La Tour De France
Part 2
friends were in no state of mind to take me home, and River, who was the only one completely sober, led me back to my dorm room. I could barely walk, and I was starting to feel kind of dizzy…alright, kind of was an understatement. I felt like I’d gone one too many rounds on a merry-go-round. Alcohol was most definitely not for me, I mean, it’s fun to have your inhibitions lowered, but I was already facing early regret.
‘River, I can’t-‘ I pled as we made our way up the long dark stairway, realising I couldn’t climb the stairs even if I tried in this state.
He didn’t say anything. He simply swept me off my feet like I was weightless, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed; I felt like I was a bother and like I’d ruined his night, his first night hanging out with his friends again, all because I couldn’t handle a few drinks.
‘I’m sorry I ruined your night.’ I apologised, letting out a sigh, ‘Maybe there’s still time for you to go back?’
‘Don’t apologize. You’re drunk.’ He spoke, and I could feel his chest heave up and down as we made it to the top of the stairs.
‘Do drunk apologies not count?’ I questioned,
‘Not in your case, no.’ he refuted.
‘I’m such an idiot.’ I groaned,
‘What you are is reckless. Do you understand what could’ve happened to you tonight? For fucks sake, Armani, I won’t always be there?’ He snapped, and I felt the reality of things begin to set in.
‘Well, I don’t want to imagine that.’ I responded and widened my eyes at the realisation of what I had just said, but went with it anyway, ‘My world would turn rather bleak without you there to pester me.’
‘What is it, you Americans say? Nice save,’ he mentioned below his breath, and my cheeks flushed.
‘That strange man, he wanted to hurt me, didn’t he?’ I asked, my voice small.
‘Worse, men like that ruin good things like you.’ He sneered, as he shoved open my dorm door and placed me gently on my bed like I were porcelain, and he thought he’d break me.
I had been many things in my life; talented, headstrong, determined and even beautiful, but never ever delicate. It was amusing to be perceived that way. I found a sense of comfort in it.
River stalked away to the bathroom, and I could hear the tap turn on. I got up and made my way in as well and sat on the edge of the tub.
‘I’m sorry about your shirt too.’ I apologized, wincing at the blue drink that had spilt on him earlier this evening.
‘You’re full of apologies today.’ he mused,
‘I’d never do it sober.’ I assured him, ‘My niceties towards you are reserved solely for when I’m out of my bloody mind. So feel free to bask in its glory while you still can, Kennedy.’
‘It’s fine.’ He simply acknowledged, starting to unbutton it. I couldn’t help but stare in awe.
‘You say that a lot, you know?’ I concluded, and he gave me a puzzled look in the mirror,
‘say what?’ he asks, completely oblivious.
‘That ‘it’s fine.’ I tell him, ‘Why?’
‘Because it has to be, Armani,’ he explained briefly, his voice trailing off.
He begun to take off his shirt, and I took notice of the way the material slipped off his shoulders first, and the muscles on his back flexed in unison. The artist in me took notice of every dimple, every freckle, every curve and dip of his perfect body. I jumped to my feet and looked in the mirror, at him, at us, and I couldn’t help but yearn to trail my fingers lightly onto his back. It was almost as if he could see the thought bubble forming in my mind and shot me a knowing glance.
‘Armani, you need to rest.’ He insisted, but I could tell from the undeniable rawness in his tone that a part of him didn’t want me to.
‘I’m tired anyways.’ I laughed and raced back into my room and plopped myself onto my bed. I closed my eyes as colours danced behind them in the dark.
‘You can’t sleep in that. Where are your night clothes?’ River asked. I couldn’t tell whether he was doing this because he wanted to do it or because he felt obligated to.
‘I can’t, or you just don’t want me to?’ I taunted, and he rolled his perfect blue eyes.
‘You quite literally cannot because it’s inhumane to go to bed in day clothes.’ he proclaimed, ‘and despite all evidence leaning towards so, I don’t take you for a heathen.’
‘Whatever,’ I teased with a giggle, ‘You can just leave. You don’t like me anyway, Mr grumpy pants.’
River closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I was testing his patience, and was it so wrong that I loved it?
He simply ignored my response and swung my wardrobe right open, and started rifling through the top drawer—but that wasn’t just my pyjama drawer. It was also my underwear drawer.
‘River, if you wanted to see my panties, you could’ve just asked.’ I chuckled. He only turned around and lifted a daring eyebrow that made my cheeks flush. ‘Whatever, J-Just close the drawer, you perv!’ And he did just tossing a pair of pink pyjama shorts and a simple grey top on my bed.
‘Put those on. I have to go.’ He Instructed,
‘Wherever are your manners?’ I gasped like the lead of a soap opera, ‘Putting a lady to bed without at least buying her dinner first?’
‘I don’t put ladies to bed very often. You just happen to be the exception to the rule.’ He deadpanned. ‘Now put those on—’
‘Of course, I will. Just tell me what your favourite cheese is?’ I giggled. I had no idea what I was talking about. All I knew was that I wanted him to stay.
‘My favourite cheese?’ He asked, looking at me like I’d lost my mind,
‘Don’t you like cheese?’ I pouted, and he turned around so I could change.
‘No, I don’t, now change.’ He seethed, still very shirtless, still very beautiful.
I slipped on my pyjamas reluctantly as my head began to spin again. Maybe I really did need to get some rest. Once I was done changing, I slid into my warm sheets, lay my head on my pillow, and then proceeded to dim the lamp on my nightstand.
‘Thank you.’ Was all I could manage to choke out, my eyelids beginning to feel heavy.
‘What for this time?’ River gibed with a sly smile I could see even in the dim lighting. He pulled up the chair from my desk and slid himself onto it, right in front of my bay window. Moonlight seeped through the blinds and highlighted River’s angel-like features, his strong angular jaw, and his narrow eyes were slits of ice in the moonlight’s seduction.
‘Everything.’ I replied with a yawn, ‘Isn’t this the part where you leave and act like this never happened?’
‘That was never my intention.’ River chimed like he knew something I didn’t. ‘Va te coucher.’
Sleep, he persisted and I did just that.
When I awoke in the early hours of the morning with a killer headache, Keomi was getting ready for class. I turned my gaze to my nightstand, where there was a glass of water and a note that read;
PARMIGIANA
-RK
I smiled to myself, remembering what I’d asked the night before. Funnily enough, that was all I could remember, all my mind could possibly fathom.
‘He never left, you know?’ Keomi sighed, lacing up her sneakers, looking ready to start the day.
‘What do you mean?’ I yawned, sitting up in bed,
‘He stayed all night.’ She continued, ‘You were wasted last night.’
‘Oh no!’ I groaned, sinking my head back into the comfort of my pillow,
‘You and River practically had sex on the dance floor.’ She laughed, and I felt a twinge of embarrassment,
‘You’re joking. Please tell me you’re kidding!’ I protested, sitting up in bed,
‘I wanted to toss you a pack of birth control right there.’ She laughed, and I couldn’t help but find amusement in it.
‘Once again, please tell me this is all a bad dream.’ I insisted.
‘I wish I could. I didn’t know you had moves. You’ve got to teach me sometime.’ Keomi winked, ‘It’s totally not a big deal, to me anyway.’
I gave her a warm and appreciative smile, proceeding to slip out of my sheets and down the glass of water on my bedside table before changing into a pretty yellow sundress for class. I’d bought it the summer I turned sixteen from a little shop on pier 39 in San Francisco. I recalled my face flushed from the heat of June, my body buzzing with adolescent anticipation, my fingertips sticky with coffee ice cream, and my entire being overflowing with potential. Keomi and I headed down the flight of stairs out of the dormitory block and all the way across campus. Just then, I saw Fabian, Geneviève, and Merilla, who looked like death quite frankly, curled up on a bench, wearing dark sunglasses and downing cups of coffee.
‘You look as bad as I feel.’ I pointed out, swallowing the dread building in my throat, hoping they wouldn’t poke fun at last night.
‘If it isn’t la meilleure décapante de toute la France.’ Genè slurred with a cruel smirk playing on her face. Her words taunted me, the best stripper in all of France.
‘Keomi, you swore it wasn’t that bad!’ I gasped in offence, and Keomi turned away in guilt.
‘It was quite the spectacular scene indeed.’ She laughed and then winced at what I’d assumed was a killer hangover headache.
My gaze caught Fabian’s in the hopes that he would defend me or even assure me it wasn’t what it looked like, but he just shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.
‘Come on, you guys, we’ve all done some crazy shit when we were drunk.’ Merilla interrupted, swinging a hand over my shoulder.
‘Not all of us, merci beaucoup.’ Gene warned,
‘Are you sure about that one, Gene?’ Merilla challenged.
‘Fabian, last summer on Antibes beach in the Riviera when you broke a 30-year-old bottle of whisky,’ Keomi recalled, and Fabian threw his hands up in the air in defeat.
‘Gene, the night your father threatened to cut you off if you didn’t improve your grades, you got wasted and danced on the hotel bar tabletop to the mama mia soundtrack and Jace had to drag you home,’ Merilla added and you could tell that the mention of Jace stirred up so many emotions in everyone.
‘It was not that bad—’ Gene defended,
‘It was the extended soundtrack and karaoke CD,’ Merilla added, and Gene glanced down.
‘Fine, we’ll spare you the torment this time, new girl.’ Gene sighed in defeat, and Fabian just shot me a slight smile, but I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he was mad at me about something, whatever that was.
We made our way to our first classes of the day, Gene and Merilla’s being philosophy and Fabian and I’s being European History. Keomi had a free period. I was dreading, more than anything having to face River. After all the events that transpired last night, I didn’t know how he could ever look at me the same. But maybe I didn’t want him to look at me the same. Perhaps some twisted part of me wanted him to see me as more than just a good girl. Maybe I wanted him to see me not as a girl but as a woman.
There was a time when I thought that perhaps a switch would flip in my mind as I crossed the bridge between being a girl and becoming a woman. I thought that maybe I’d feel it in my bones, that I’d wake up one day, and I’d be just a little taller, a little wiser. But it was almost as if it happened overnight. It’s the kind of thing that never dares to give you a warning. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. I woke up one day, and I had shed the skin of my childhood. I was born anew with new desires and wants. A new heart that tended to have a weaker moral compass and a longing for bad things.
We took our seats and the second River wandered into class. Like a phantom of my darkest intentions, I caught his eye, desperately trying to read him, but as usual, nothing. It was almost as if he had mastered the art of nonchalance. He was so effortlessly aloof that it made him entirely unapproachable. I got the sense that this was precisely what he wanted, to be ignored. But that’s the thing, it was impossible not to see him. I wondered if he knew. He glanced back at me, his blue eyes glinting with a hint of mischief in the sunlight… oh he definitely knew.
I glanced down and begun continuing our previous assignment that I hadn’t finished, writing in the blank spaces between the photographs. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that someone was staring at me so I glanced up and my gaze met River’s yet again, he shot me a glare that asked what was wrong, but I simply shook my head and proceeded to do my work. Once I was done, I made my way to the front of the class to show our teacher my notebook. He nodded in approval and called for River to come up to the front as well.
‘Très bien Armani, since you and monsieur Kennedy are the only ones done, you may compare notes.’ He instructed, and I turned to face River, all the flashbacks of last night hit me, and I felt nothing but embarrassment.
‘No, thank you, monsieur, I’ll be fine,’ I assured him, feeling my cheeks flush as I turned on my heel to go back to my seat.
Later that day, during a free period, Fabian and I decided to stop at the local Farmers market because he had to buy some greens for his mom. I felt like I could finally breathe and like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. The sunlight bled through the tents as we tossed the carrots and red apples into the basket.
‘Do you do this for your mother often?’ I asked him as he checked something off the list in hand,
‘Only when her assistant is off work.’ He assured me, ‘But I don’t mind. I like helping her.’
‘I used to go grocery shopping for my parents all the time. I was their assistant.’ I joked, and he laughed, ‘But I didn’t mind either. At least it got me out of the house.’
‘Oh, do tell Armani, I’m guessing you were quite the party animal.’ Fabian instigated wiggling his eyebrows,
‘You know better than I do. That that’s not true.’ I assured him, ‘If I must admit, you guys are my first real friends.’
‘Wait, really?’
‘Yeah, I never had time to sustain any friendships, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think people at my old school took much of a liking to me. But I also don’t think I ever let them know me regardless.’
‘What a pity.’ Fabian marvelled,
‘What’s a pity?’
‘That you can’t see how incredibly fascinating you are.’ He lingered, and my gaze held his, perhaps a moment too long.
‘How long have you known Merilla and the others?’ I asked Fabian, and he paused for a moment to think.
‘Keomi and I have been friends since première, which is the eleventh grade, I believe. She’s my best friend, and we’ve grown up together through all the phases. And trust me, if I stuck beside her through her K-pop phase, I could survive an apocalypse.’
‘That explains the Stray Kids shrine hidden in her closet.’ I wondered out loud,
‘The what?’
‘Nothing!’ I exclaimed, holding my hands up in surrender and accidentally dropping the apple in my hand, it rolled along the pavement, and I chased after it until it hit the monolith boot of someone standing in front of me, the side of the shoe had a silver Prada logo engraved onto it, and I watched as the person flicks his foot upwards and the apple lifts off and lands in the palm of his hands. I’d been in a hell of a lot of embarrassing situations throughout the eighteen years of my life, but this took the cake by far. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath cursing to myself before slowly standing up as my eyes met River’s.
He was dressed in all black, except for the silver Vivienne Westwood around his neck and hanging from his earlobes. It was a subtle sense of style that was impossible to miss. But unfortunately, I couldn’t quite focus on any of that when I was in the process of avoiding conversation with him at all costs.
‘Northern Spy,’ River spoke, his voice low and clear.
‘Huh?’ I asked, slightly puzzled.
‘This is a Northern Spy apple. They are rather notorious for bruising easily.’ He warned, and I took notice to the reed basket filled to the brim with lettuce, cauliflower and broccoli.
‘Why do you know facts about apples?’ I asked in confusion,
‘Why don’t you?’ He quipped before asking for 3 pounds of apples from the lady behind the stand, who appeared seemingly starstruck by him. ‘Gravensteins are of far better taste.’
‘I— thanks.’ I mentioned grabbing the apples that he had just paid for from him, ‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘No, I didn’t.’ He affirmed, and I spun on my heel, turning back and searching for Fabian who was standing by the rather curious-looking pineapples.
‘Where’d you get those?’ Fabian asked curiously,
“River just paid for your mom’s apples.” I deadpanned in complete shock.
“Really? That’s really nice of him. I’ll have to give him a call.” Fabian smiled, puzzled, “He’s always here though, basically lives at the farmers market.”
“He knows an awful lot about apples,” I commented and Fabian, and I burst out into laughter, tears of mirth collecting in the corners of his eyes.
“Oh, just wait for the celery speech,” Fabian added,
“There’s a celery speech too?” I gasped, chasing after him. “Wait— what’s there to say about celery?”
“Hold on, let me pay for this. I’ll be back!” Fabian told me, walking off to the checkout and holding his wallet.
I strode off a little further to examine the curious-looking bunches of celery. River was standing by his car, engaging in a conversation audible to me on the phone.
“Travailler avec elle est un cauchemar honnêtement, c’est presque une corvée de devoir étendre mon expertise à quelqu’un de si manifestement en
dessous de moi et incompétent.” He spoke, plainly leaning against the door. Working with her is a nightmare. Honestly, it’s almost a chore to have to extend my expertise to someone so evidently below me and incompetent. My heart sank at his words, and I immediately was able to conclude that he was talking about me. I mean, who else could it be? My hurt instantaneously metamorphosed into anger and confusion. I turned my back to his image and felt the impact of his words. Did he really think I was below him and incompetent? If so, there was no reason for me to ever want to work beside him again.
Once the next period of class was over, I rushed to be the first out of class to avoid any awkward encounters, but just as I had made my way to the end of the hallway, I felt someone’s hand grip firmly around my arm and hold me against the wall. Not a person was in sight. If I were to scream, no one would hear me, but I figured that River would find amusement in my screaming. Therefore, I would offer him no such thing.
‘Why?’ River asked, and I was molten under his touch. He was close, so close, ‘why are you avoiding me?’
“Why not?” I retorted coldly,
“The distance you are putting between us will be the death of you, not me.” He mused, and I could feel the heat of annoyance fuming inside of me.
“Is that so?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes,
“Yes, I rather relish in my solitude, and while I usually couldn’t care less, I find you rather amusing. You’re like a bad habit I can’t seem to curb, but I’ll admit burning my lungs out with a pack of Marlboros might’ve been a better idea.” He concluded drifting topics,
“I can’t seem to fathom why you’d ever want to reason with someone so incompetent and evidently below you?” I quoted, and he seemed somewhat confused,
“Je ne comprends pas…” He begins, I don’t understand, but I immediately cut him off.
‘Look, I’m sorry about last night.’ Was all I could manage to choke out, ‘I’m so ashamed of myself. Believe me, I am. But I deserve better than to be treated like this.’
River’s gaze softened at that, and I’d hoped that he would say something, anything.
‘Armani I-‘ River began, but this time, I cut him off again. This time, I’d had enough.
‘You wanted to hurt me.’ I seethed, seeing right through him, ‘Well, congratulations Kennedy.’
And then I was released from his touch, I spun away and made my way down the hallway to my next class.
