I woke up two minutes before my alarm clock rang. I guess I must have been really nervous. I couldn't recall any of my dreams. I usually remembered them, so I had some weird feelings. They must have been kinda strange...
After showering, I got dressed in the simple clothes I had chosen, and, despite the skull earrings and the fishnet fingerless gloves, I didn't look to scary. Or perhaps I did, but I couldn't judge very well any more. I let my long, wavy voluminous dark red hair free, and put some black eye-liner on to enhance my emerald eyes. Eventually I went down and found Coralie having breakfast. Or rather, seeming to have breakfast.
"Do you really think two breakfast rusks and a cup of coffee will be enough, Aunt Coralie ?" I had to ask. She had a delightful laugh, and putting a lock of her honey-blonde hair behind her ear, she answered that she'd have lunch early and had to save some appetite. I must have looked very sceptical, for her cheeks reddened a bit. She was almost thirty and still seemed so childish. But that made her charm, and that was why everyone liked her – me included.
"Let's go darling !" she said before I could sit down and have some of her breakfast rusks. "We'll stop at a café and you'll get a croissant and a cup of something. You couldn't get full with what I have here. Do you have your school bag ?"
I rushed up and got my bag, my purse and ran down. Two minutes later we were in Coralie's shining car. She stopped next to a coffee-house and I had a very French breakfast, with some pastries, jam, an orange juice and coffee.
At quarter to eight we were at the school, and Coralie, after giving me a kiss on the forehead, drove away to her work. I looked at the tall gate and went in. In France school starts at eight, but the gate is already open at quarter to eight. I entered the school yard, somewhat tense. People looked at me and then began to chat again with their friends. I looked around to see if there were any people who looked as thought they could help me. And then I saw her. She wasn't really the discrete kind. Actually, I think, she looked even more remarkable than me in my whole eccentric Victorian outfit.
A pink comb. Her hair was almost totally shaved off on the sides of her head, and on the top of her head stood this high, shocking pink comb. She wore very heavy spiky shoes, some tight black jeans, a belly-less sleeveless pink tee-shirt, pink fingerless gloves and had piercings everywhere : on her navel, on her ears, one on a brow and I was sure she had one on her tongue. Seeing I glared at her, she smiled and waved. I stood hesitantly in the middle of the school yard, so she came to me, not at all bothered by her seemingly very heavy shoes. She actually was taller than me, and I came to think that I was only tall in Belfast and not in Paris.
"Hi there !" she said in French. "I'm Rose and you ?"
I looked a her, puzzled. Did that mean I could have come dressed with a corset etcetera ? Then I figured out standing there wasn't very polite, so I answered in French.
"I'm Leila, nice to meet you. I arrived in France yesterday." It was actually really awkward.
"Come, I'll show you where you have to go." She took my hand and dragged me to a notice board. She looked at it for a minute. "Is you last name Crow, Leila ?" I nodded. "Oh that's so cool ! Crow is really a brilliant name !" I smiled, perplexed. What was with this girl, talking loudly, smiling all the time ? Weird...
"So, you're in the Première Littéraire Trois, like me... And Max !" Her cheeks went a little pink, and I guessed that she had some interest in that guy. I wondered if he was rather casual or more of a Punk, like her. I'd soon see.
"What are your options ?" she asked me, changing the subject. I seemed to look very puzzled, for she had to laugh. "You came to France not knowing the system ? Do you know what the literary track is ?" As I didn't seem to understand, she explained to me that in French secondary school there were three years. The first year took all subjects together, but at the end of this year you had to choose a filière, a track. In order to make it easier for me – it was complicated enough – she told me that there were four tracks : the scientific one, the social-sciences one, the technological one and the literary one, which was the one I chose. I had never chosen anything, but Aunt Coralie had apparently done the choosing for me. And she had chosen right, for what I knew of this system. I still didn't know what options, that is obligatory and optional subjects, were but Rose explained that it the literary track, one had to chose two languages and an obligatory option, which could be a third modern language, art, maths, first language again, which I didn't understand, Greek or Latin. And one could have one or two optional subjects in addition to those amongst the subjects not chosen. I hoped Coralie knew what she had chosen.
The school bell rang and Rose pushed me into the building. I tripped over the step, but she caught hold of me. We ran through the long corridor and up the stairs, to room 24, where our class, the Première L Trois, Second-grade L Three, hat to gather. While we waited for the teacher, I looked at the other teenagers. They didn't seem too unpleasant. Rose sighed. I guessed it was because her Max wasn't there yet.
The teacher arrived at last and my new friend almost whined.
"Oh no, not Monsieur Chou-fleur..." she complained. Why did they nickname the teacher "Cauliflower", I wondered. But not for very long : the man, who was searching for the key of the classroom, had a large amount of white, voluminous, curly hair, on the top of his thin, pale and wrinkled face, which really made me think of cauliflower. I had to muffle a laughter and Rose joined me. We both entered the room brightly smiling.
When the teenagers had all sat down, the crooked old man said in French :
"Good morning, dear students, I'm your French and Literature teacher, Monsieur Golinski. I will now pass this list round, and you will check that you are registered in the obligatory and optional subjects you chose."
Rose and I sat in the first row, so we got the list first. My languages were English and Russian. Why should I ever want to learn Russian ? I scolded Coralie mentally, but, as usual, I decided to trust her : she certainly had her reasons. I then checked my obligatory option. Theatre. That was more like it : I loved acting, it was all my life ! But then I moaned in annoyance... Coralie had also chosen an optional subject : Greek. Why Greek ? Ancient languages weren't of any use.
Rose gave the list to the next students.
"My languages are English and German and my obligatory subject is Maths as special field. You'll have to survive without me in Russian, Theatre and Greek. Will you ?" she smiled. But then she looked so concerned I almost thought she was serious. I had to reassure her before she told me it was a joke.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and, without waiting for an answer, the door opened. The strangest boy entered the room : he had a totally shaved head, except for two green hair-lines on each side, over the ears. He was dressed all in black, had half a dozen visible piercings and the same shoes as Rose. Her face brightened the instant he entered.
"He's Max, isn't he ?" I whispered in her ear. She nodded, not really surprised that I had read through her.
The teenager, not even apologizing for his lateness, went directly to our table, and kissed a very surprised Rose.
"Rose, I had promised myself to declare my love to you today. That's why I'm late."
Then, suddenly, a bunch of pink roses appeared in his hand. I supposed he had hidden it in his cloak-like coat. (A coat ? With this heat ?)
"Will you be my girl-friend, Rose ?" he added finally.
Her cheeks weren't pink any more. They were bright red.
"Of course." she whispered. And all the other teenagers, who had held quiet while Max was declaring his love, broke into applause. I joined, glad for this very new friend.
The teacher had to have a loud coughing fit for the students to recall that he was there. Max apologized at least a hundred times, turning bright red too. Leaving the bunch of roses on Rose's table, he sat down on one of the empty seats.
The elderly teacher explained a lot of stuff, gave us loads of papers to have signed by tomorrow by parents or legal tutor (that would be Coralie), our timetables, and let us free.
"Well, lessons only start tomorrow." Rose announced, filling her somewhat torn bag with the papers. "What will you do till then ? You've just arrived, so you're not likely to have friends here in Paris, am I wrong ?" She really had a thing for talking fast, a lot and without breathing.
"You're right, I don't have friends in Paris, except for you. But I wouldn't want to disturb your love story, now that Max has finally declared himself." I winked.
With a gesture of her hand, she pushed that problem away.
"We have been friends for long, so I think we'll have to get accustomed to the fact that we are lovers now. It'll be more fun with you. Give whoever-the-person-is-whose-putting-you-up a call and tell her you'll be spending the day with us ! We'll show you Paris !"
I had to agree to this decision, and I actually was glad that Rose had proposed that, for I would have been sitting around at home, not knowing what to do. I sent a text to Coralie and she answered immediately that it was okay and that I must have fun with my new friends.
We had lunch at McDonalds. At least, I was familiar with that, it didn't change very much depending in which country you were. Max was a nice fellow, joking all the time. And, like Rose had said, even being lovers, they chatted around like friends would do. They also made fun of each other and squabbled affectionately all the time, dragging me into their fights so I wouldn't feel excluded. They were like the friends I never had. (Can you imagine meeting exactly the right friends after seventeen years of living ? Well that was it !)
As promised, they showed me Paris, which included walking pretty much, since I didn't have an Underground ticket yet. Finally, we sat down by la Fontaine des Innocents, the Fountain of the Innocents, next to les Halles, the very centre of Paris. We chatted there for a long time, and I suddenly noticed it was late. I went home with them, for I'd have got lost alone, and we separated, ready for the real first school day.