XXII. Belle, October 4
Belle sat in an empty classroom. It was Monday afternoon, and she was here for detention. She figured she could have reasonably gotten out of it had she made any effort to, but she hadn't. The best thing to do right now was to act like everything was normal. She pursed her lips as she thought of it—normal. Would things ever feel quite normal again?
Yes. They have to. Bad things happen, and you bounce back. This is no exception.
Ms. Fee, the kindly guidance counselor, had called Belle into her office earlier that day. She had suggested that Belle might need to take a day or two off. Belle thought that sounded horrific—true, she could always escape into her books, but school was an even better distraction. School would tire her out, at the very least, and then it would be harder for the thoughts to keep her up at night. No, staying home was maybe the worst possible solution. Ms. Fee tried to get Belle to open up about the incident, and though Belle appreciated the effort, she wasn't comfortable talking to a complete stranger that probably couldn't really relate to the situation.
She had come to this room right from class, and she was the first one to arrive. Not even the teacher presiding over the detention session was here yet. So Belle was left alone with her thoughts. Of course, those thoughts went right to the Gaston situation. He had been immediately expelled from Walt Disney High School, but that was not enough. Gaston was going to get a lot more than an expulsion of Belle had her way—and Snow was going to assist in that. Belle and Snow now shared an inexplicable and immediate bond and they already had a plan worked out to make sure Gaston never, ever did anything like this again. Thinking about this was the only thing that made Belle feel better. She felt like she would forever be indebted to Snow for stopping Gaston before he could finish what he had started. Belle knew that Snow had not been so lucky.
Throughout the day, Belle had felt all eyes were directed at her. Of course, people tried to be subtle about it—glancing from the corner of their eyes, or staring when they thought she wasn't looking. When she walked down a hallway, things got uncomfortably silent and she could hear faint whispers of pity. She didn't want anyone's pity. She wanted their support—she wanted them to back her up, to speak out against Gaston and people like him. What was the most unbelievable was that some people seemed to be on Gaston's side. One girl who was well-known for having a long-standing unrequited crush on Gaston had been telling people that Belle had been asking for it. Another girl in a similar situation was spreading a rumor that Belle had consented and only got embarrassed when she was caught and pretended the thing had been nonconsensual. Of course it hurt a bit, but it was a comfort to know that no one believed such gossip. Almost everyone who had ever met Gaston knew that he was a scumbag and hardly anyone doubted that he was capable of the things of which he was accused.
The door burst open—it was Adam. He had been running. He was gasping for air and his clothes and hair were disheveled. He looked at Belle for a moment, his mouth hanging open a bit and his eyes sympathetic and full of regret. He looked almost surprised at the fact that she looked exactly the same as she had the last time he saw her—as if he had expected her to have changed physically in some way. He walked into the room, beginning towards Belle's desk slowly. She stood and he sped up his pace, embracing her in a shielding hug. She leaned against him, her face against his chest as he buried his face into her shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I'm so sorry," he finally whispered.
Here in this empty classroom with Adam holding her protectively, Belle felt safer than she'd felt in the past couple of days. It seemed strange that this boy she had known for less than a month could make her feel so secure with such a simple gesture, but he did. They hadn't even been on any kind of friendly terms until very recently, and yet she felt like they shared a special bond, maybe because they had become friends despite his resistance, and because of the care he had shown for her when he stood up to Gaston.
"This is all my fault," Adam muttered.
"What?" Belle asked, lifting her head from his chest and looking up into his face. "Of course it isn't your fault."
"I should have been there," Adam said. "At the dance."
"Adam, there's no way you could have known—"
"I never would have let this happen to you," Adam said quietly, and Belle was shocked by the intense emotions in his eyes.
"That means a lot," Belle said softly.
A man cleared his throat loudly, and the two jumped apart from each other, startled. They looked to the front of the room and saw Mr. Facilier, who taking long strides to the desk at the front of the room. He put some folders down on the table and looked at Adam and Belle.
"You two here for detention?"
"Um… uh-huh," Adam answered, looking over at Belle.
Mr. Facilier sat down and put his feet up on the desk, yawning. His limbs were long and dangly—in fact his whole figure seemed to be stretched out. His skin was a light brown and he had a small gap between his front teeth, a thin mustache, and striking purple eyes. He was a geometry teacher, and Belle and Adam had each had him their freshman years. He didn't seem to remember either of them, or if he did, he didn't care. He looked at his watch with a bored expression, then looked at the list of students who were supposed to be at the detention session.
"What were your last names?" he asked.
"LeClair," Belle said.
"Desrosiers."
"Very good," Mr. Facilier said monotonously.
It was clear to anyone who had ever had him for a class that Mr. Facilier hated his job. He seemed to have no interest in any of the duties that were actually assigned to him, although occasionally he would go off on a tangent about something completely irrelevant, in which case he would be enthusiastic and captivating. The students usually enjoyed this aspect of his class, but other than that it was dismal, especially since Mr. Facilier took out his hatred for his job on his students, grading their work extremely harshly and never giving anyone any kind of break. Apparently his hatred of his job extended to detention duty, although he seemed more apathetic about this part and less vindictive. That was a good sign.
Immediately after the two had given their names, other students began to slowly file into the room. Belle and Adam took two desks that were next to each other towards the back of the room. They didn't speak for a while. Belle could feel Adam's eyes on her—he seemed to be watching her intently. But Belle didn't want to look back at him right now. With him nearby, she felt relaxed and she allowed her focus to drift elsewhere—or nowhere, as the case was. She watched absently as different students walked in and took their seats. One girl with voluminous black hair and copper toned skin seemed to be arguing heatedly with Mr. Facilier about something before finally giving in, throwing her arms up with a huff and taking a seat at the front near the door. Once the room was just about full, Mr. Facilier begrudgingly stood and ambled over to the door, pushing it shut. He turned to the students, surveying them with disinterest.
"If any of y'all have yet to give me your last name, I suggest you do so unless you would like to be joining me for a future detention," Mr. Facilier said, looking around at the students pointedly. "Other than that… Keep it down."
Mr. Facilier moved back over to the desk and repositioned himself with his feet up. He picked up a hat he had set beside his things and placed it over his face, leaning back. Belle raised an eyebrow. Detention was somehow not at all what she had imagined it would be. In fact, she could not really see how this was supposed to be a type of punishment—she figured she could just read a book. She turned and saw Adam. She had almost forgotten he was there, although he was the reason she had been comfortable enough to forget. She felt she shouldn't read with him there. She didn't want to ignore him. Mostly she just wanted to get to know him better, to learn more about this person who she could feel so comforted by without really knowing. It was strange to think that so recently he had been a complete enigma to her, and even stranger to think that he still sort of was a mystery.
Belle focused and found that Adam was looking curiously at her. She smiled and looked away. She picked up her desk and moved it right next to Adam's so they could talk quietly. At first she didn't really know what to say.
Well, why should it be any different to talking to anyone else? Belle thought to herself, and decided to treat this as she would treat any other getting-to-know-you conversation.
"So… Adam," Belle said. "Um… Do you have a favorite book?"
"I… don't really read very much," Adam said, looking a bit shamefully at his hands.
"Oh, don't feel bad," Belle said, reaching out and touching one of his hands. "I didn't mean to… Well, I wasn't really thinking. If you want, I could lend you some of my favorites that I think you'd like. If you're interested, that is."
"I would like that," Adam smiled genuinely, though he didn't look up at Belle.
"Are you okay?" Belle asked, wondering why Adam seemed suddenly unable to look at her.
"It seems like I should be the one asking that question," Adam said.
"Why—" Belle began to ask, then she realized—he meant the dance. Of course she hadn't forgotten, but for once it hadn't been at the forefront of her mind. "Oh. I'm fine, Adam, truly."
"Belle, I just… I never… never would let something like that happen to you," he said quietly, and when he finally looked up and caught her eye, his gaze was more intense than she had ever seen, his eyes were glossed over and his mouth was a hard, firm line.
Belle was taken aback by this sudden admission. She blinked, unsure of what to say next. Adam had quickly looked back down at the desk, apparently embarrassed. It was sweet that he felt so protective of her, but at the same time she felt that being protected was not the issue. People like Gaston were the issue. Still, Belle wondered what this meant about her and Adam. Was this his convoluted way of trying to tell her something? Belle was positive that his eyes were conveying something more than friendship. She reached across to his desk and took Adam's hand, turning it over and interlocking their fingers. He looked up at her with surprise.
"You're very sweet," Belle said.
The two sat quietly for a few minutes, and it was nice. Belle once again allowed herself to feel completely at peace, and she let her racing mind rest. She told herself that she didn't need Adam there to feel like this, but something about knowing he was nearby encouraged a tranquility in her. As she sat with her thoughts, she realized that she felt something new, and wondered if this could be one of those feelings she had only ever read about. She understood now why someone might want to write about this—she could think of a number of metaphors of her own to articulate the way her insides felt, but decided she wanted to keep them to herself.
"Adam," she finally said, pulling her hand back towards herself gently. "I'm going to testify against Gaston—you know that, right?"
"I had hoped you would," Adam said, then continued with a bit of a growl in his voice, "He doesn't deserve to ever see the light of day again as far as I'm concerned."
Belle touched his arm gently, "I… I'd really like you to be there when I do. I don't know when it will be, but… it would be nice to have a friend… an ally, I guess, in the courtroom with me."
"Snow will be there, won't she?" Adam asked. "And the other girls who witnessed it?"
"Of course," Belle nodded. "They'll all testify, of course, and they are my friends, but… I don't know. I just…"
"No," Adam shook his head. "You don't need to give me any reason—of course I'll be there."
"Thank you," Belle smiled, then leaned over to give Adam a long hug.
She imagined sitting in a courtroom and looking directly at Gaston as she told her story. She had no fears about this. She knew she could do it, and she honestly couldn't wait to. There was no way she could lose. Although very few other people knew at this point, Snow had shared her experience with Belle. The two had had a very long and personal conversation and Belle felt a connection with the girl despite their limited interactions. They were certainly going to be spending a lot more time together in the near future in preparation for the testimony against Gaston, and Belle was looking forward to getting to know Snow in spite of the misfortune that had brought them together. Despite what she had been through, Snow seemed to have it together. Obviously she was upset by what had happened to her, but she had risen above it—and now she was finally going to get the closure she so desperately wanted by helping to put Gaston behind bars. Belle admired Snow and hoped she could project as much strength as the older girl did. She felt almost sure that she could.
"You look tired," Adam said.
"I am," Belle said, suppressing a yawn.
"I don't think he would mind much if you took a little nap," Adam said, gesturing towards Mr. Facilier.
"I'm just afraid I wouldn't wake up," Belle said.
"I'll make sure you do," Adam said.
The idea of sleeping right now was extremely appealing. Belle obviously hadn't been sleeping well recently and now she felt more relaxed than ever. At this moment, the desk in front of her looked more appealing than any pillow in the world had ever looked.
"Well…" Belle said apprehensively.
"Look, you can even use this as a blanket," Adam said, pulling a big zip-up hoodie out of his backpack.
"Okay," Belle finally gave in.
She pulled the hoodie around her shoulders and crossed her arms over the desk, resting her head between them. The hoodie smelled like Adam—a sort of evergreen smell which seemed much stronger with the garment covering her. Inhaling deeply, Belle closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax completely, knowing that Adam was there and that no harm would come to her. Gaston was in custody anyway, and if she—and every other logical person in this town—had her way, he would never be a threat to anyone again. This comforting thought allowed her to let her mind drift off into a different place entirely.