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CHAPTER TWO - CHRISTOPHE JOLY
"Come." said LeClair. "I'll show you where the lecture room is. We'd better be finding seats anyway. I imagine it will be quite crowded."
Combeferre nodded nervously and followed the tall, dark-haired student down the corridor, noticing – and feeling guilty for doing so – that LeClair's clothes were worn and shabby. Evidently he had not benefited from the same wealthy background as Combeferre himself had.
"Here we are." said LeClair, pushing open a door and gesturing for Combeferre to precede him. "I'd try and grab a seat by the front if I were you. From what I gather, it's rather difficult to hear at the back."
Combeferre nodded gratefully as he stepped into the room. It was indeed crowded; full of smartly dressed young men with their arms full of books, all talking and shaking hands at the same time and making a terrific amount of noise.
Heeding LeClair's advice, Combeferre wound his way past various groups of people and headed for a pair of empty seats in the front row, next to a young man with brown hair and glasses, who was examining his tongue in a little pocket mirror.
"Are these seats taken?" enquired Combeferre politely, in his gentle tenor.
"No, not at all." answered the young man cheerfully. "Sit down. I should warn you, though, that I believe I am contagious."
"Contagious?" repeated Combeferre in surprise as he sat down beside him, with LeClair taking the seat on his other side. The young man appeared to be the picture of health; certainly giving no impression of being ill at all.
"Yes." answered his neighbour, turning his attention back to his mirror, which he used to examine his eyes next. "I believe I am coming down the measles and I shall likely be dead by the end of the week."
Combeferre simply blinked, unsure if this was a joke or not. He flashed a look at LeClair, who seemed equally confused, and shrugged. There were no spots on the boy's face, neck or hands and no sign of any other symptom of illness whatsoever. And for someone who was allegedly dying, he seemed to be perfectly cheerful.
"Still, as long as you know the risk you're taking in sitting beside me, I don't mind." concluded their neighbour with a friendly smile, as he held out his hand. "I'm Joly. Christophe Joly."
"Pleased to meet you, Joly." said Combeferre pleasantly, shaking his hand. "I'm Etienne Combeferre, and this is Claude LeClair."
Joly grinned welcomingly and they fell into conversation about how many students there seemed to be, and the size of the university before they were interrupted by their lecturer.
The class fell into respectful silence while he checked that all the students had managed to find their way there all right, and that everyone was equipped with the correct textbooks. When all that was settled, he began the class.
Combeferre continued to shoot quick glances on the intriguing young man sitting on his right. Joly had chestnut-brown hair that swept across his forehead and round his ears. His glasses were neat and small and very much suited him. He appeared to be the same age as Combeferre was; eighteen. He was also well dressed and evidently came from a wealthy background.
But what really puzzled Combeferre, was that Joly continued to shoot sly looks at his mirror, poking his tongue out and examining it carefully when the professor's attention was diverted elsewhere. And yet, looking at the notes he was taking, he seemed to be paying his utmost attention to the lesson too.
Between such distractions, he felt the glands in his throat and then put his fingers on his wrist to check his pulse. He really did seem to be convinced he was ill.
'But there is nothing the matter with him!' thought Combeferre bewilderedly. 'I have not even begun my medical training, yet I can tell he has not got measles. He is the very picture of health! He is a strange one!'
Yet, even more strange, when the professor began to quiz the class to find out what they already knew about the medical profession and its many areas, Joly gave the most intelligent answers Combeferre had ever heard, making many of the class look towards him in admiration.
It was almost as if Joly had two sides to his character; one half determined to be perfectly silly and convince himself he was suffering from some disease, and the other half bringing forth this confident, calm young man who could answer the professor's most difficult questions with an astounding elegance. And the two halves simply didn't seem to go together. How could someone be so paranoid and yet so intelligent at the same time?
Combeferre was both intrigued and endeared to Christophe Joly at once. When the professor left the room for a short while, Joly conversed with him and LeClair with an infectious friendliness and a bright smile. He was interesting and amusing and evidently was a deep thinker. But he was certainly a puzzle!
"Well, I think that went rather well!" said LeClair happily, as he gathered up his books at the end of the morning lecture. "I think we're splitting up next and dividing among the laboratories, but before we go, do you two fancy meeting up for dinner at the Café Lemblin?"
"Certainly." answered Combeferre, grateful for the easy friendliness that LeClair radiated. He had been worried about being stuck on his own when he arrived here, but LeClair had arrived just in time and taken him under his wing.
"Excellent." grinned LeClair. "Joly, what about you?"
"I'll be glad to." replied Joly, with his friendly smile firmly in place as began to gather up his own books. "What time?"
"Six-ish?" suggested LeClair. "That'll give us plenty of time to get finished here."
His companions agreed and the three students strolled out of the room and went to check the lists posted outside the hall to find out where they were headed next.
To Combeferre's relief, he was placed in the same group as LeClair. Joly however, would not be accompanying them. The group he was placed in was heading off in the opposite direction.
"I'll see you this evening." he said as he walked off. "I shall endeavour not to collapse before then!"
With that, he hurried off down the corridor, leaving Combeferre and LeClair staring at each other in confusion once more.
"You know, Etienne mon ami." said LeClair, sounding exceedingly amused. "I am convinced that Christophe Joly is either going to prove to be either the most eccentric, intelligent person of my acquaintance, or as mad as a bag of badgers!"
And Combeferre, laughing heartily, could do nothing agree.
Before anyone attempts to shoot me for calling Joly silly, let me clairfy that I adore Joly! I only portray him as slightly odd in the chapter coz it's based on the first impression he gives. Please review.
