I don't know, okay! Marcelin will probably tell you who your new partner will be in philo later today." Lamaziére interjects swiftly, he practically stumbles over his words.
"But—"
"I'll see you in class," he concludes as he finally walks away from Juliette, leaving her with more unanswered questions than ever before.
˚✧₊⁎
This entire school day was comical, Juliette has come to realise.
Joseph had been staring holes into the back of her head the entirety of Philosophy and she wanted nothing more than to swat him away like the pesky insect he was. She thought the weirdness ended there, but instead it continued past the class period as she packed her things to move to the science classroom.
Mr Marcelin asked for her to stay behind as she approached the door. The look of other students watching her stay by his desk was more than embarrassing but she pays them no mind.
Annick gladly waits for her in the hallway once the final few students trickle out the classroom. Lamaziére being one of them. He gives her a look and suddenly Juliette knew exactly what this was about.
"Does this have to do with the exposé, Monsieur?"
Marcelin nods, a sigh escaping him. "Just know it has nothing to do with you, Mademoiselle. Nothing personal at all. It's all due to some unfortunate circumstances that had led me to switch some partners around."
"With all due respect, sir, I think you should have just gone with seatmates to be partners. It would have been easier than way..." says Juliette as her eyes drift elsewhere.
"It is not a big deal, Mademoiselle Bellemare. I just wanted to let you know that you will now be partnered with Monsieur Descamps."
Juliette's wandering eyes snap back onto her teacher, widening at the news as dozens of thoughts flood through her mind. Of course, it had to be Descamps, who else knowing her luck?
"Does he know that?" She's sure he would not be happy with the news.
"He does, actually. According to Lamaziére, he and Descamps made an agreement before they informed me."
"What?" Her words breathless on shock.
Out of all people, why did Lamaziére go to him to switch partners? Aside from their near-tardiness that one September morning, the two of them barely interacted on school grounds. Lamaziére forging a connection between them did not make any sense. Unless, of course, it was the other way around.
"I am sure you two will work great together," he says with a smile before she leaves.
When Juliette enters the hallway, a massive storm cloud brewed above her head, thundering, and crying lightning. Come to think of it, she recalls the annoyance that drenched Descamps the moment partners were announced. His mood progressed throughout the day until lunch concluded and he was his merry self again. It was almost as if he received good news that reversed his terrible temperament right after she and Lamaziére spoke. Juliette feigns from thinking out loud as her pulse quickened at the thought.
Friendship was never a confusing ordeal for Juliette. She did only have a handful after all, and even if she weeded out the one's closest to her, she would only have a whopping three individuals she considered her closest friends. Yet the thought of her and Descamps' friendship was far from simple.
He was an irritating itch she couldn't get rid of. A hindrance to a peaceful classroom that was not filled with pranks border-lining the act of bullying—the boy who stole one of her most prized possessions. She should hate him, she really should. The version of her even a month before the start of the school year would roll her eyes at her current situation.
Joseph Descamps is the bane of Juliette's existence, so why would she find their occasional interactions so enjoyable?
"What did he say?" Annick asks.
The two trudged down the hallway in unison, their heels clicked in sync to a rhythm of a strange frustration. She should be angered he went behind her back, yet oddly enough, relief filled her instead. That was the most frustrating part.
"Descamps is my new partner for French. Lamaziére wanted to switch."
"What?" She exclaims in a similar tone as Juliette from earlier.
All she could do is simply nod as they descended down the steps to the ground level.
"It seems as if I keep losing today." Or should she consider that a win?
AUTHOR'S NOTE !
here's a shorter chapter, but yay another update !!
wattpad has literally been my main opp as of late as it first, didnt publish my last chapter properly and second, has been messing up my chapter layouts. get ur shit together pls omg.
i haven't been proud of my recent writings lately, so once again thank you for your lovely comments and votes! they truly mean a lot :))
— fei.