3. A small part of him resented the fact that everyone else was so much better at being sociable.
Even though Patrick is only a year older than Jeremie, growing up he couldn't help but idolize his older cousin. Patrick just seemed cool. Plus, he was already attending primary school while Jeremie was still stuck in maternelle.
Whenever he stayed over at his aunt and uncle's, he was surprised at how easily Patrick could charm his mother into letting them stay up past bedtime or have one more biscuit before going to sleep. His aunt Sophie would give them both an indulgent smile, add two more cookies to the plate, and tell Jeremie, "now, don't tell your maman. It'll be our secret."
He doesn't realize that everyone is charmed by Patrick until he starts primary school at six.
/
"Hey!" Patrick yells.
The other boys look up, seeing Patrick running down the street toward them. They scatter before Patrick reaches them and Jeremie watches them go listlessly. Patrick crouches down, picking up Jeremie's fallen book-bag.
"Thanks," Jeremie says, taking the bag from him.
"What was that about?" Patrick questions. He looks at Jeremie. "They picking on you?"
"No," Jeremie replies. "I guess I missed the social cues saying go away."
"So, picking on you," Patrick states. He stands up, dusting his hands off on his trousers. "I've told you I could try teaching you martial arts again."
Jeremie snorts and adjusts his glasses. "I'm no good at martial arts."
Patrick is still frowning as they walk down the street. "What was it about this time?"
"I was telling them about the new planet they think they found. The others weren't as interested." He shrugs. "They just wanted to talk about sports."
Patrick gives him a wry grin. He knocks a fist lightly against Jeremie's head. "Maybe you should try talking about sports instead, if you want friends."
Jeremie makes a face. "That's boring. All you're trying to do is get a ball from one side to another." He sticks his tongue out at Patrick as the older boy laughs. "Anyway, I don't need friends. I have you."
/
Denis's father works for the Ministry of Agriculture and is transferred to their region when they're eight. His popularity lasts two weeks before he is no longer an oddity and instead becomes integrated into the class, almost like he's been there from day one.
Jeremie doesn't think much about him at first, but their fathers work together and inevitably they get pushed together. Denis knows a surprising amount about machinery and they fall to designing and building their own robot.
He's not sure if he'd classify Denis as a friend, but he's the closest one he's had outside of Patrick, even if they don't always get each other's references.
/
Denis is the one who convinces them to go to summer camp. Patrick had left the pamphlet behind when he'd spent the night the previous weekend, trying to goad Jeremie into joining. Jeremie had no interest in outdoor sports or living, and sleeping on the ground sounded painful. But, Denis had flipped through the brochure while Jeremie tinkered with their newest robot.
"Did you know this place has computing?"
"Does it?" Jeremie asks, distracted.
"Yeah, it says there's a whole programming section." Jeremie looks up, intrigued. "Maybe our parents will let us go."
"I don't know," Jeremie replies, frowning.
"It says that there will be an instructor from l'X," Denis adds. Jeremie feels his resolve wavering. "How cool would that be?"
/
Afterwards, he refers to it as The Summer Camp Incident. It starts off fine; he and Denis are in a cabin with two other boys who are interested in robotics. They spend their mornings learning programming and coding and their afternoons are spent doing "normal" camp stuff.
Jeremie finds that he enjoys swimming more than he thought he would. There's something about free-floating in the pool that makes him think of space and weightlessness. He knows it isn't the same thing as no-gravity, but it's the closest he'll get to space for a while yet, so he makes do. When it gets dark they make campfires and tell scary stories. Jeremie doesn't have the imagination for true horror stories, but he enjoys falling under the spell of some of the more talented kids.
He isn't even sure how it happens.
One day it's the same as ever, then Patrick joins them for lunch in the mess hall. The other boys laugh along with him, chat about movies and sports and music while Jeremie scribbles calculations absent mindedly on his napkin. After lunch they decide to play basketball instead of going to the lake to swim. Jeremie frowns, but goes along with it because it's only one day.
The next day the others invite Patrick to come to the programming class with them. They chat more at lunch. They want to do martial arts. Patrick bumps his elbow against Jeremie's and smiles at him. "Your friends are pretty cool," he tells him as they walk down to the martial arts field.
"Yeah," Jeremie says, rubbing his arm. "I guess."
By the end of the week Jeremie isn't all that surprised to find that the other boys have gravitated to Patrick. It doesn't even bother him all that much, if he's honest. What does hurt is how Patrick seems to just accept it as if nothing has changed. As if Jeremie isn't heading down to the lake on his own, as if he doesn't skip campfire time and spend his evenings in the cabin reading while it's still quiet out. It's enough to convince him that maybe it was Patrick's plan all along.
. . … . .
His new school is larger than the primary he went to. It's an interesting mix of kids, with the local town kids already knowing each other while the boarders are a mixture of new and returning. Jeremie is the youngest in his year, which he knew coming in. Between that and transferring in a year after most of his class started he's more on the periphery of his classmates. It's a position he's become used to.
/
"Have you made any friends yet?" his father asks, Sunday night.
Jeremie shrugs, even though no one is around to see him. "A few acquaintances. It's only been a couple weeks," he says.
His father is quiet. "That's right," he says finally. "It feels longer." There's another long pause and Jeremie is suddenly hit with the strong desire to board the next train east. It's a ridiculous feeling, he doesn't want to go home. "Are you happy there, Jeremie?"
"Yes, Papa," he replies. "The science classes are great. And there's a robotics club after school."
"I'm happy. We're both happy you're happy."
"How is Maman?"
"She's good, Jeremie. She is so proud of you."
/
"You're a quiet little guy, aren't you?"
"I'm taller than you, Odd."
The blonde scoffs. "Like that's hard," he replies.
"He's right," Ulrich adds. "Kiwi'll probably end up taller than him."
Odd elbows Ulrich in the ribs, but he's laughing. Jeremie blinks at them. "I just meant, you kinda keep to yourself, don't you?"
Jeremie shrugs. He looks up as Yumi drops into the seat next to him. "Stop tormenting Jeremie," she says.
Odd splutters around his potatoes. "I'm not tormenting Jeremie," he protests.
"Little bit," Ulrich says, holding up his thumb and index finger to indicate the size. Odd glowers. "You okay, Jer?"
"Huh?" he asks, thrown for a moment by the nickname. "Yeah, I'm good. I just like brussels sprouts."
"In that case," Ulrich says, and slides his tray over. "Help yourself."
/
Jeremie trails his friends, watching the way they laugh and playfully shove each other on the way back to Kadic from the factory. Odd is loud as usual, voice carrying through the deserted trail as he teases Ulrich and Yumi. He dances away from Ulrich's (probably) half-hearted lunge. Jeremie lets their voices wash over him.
Yumi turns and looks at him. "Come on, Jeremie!" she calls. "You should be celebrating with us!"
"Yeah, come on, Einstein," Odd adds. He flicks Ulrich in the side of the head and ducks to the other side of Yumi. "Even you have to recognize fun when you see it!"
/
Sometimes he misses the days when Aelita was stuck in Lyoko. He'll never tell her that because, well, because that's not the type of thing you say to someone, is it? But it was so much easier to talk to her through the computer screen than it is to talk to her face-to-face. He finds he gets distracted by her eyelashes, or the wind playing with her hair, the way she's gotten into the habit of speaking with her hands.
At the moment, she's seated next to Odd in the courtyard, heads bent together as they look at something on Odd's phone. She laughs, one of those bright and infectious ones that always bring a smile to his face. He sees a couple eyes shift, heads turning to look at her as well. And why shouldn't they? he asks himself. She is bright and dazzling and he isn't foolish enough to think he's the only one who noticed. He was the first though, and that's what makes him miss those long nights of endless conversation.
Her breath mists in the cold air and she looks up suddenly. She finds him in the crowd, her eyes sparkling. "Jeremie!" she calls, "Come look at this video of Kiwi!"
Jeremie zips his coat up, shoves his hands into his pockets, and crosses the frost-dusted courtyard. Odd gives him a lazy smile and wave as Aelita makes room on the bench for him. "Hey, Einstein," he says.
"Morning," he replies.
"Look," Aelita instructs. She takes Odd's phone from him and restarts the video. He tries to focus on whatever Kiwi is doing, but she lets out another one of those laughs. His eyes are drawn to her involuntarily, watching the joy on her face. "Isn't it great?" she asks, eyes still focused on the video.
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, it's great." Odd gives him a knowing look from over Aelita's head and Jeremie feels his cheeks flame, hopes he can pass it off on the cold or being too warm in his coat and scarf. Odd doesn't mention it and Aelita doesn't look up, just leans into him as she giggles over the video.
Yes, he thinks, it was definitely easier when there was a computer screen between them.