Notes: I can't believe it's the second-to-last chapter. It seems like I just started posting Jeremie's list not so long ago!
24. Getting into l'X was one of the best moments of his life.
Jeremie is nine when his teacher announces the schoolwide science competition. It's over a month away, but he's already scribbling ideas down in the margins of his notebook. A rocket, a time machine, a superfast computer, a pep-up drink, shoes that make you run really fast, a robotic assistant, how to grow plants in space, robot racers, growing a new brain… The possibilities are endless. By the time the bell rings he has fifty ideas jotted down and a million more in his head.
Patrick laughs at him on their walk home. It's not the way the other kids sometimes laugh at Jeremie, as if there's a joke that he doesn't get. This is like how his father used to laugh when he'd play a trick on his mother, or that time he'd convinced Jeremie that aliens would abduct him if he didn't eat all his brussels sprouts.
"You really think you can do any of those, cuz?" Patrick questions.
"Of course," Jeremie replies. He adjusts his glasses and blinks at Patrick. "And if I can't then that means it's probably implausible, but not impossible."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"Because it's science. Science is always changing." He kicks a pebble out of the way. "Lots of people died before penicillin was invented, but now they can treat those illnesses. It'll be the same with cancer too." It takes Jeremie half a dozen steps to realize Patrick has stopped and isn't walking by his side anymore. He pauses, adjusts the straps of his backpack, and turns to look questioningly at his cousin. "What?"
Patrick looks…sad. Jeremie doesn't understand why his mouth is turned down like that or he's frowning. Patrick shakes his head though, an easy smile coming over his face again as if the other expression had never been there. "Yeah, and I bet you'll be the one to do it, eh?" He takes three long strides and raps Jeremie lightly on the top of his head, mussing his hair slightly. "You and that big brain."
Jeremie beams even as he fixes his hair.
/
His mother sits at the kitchen table and reads over his list of ideas. Her eyebrows are pulled together and she's tapping a pen against her bottom lip. Jeremie hovers at her side, bouncing slightly on his toes as he waits for her verdict. After several minutes, his mother lays the list down and circles six of his seventy-five ideas. He'd numbered them himself.
"They're all very good, ma petite etoile," she says at last. "But I think these six should be manageable, in the time frame."
Jeremie snatches the list up, eyes roving over the page to see which ones she'd deemed worthy. She gives him an amused smile, ruffles his hair as she stands and moves to the refrigerator to begin making dinner.
"You don't think the mini-robot cancer blasters would be good?"
His mother gives him a wry look over her shoulder, mouth tugging up at the corner. "I think it's very ambitious, Jeremie. However, I'm not sure you could create it in one month. Perhaps a project for the future?"
Jeremie nods seriously. She's right, of course. He knows that some scientific discoveries will take years and can't be rushed. He doesn't want to mess it up because he's trying to win a ribbon of all things. His eyes go back to skimming the ideas she had circled in green ink.
"Check with your father when he gets home tonight. I'm sure he would be happy to help you, particularly with the robot ones."
"Alright, Maman."
/
Jeremie spends the weekends leading up to the science fair with his father, riding around to the different mechanic jobs he has and sorting through the discarded wires and materials while his father works. It takes visiting five different jobsites before Jeremie has collected the materials he needs. That night, his father clears the kitchen table after dinner and rolls up his sleeves.
Jeremie lays out the popsicle sticks, batteries, straws, dowels, wires, propellers, and other things he's collected on the table. His father pulls out a pair of wire strippers and begins to methodically strip the ends of the first couple of wires. "You have to be careful, Jeremie," he says. "Wires are delicate things and you only want to remove the casing."
"Yes, Papa."
His father hands him the wire strippers, guides him in removing the plastic wrapping at the ends of the rest of the wires. After, they get to work assembling the machine. Periodically, his mother appears at the doorway, looking in at them or snapping a photo when their distracted with heads bent over the table and faces contorted into identical expressions of concentration.
It takes a few hours, but in the end he has a real working drone.
/
The other kids have experiments on light effects on plants and baking soda volcanoes. They stare as his drone takes flight in the middle of the cafeteria where all the displays are set-up and Jeremie can't help but grin brightly. He can see his mother smiling proudly as well, her thin body curled under his father's reassuring arm.
"Very impressive," his teacher says, looking over his presentation. "And you did this research all by yourself?"
"Yes," Jeremie replies. He opens up the notebook he's set on the table, showing her his list of original ideas and his research ideas. "Maman said it would be too difficult to grow a new organ in just a month, but the drone is super cool too. I wanted to make a robotic hand, but I couldn't find all the parts I would need and Papa said I was too young to use his power tools."
His teacher raises her eyebrows, but she's smiling as she skims his list of ideas. "I have no doubt that you'll manage to achieve your other projects someday," she states.
At the end of the night, after everyone has had a chance to look at the other projects, the headmaster approaches Jeremie's project. His teacher is next to the headmaster and she gives Jeremie another bright smile. Jeremie can't keep his own grin off his face as the headmaster presents him with the blue ribbon for his research on the mechanics of homemade drones.
He wonders if he should start working on the brain-growing idea now, for next year.
. . … . .
Odd somehow smuggles two trays of breakfast pastries out of the school kitchens and brings them to the factory. Jeremie can't help but stare as the other boy extracts them from his bag, grinning all the while. Yumi blinks at him while Ulrich and Aelita simply reach for a pastry.
"How?" Yumi asks finally.
Odd shrugs, still smiling. "You know the cafeteria ladies love me," he says.
And Jeremie has to agree with that. He isn't sure how, or why, but they do. They always give Odd an extra helping of whatever they're serving that day, two extra servings if Odd looks forlorn. Yet, if Jeremie asks for an extra helping of brussel sprouts they simply raise their eyebrows at him and shoo him off like he's planning to start a food fight or something.
"Knew I was keeping you around for a reason," Ulrich comments.
"Bite me, Ricky," Odd snipes. He moves his stash of pastries out of Ulrich's reach and sticks his tongue out.
"Real mature, boys," Yumi comments. She reaches for a pastry though and takes a seat next to Aelita.
"Are they ever mature?" Aelita questions.
"True."
Jeremie shakes his head, takes a seat on Aelita's other side, and reaches for Odd's stash. Odd shoves the bag in his direction, too busy arguing with Ulrich to really pay attention as Jeremie, Aelita, and Yumi take the opportunity to grab additional pastries. He settles on the hard floor and munches his pastry, watches the way the setting sun shines through the windows high overhead.
Finally, the two boys cease bickering and Odd stretches out on the floor. "You'll get filthy," Jeremie cautions.
Odd shrugs. "It's just a bit of dust and dirt." He yawns widely. "Man, this week has sucked."
"Oh?" Aelita questions.
"Yeah." Odd lets out a breath, folds his arms under his chin. "I got turned down twice."
"Shocking," Ulrich deadpans while Aelita laughs and laughs.
Yumi smirks at the younger boy. "By the same person, or did you strike out with two different girls this time?"
Odd sticks his tongue out. "And to think I brought you heathens pastries."
"You brought yourself pastries," Jeremie retorts.
Odd turns baleful eyes on him. "Et tu, Einstein?" Jeremie shrugs, takes another bite of the pastry and Odd sighs loudly. "I need new friends."
/
Jeremie loses track of time, not sure if they've been at the factory for thirty minutes of three hours. The only way he really knows time has passed is because the windows grow dark and the shadows grow long inside. Yumi gets up at one point to flick on the lights and they're bathed in warm yellow light. He can hear the beat of moth wings as they bat against the lightbulb high above.
Odd recounts various stories about his sisters, grinning as he rehashes old memories. Jeremie can't help but think Odd is actually a pretty good storyteller. He knows when to pause, knows how to raise and lower his voice to draw in an audience. He talks with his hands, like Aelita does. Jeremie finds himself laughing along with the others when Odd mentions replacing the cream filling of the cream puffs with toothpaste instead during one of his sister's parties.
"How much trouble did you get in?" Aelita questions, wiping at her eyes.
"Oh, plenty," Odd laughs. "Pauline was surprised I had the patience to empty and fill them all though."
"Clearly she doesn't know how you get with your pranks," Ulrich comments.
"Clearly," Odd agrees.
"Don't tell Hiroki about that one," Yumi warns, smiling. "He'll try it the next time I make anything with cream. The kid idolizes you for some reason."
"Because I'm awesome, duh."
Yumi shakes her head, but she doesn't contradict him. Just lays on her back, an arm tucked under her head while Ulrich runs his fingers through her dark hair absently. "Do you ever wonder," she comments, voice far away and eyes unfocused.
"Do we ever wonder?" Jeremie prompts.
"Do you ever wonder where we'd be if Jeremie hadn't found this place, hadn't found Aelita?" Jeremie goes still and he can see Aelita sitting frozen as well. "Do you think we'd still end up as friends?"
"You mean, whether Ulrich would've kicked Kiwi and me out?"
"Well, if you kept him from eating my stuff."
"I'd probably be a loner," Jeremie interrupts, surprising himself. "I was never that good at making friends, and well." He shrugs as four pairs of eyes turn on him, feels himself flush. "I'm glad I found Lyoko."
Ulrich nods. "Yeah," he agrees, but doesn't elaborate. Jeremie looks at him curiously, but Ulrich has that look on his face. The one that says he's thinking about something and he isn't going to say anything further.
Odd offers them a bright smile. "I'm sure I'd be a regular Casanova without you lot cramping my style." Yumi kicks him lightly in the leg and Odd grins brightly. He nudges Aelita lightly. "It doesn't matter now. We are where we are and that's all that matters. And if Einstein hadn't gotten us together then we wouldn't have our fair Princess here with us."
"Odd," Aelita protests.
He winks at her and then grins at Jeremie. "Where do you think you'd be?" he asks Yumi.
Yumi shrugs, eyes still fixed on the shadowed ceiling. "I'm not sure," she admits. Her fingers are rubbing at her wrist. She tilts her head finally, locks eyes with Jeremie. "You're right, Odd. What matters is that we are here now." She offers a wry smile. "And that we're going to find a way to kick XANA's ass once and for all."
"Here, here!" Odd cheers.
. . … . .
Jeremie's palms are sweating and he isn't sure if he should attempt to wipe them off on his corduroys or if they'll leave marks behind. He frowns, thinking about it, and catches himself when he notices Aelita staring at him curiously. She has her head tilted so that her bangs fall over one eye and he has to restrain himself from reaching out to brush them back.
"Everything alright, Jeremie?" she questions.
They're sitting in the library, off in one of the side alcoves where the study tables are and Madame Martin mostly ignores them if they whisper. Jeremie can feel his face flush with warmth, sweat gather at the nape of his neck. He wishes he hadn't worn a sweater today after all.
"Of course," he replies. He keeps his gaze focused on the history book in front of him. He can feel Aelita assessing him, but after a few minutes she sighs and picks up her pen again. Jeremie releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
When Aelita's been writing steadily for a few minutes he chances a glance up at her. Her hair is in a loose braid, strands escaping to curl against her cheek, her jaw, her collarbone. Unlike Jeremie, she had been sensible and worn a t-shirt under her own sweater and was able to remove it when they entered the stuffy library to research for their history project. Jeremie likes the way the dark green color makes her eyes appear brighter. He wonders if he should mention that?
"Jeremie."
He jerks, realizing that she's watching him again. She lifts one pink eyebrow in a perfect arch and he swallows, throat suddenly dry. Her mouth curls into a small crooked smile. Surreptitiously, he wipes his sweaty palms against the sides of his legs under the table.
"Yes?"
"You keep staring at me." Her eyebrow raises further. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, no of course not."
"Alright," she replies, voice uncertain. He feels a sudden sense of loss when she turns back to her own textbook. "If you say so."
Jeremie can't concentrate. Every time he looks at the text he isn't reading about the Revolution, instead he's remembering the sight of Olivier Augustin speaking with Aelita outside the arts building before lunch. He had stood there, frozen, watching the two chat, watching the way Olivier tugged lightly at Aelita's braid and the way Aelita had smiled sweetly at him.
"He's asking her out, you know," Sissi had said, voice a sudden surprise at his shoulder. He'd jumped, before shooting her a quick glare. "Don't act all jealous over something you could've prevented."
"What are you talking about?"
Sissi had given him a level, pitying look. Jeremie hadn't known how to interpret it. "For someone so smart, I forget how oblivious you can be." She had held up a hand before Jeremie could protest. "For what it's worth, Aelita is cute. I'm sure you've noticed that."
"She's also smart."
"Yes, and funny and probably as sweet as she acts. The point is, others have noticed too. You haven't asked her out, so someone else did." Sissi had shaken her head at him, that pitying look still in her eyes. "It was bound to happen eventually, Belpois. And Olivier isn't too bad."
Before he had been able to respond, Sissi had turned and disappeared into the cafeteria. When he'd looked back over at Aelita, Olivier had disappeared and Aelita was making her way around a group of students toward him. He hadn't asked her what Olivier had wanted, what she had said. He hadn't wanted to know if Sissi was right, if he had blown whatever chance he'd had with her. And Aelita hadn't said anything either. Not when they'd waited in line for food or when they'd joined Yumi at the table, or even when Odd and Ulrich had joined them. If Aelita didn't want to say, then maybe he shouldn't ask.
"I said no," Aelita says, voice soft. Jeremie looks up at her in surprise. "If that's why you're acting…weird. I saw you and Sissi watching Olivier talking to me."
"I…Why?" he asks. "Sissi said he was alright."
Aelita's mouth curls into that wry smile again and she rolls her eyes. "Should I be taking advice from Sissi now?" She shakes her head and fiddles with her pen. Jeremie sees a faint blush cover her cheeks. "I guess…I don't know. I guess I was hoping it would be someone else asking."
"Oh?" he asks. His throat is completely dry now. He stares at her fingers. Her fingernails are painted a bright orange, bitten down unevenly, and she's still fiddling with her pen. He clears his throat and her eyes dart up to meet his. "Uh. Would you…I mean…That is…" He pauses, tries to ignore the way his heart is hammering in his chest and the smile he sees creeping across her face. "Would you want to go out? With me. Sometime?"
Her smile is effervescent and he has a moment to wonder why he'd ever worried about a boy like Olivier Augustin before her hand is on his. Her fingers are long and cool, nimble in a way his aren't. She squeezes his hand and he can't help but squeeze her fingers back, even if his palms are still sweaty.
"I would love to, Jeremie."
. . … . .
They laze about in Yumi's living room, a horror movie on the television screen. Jeremie rolls his eyes as the hero loses an arm but is still able to run through the dimly lit woods at full speed. "You know this is unrealistic," he complains. "He didn't even put a tourniquet on. He'd bleed out in minutes from the arterial damage."
"You make mindless entertainment so educational, Einstein."
Jeremie sticks his tongue out at the other blonde and hurls a throw pillow at him. He misses and hits Ulrich instead. Ulrich glances over, shakes his head, and then tucks the throw pillow behind his head. At least it isn't being used as a projectile against him, Jeremie thinks.
"Who do you think would survive a horror movie at school?" Yumi questions.
"Normal psycho-killer horror, zombie horror, or that gore porn stuff?" Ulrich asks.
"Normal psycho-killer," Aelita suggests. She's curled into Jeremie's side and the scent of her orange blossom shampoo is at odds with the smell of popcorn and pizza.
"Claire's a goner right out of the gate," Odd states.
"Will would probably make it a while," Ulrich comments. "He's got some athletic ability and common sense."
"Sissi?" Jeremie suggests. "She's kind of a ditz."
"She'd make it," Ulrich states.
"She does seem to have a knack for getting out of trouble," Yumi comments, begrudgingly. "I could see her in the top five."
"What about Theo?" Aelita asks. "He's kind of quiet."
"Dead in the first half," Ulrich replies firmly.
"Just because you don't like him…" Odd states.
"It's not that. Remember how he reacted to the elevator incident?"
Jeremie stretches out, feet resting on the coffee table. "I think Emily would make it. She's resourceful."
They spend the next hour arguing over their classmates and their survival chances. Jeremie wonders if he should be concerned about their conversation, but instead he finds himself relaxing, laughing at some of the reasons being volleyed back-and-forth. He's not surprised when everyone agrees unanimously that Jim would survive any type of attack.
. . … . .
"So, what are your plans for winter break?" Odd asks at the end of January.
Jeremie glances up, shrugs. "Just staying at Kadic." Odd's eyebrows raise and Jeremie frowns. "What?"
"Sounds boring. Ulrich's coming to Norway and we're going to go snowboarding. You should come."
Jeremie makes a face at the idea of snowboarding. "I'll pass."
Odd's eyebrows have been joined by a knowing smile and Jeremie narrows his eyes. "You know, Princess decided to stay at Kadic too. For extra studying." He gives his eyebrows a devious wiggle and Jeremie flushes. "Just remember, safety first!"
It's at that moment that the door opens behind them. "Safety? Is Jer building another robot?" Ulrich asks.
Odd's grin widens and Jeremie kicks him. Hard. It doesn't work. "Nah, he and Princess are staying at Kadic over break. Unsupervised."
"What are you talking about, Jim is here!" Jeremie protests. "And other teachers!"
"Uh huh," Ulrich replies. And the traitor is smirking as well. "Jim finishes his rounds at midnight and doesn't start again until five, by the way."
Jeremie groans loudly.
/
If Odd and Ulrich weren't already on a plane to Norway, Jeremie would hunt them down and stuff the box of condoms they'd left on his bed down their throats.
/
Jeremie will admit that he enjoys being able to spend time with Aelita. There are only a handful of students on campus, most choosing to be home or in town with their families. They fall into a routine of getting breakfast and then studying for a few hours before going into town for lunch if the weather is nice. At night they watch movies and chat quietly.
It's one such night when Aelita is in his room and they're watching a Disney movie. Aelita makes a comment about being cold, gets up to retrieve a sweater from his dresser and Jeremie remembers too late why that is a bad idea. She has the drawer open before he can say anything, and he feels his face flush as she pauses, sweater in hand.
"Jeremie?"
"Yes?"
He doesn't look away as she reaches in, pulls out the box of condoms and turns to give him a curious look. He feels his face turn redder, feels the blush spread down his neck. He is going to murder his so-called friends as soon as they're back in the country.
"Planning something?"
"Oh, ah. Odd and Ulrich are idiots," he grumbles. Her eyebrows raise further. "They found out we were both staying on campus and left that behind. As a gift. Or a joke." He shrugs.
Aelita has the audacity to laugh as she drops the condoms back into the drawer. She pulls on the sweater and Jeremie can't help but think she looks really good in his clothes. He pushes the thought away almost immediately and shifts as she climbs back onto the bed next to him.
She curls up against him, head tucked against his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around her. The sweater and T-shirt have ridden up and he lets his fingers brush against her warm skin, enjoys the way she sighs against his collarbone. It's scary how easily he can find himself getting used to this. He has to remind himself that he only has this for a few more months, that soon she'll be leaving.
As if she can read his mind she tilts her head back, reaches up to run cool fingers along his jaw. "I'm still here," she murmurs.
He gives her a half smile, pushes thoughts of her trip out of his mind. "I know," he replies. "I know." He presses a kiss to her mouth, feels her sigh and loop an arm around his neck. A shiver runs down his spine as her fingernails scratch lightly at his scalp. "I love you," he breathes.
Her eyes are bright when they meet his, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. He finds he can't take his eyes off her. "I love you," she replies and he feels his heart stutter in his chest.
/
He wakes in the morning to sunlight spilling through his still-open blinds. It gilds Aelita's bare shoulder in gold and Jeremie can't help but reach out and brush his fingers softly, hesitantly, over her warm skin. She lets out a soft breath, face turned into the pillow.
Jeremie contemplates getting up, maybe shutting the blinds or waking Aelita to head down for breakfast. Instead, he shifts closer, lets his fingers skim lightly along her arm before he drapes his arm around her waist. He feels her twitch a moment before she rolls over, head tucking neatly under his chin.
"Go to sleep, Jeremie," Aelita murmurs, breath warm against his skin. "It's early. We have time."
"I know," he replies, voice soft. He lets himself brush a kiss against the top of her hair, tightens his hold on her. He wonders how he's going to be able to let her go in five months.
. . … . .
The letter from École Polytechnique arrives two weeks after he arrives home to Reims. His father is the one who brings it in from the postbox, sets it on the kitchen table for Jeremie to find. Jeremie had been out walking around the neighborhood with Aelita, showing her around. They'd stopped by the bakery around the corner and picked up fresh baguettes and a box of pain au chocolates for the morning.
His father is in the shower when they arrive back and Jeremie doesn't notice the letter right away. He's busy putting their purchases away and when he turns to ask Aelita something he sees her standing there, hands holding the letter carefully. Her eyes lift, meet his.
"It's from l'X," she says, voice soft.
"Oh."
He wants to tear into it; he wants to run from it. He wipes his hands on a dish towel and crosses the small kitchen. Wordlessly, Aelita holds the letter out to him. He's proud that his hands are steady when he takes it from her, rips into the pristine cream envelope. His eyes skim the letter, silently mouthing the words as he reads. His eyes catch on the words pleased and accepted and scholarship.
"Jeremie?"
He grabs Aelita into a hug, twirls her around in the middle of the kitchen while she laughs, and kisses her. He can feel her smile into the kiss, her arms coming up around his neck, and the acceptance letter crinkles where he clutches it against the small of her back.
He hears a throat clear and pulls back from Aelita. His father is standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised questioningly and a smile on his face. Aelita flushes the same shade Jeremie does, but Jeremie can also feel a wide smile splitting his face.
"I got in," he says. He sounds breathless and he isn't sure if it's from excitement or from the kiss. "I got into l'X."
His father's smile is still there, his eyes a little cloudy, and he takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, clasps Jeremie on the shoulder. "Congratulations. I had no doubt you could. Your mother would be so proud." He clears his throat, turns to blink out the window over the sink. "This calls for a celebration. I'll call your aunt and uncle, we'll get dinner in town."
"We don't have to-"
"Jeremie."
"Yes, Papa." He watches his father step out into the living room, hears his footsteps recede to his room. He can still feel the smile on his face. "I can't believe I got in."
Aelita smiles up at him, her arm wrapped around his waist. "We all knew you could, Jeremie. I'm really happy for you."
"Are you sure you don't want-?"
"I'm sure," she replies. Her voice is easy, effortless. He's surprised to find that he isn't as upset as he would've been a month or two ago. He presses a kiss to her temple and she turns into his embrace, rests her chin on his shoulder. "You'll be amazing."