A/N: Minor revisions made September 2013.
À la fin du octobre
My mum was right.
My relationship with Ellie – or lack thereof – is not the end of the world. Neither are my feelings for Anna.
No, the end of the world is knowing that your mum has cancer and that there's nothing you can do about it.
Not when she needs care and money only your bastard father can provide – and only under the terms he sets. Like ordering you to stay in Paris, away from your dying mother, because school is more important than the potential last days, months, of her life.
Right.
I feel like I'm ready to kill him by the time Josh and I get to the bar, mere hours after my mum called to deliver the horrible news.
We've decided on an English ex-pat spot near campus, where patrons are shouting at various English Premier League matches. It's an oddly comforting reminder of London, the second home I still sometimes miss, even if I don't like sport.
As we sit down, I'm thankful we broke away from the girls. They all gave me these pitying looks when I nearly fainted at the news at Père Lachaise. I couldn't take it – seeing the pain I felt mirrored back at me – and ran as fast as I could out of there, with Josh not far behind.
"I can't fucking believe this," I say, drinking from my Guinness. "This is so typical of him."
"I can't either," Josh says. "It's really fucked up."
"To bastard fathers," I say, clanging my glass against Josh's.
"Don't I know it," he says. He talks about his own father, a U.S. Senator, whom he hasn't even spoken to since school has started. Josh's mother's not much better. His entire family is as obsessed with keeping up appearances as my father's.
We keep ordering rounds. By midnight, the alcohol has numbed me enough that I've almost forgotten why I'm here. Josh, too. We sing along, terribly off-key, to the booming soundsystem. People have started to join us.
"Sing it, St. Clair!" Josh wails. A One Direction song is playing and he's practically in hysterics.
"I'm not Harry what's-his-name," I sing-song.
"But you have his hair," Josh sings back.
I try to shove him but miss terribly, nearly falling off the chair. As I try to steady myself, I see a tall-ish girl with dark brown hair near Josh.
"Anna?"
Josh turns around. "Where?"
"That girl there, in the blue dress."
"Not even close, St. Clair," Josh says, laughing. "Wow…You've got it real bad."
"Shut up," I say. "I don't have anything for anyone."
"Keep telling yourself that," Josh says.
We down more beers. Someone calls for shots.
"Take me to her," I say, downing my last shot of Jäger.
"I'm taking you to Ellie," Josh says. "'s where you need tobe to-night."
"No," I say. "Don't want to."
"Did you call her yet?" Josh asks.
"Yeah, after speaking to the bastard, " I say. "Left a message, but she's too busy being a slutty nurse."
"Ha!" Josh says. "I knew it!"
"Piss off," I say. "Be a friend and take me to Ah-nuh."
"I don't think iss good idea," he says. "Rash will kill me."
"She won't carrrre," I say. "I'm more pissed than you anyway."
Josh debates aloud what he should do. The room suddenly feels hotter, louder. The room spins slightly, then faster, then slower again.
"Ahhh-nuuuh," I say. "Now!"
Josh puts down a bunch of Euros and pushes me off my chair. We stagger into the night, swaying back and forth, as tears start to sting my eyes in anger.
So much for the numbing properties of booze.
A half-hour later, we arrive at Lambert, stumbling loudly up to Anna's floor. I cling to the banister of the staircase – the only thing that's keeping me upright.
"If Rash actually does kill me," Josh says. "You are sooooo getting blamed."
"But who will blame me?" I ask, grasping at the walls. "You'll be dead, right?"
"Pissssof," he says.
"Don't steal…my lines….maaaaate" I say, pulling myself up that final stair.
We arrive at Anna's door, still bickering. Neither of us bothers to knock. It doesn't matter, though, since we've made enough commotion to interrupt whatever it was she was doing in there.
She opens the door, her face pale in shock. "Jesus," she says. "Where have you been? You guys reek."
"Sorry," Josh says, dragging me inside. "He said wehadtuh comeup 'ere."
What happened next, well….I don't remember.
Au début du novembre
"You were really drunk," Josh says a few days later at Breakfast in America on rue des Écoles. "I mean, really, really drunk."
"I gathered that," I say, drowning my pancakes in imitation maple syrup. "Weren't you as well?"
"Yes," he says. "But I have a higher tolerance than you. So I can actually remember that night."
"That's bollocks," I say.
"All right, then," he says. "Tell me what you said to Anna."
Fuck. I remember we went to her room and ended up waking up the next day in my bed, more hungover than I've ever been.
"Conjugations," I say. "I've been helping her out with irregular verb conjugations."
Josh laughs. "You wish," he says. "You told her that you liked her."
"And?" I say. "She's a good friend."
"You told her you liked as more than a friend."
I give Josh a blank stare. I couldn't have said that. Could I? Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Calm down, St. Clair," he says. "There are children around here."
A young father gives me a dirty look, covering his daughter's ears. I mouth an apology. I had no idea I'd started speaking aloud but, given the circumstances, I don't think it can be helped.
"Did she…say anything?" I say.
Josh pauses, looking thoughtful, almost. "She said something about Ellie."
"Of course she did," I say, somewhat bitterly.
"Hey, don't look like that," Josh says. "It's not all bad. I mean, you threw up on her before she really had a chance to say much more."
I wince. Anna has a whole arsenal of cleaning product in her room. And now I've apparently vomited on the biggest neat-freak I know. Nice one, Etienne.
"Well, this is worse than what I thought happened," I say. "Much, much worse."
"You know she likes you," Josh says. "Hell, we all know she likes you."
"I'll admit," I say. "I sometimes think she does. But then she talks about that bloke back home sometimes. The one with horrific sideburns."
Josh laughs. "He's not here," he says. "You are. Things change."
"Yeah, but – there's my mum, my father," I say.
"Stop making excuses," Josh says. "Just do something about it."
"I can't," I say. "If I break up with Ellie, my father will be furious. And when he's furious, he does completely irrational things. Things like taking away money from us. And we can't afford that right now, not with mum being so ill."
Josh is quiet for a few moments. I fidget with the sugar packs, uncomfortable at the direction our conversation has gone.
"Wow," he says finally. "He's more fucked up than I thought."
I nod. "Yeah," I say. "He is."
As I finish my meal, my mobile vibrates with a new message.
-Come over?
It's from Ellie.
-Be there soon.
That's how it has to be.