Chronicle of a sentimental girl

Chapter 3 : E.T

[translated from french]

I don't remember the first few months of my third year of college. I think that means that nothing special happened. I only remember going to Germany in November. Our German teacher organized an exchange with a school near Frankfurt every year. This year it was finally our turn to enjoy this little language vacation. Salomé and Manon were on the trip and even if they still didn't speak to each other, I was happy to have them with me. On the train, Manon was reading peacefully in front of me. The landscape passed slowly through the wide window of the high-speed train: the first snows of winter appeared on the edge of the rails as we headed a little further north. The teacher passed gently between the rows, checking that everyone was calm. Hearing Salome's laughter in the distance, I remember thinking that I would most likely stay with Manon during the trip. She would need me more to counteract the loneliness.

The days were organized in a very precise way. We visited museums, met young Germans, walked around the city center. It was an extraordinary stay, even though it was terribly cold. On the first evening, as I was getting to know my host family, they decided to take me on a tour of their small village downtown. It was snowing hard outside and my coat and heavy sweater were not enough to keep me warm. I have never been as cold as I was that day. The icy breeze seeped through my wide sleeves, my face was frozen in the cold, I couldn't feel my nose.

One morning, as we visited the Hundertwasser building in the heart of the city, Salomé and Manon started to talk together: I was over the moon. For the first time, I could see a connection between the two of them. While I was looking at the extravagant colored building and listening with one ear to the long and boring explanation of the guide, he spoke to us. A big smile adorned his face. He had come to tell us in an indolent way that he found the inhabitants of the building extremely strange. We laughed stupidly, Salome hastened to point out an old man twisted by age who looked strangely like the hideous janitor of the Harry Potter saga. We laughed even harder.

Suddenly, I realized that I had not really paid attention to him since the beginning of the trip. I could see him from a distance, but he was totally unimportant to me. And at that very moment when we were laughing so hard that our stomachs hurt, time seemed to stop. How could I not have seen him before? Not that he was particularly handsome or funny, but he gave off something incredible, something inexplicable. Some would call it charisma, but for me it was more than that: a golden halo surrounded him, making him the only person worth seeing among the group. I don't know what the rest of our discussion that day was about, most likely some childish nonsense. But I will remember for the rest of my life that strange feeling that went through my body and mind.

That night, before going to sleep, as I was writing my travel diary recalling my adventures of the day, I tried to express what had happened but I was too young to find the words. My first instinct was to say that I hoped something would happen between us, my eyes shining with hope: "It must have been what people call love at first sight", I thought. I quickly changed my mind: if someone came across the notebook, I would be the laughing stock of the school. I would hold my pen and simply write: "Today I made a new friend, his name is Thomas. ".

The next day, the day after and the days after that, Thomas stayed with Salomé, Manon and me. I remember the places we went to, but most of all, I remember him in those places: him sitting in the little train crossing the city, stumbling at the ice rink or even trying with difficulty to follow us during the orienteering race. We did the tours together and spent our free time laughing and wandering between the market stalls in Frankfurt. I can still feel the enchanting atmosphere of the Christmas season: all the colored lights hanging on the buildings, the smell of mulled wine and gingerbread, the excitement of the children spotting the seller of stuffed animals and knitted socks in the distance.