𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 - Valerie Belcourt is sent to a small town of southwestern France, where the air was gloomy and as dramatic as her. She finds herself in the high school Voltaire, a school allowing both female and male students to study alongside each oth...
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
Valerie's footsteps stopped in front of the gate, she analyzed the building and the awaiting students who mainly stayed in groups—they were also mainly boys, much to Valerie's distaste which could be seen by her slightly narrowed eyes. a few girls arrived already, Valerie's black mary janes were stuck to the pavement below her. just breathe. she sighed and watched a blonde girl with a dark blue dress make her way confidently to school. her hair flew majestically with the wind and Valerie knew that she'd never match the beauty of the French girl.
the brunette let down her hair that was up in a slick ponytail. tying back only a few strands of hair with a black bow in a half up half down hairstyle. she fixed the slight creases in her skirt hurriedly, and gripped her school bag closer to her shoulders. Valerie straightened her back and elevated her head in a way Geneviève Allard would do, with arrogance and demeanor carrying her footsteps as she made her way into the school's gates.
from the corners of her eyes, Valerie could see the way heads turned and boy's eyes glanced over her body like she was prey to hungry wolves, ready to consume. few girls looked her up and down, noting every little detail of her body, her clothes, hair and posture the rest of them looked at her with admiration. it felt draining to be the center of attention. Valerie could hear the conversations stopping, sentences hanging in the air and only the click of her shoes against the pavement resonated.
"I thought there would be only eleven of them? who's this one?" a boy in a bench asked his friend who looked intrigued, the boy fixed his glasses and swallowed his surprise. fixing his posture, Joseph Descamps' unwavering pride and cruelty resumed. he cleared his throat so that his deepened voice would not crack, "I don't know. doesn't look like she's from here." the boy with glasses answered his friend, Dupin. on the other side of Dupin came Applebaum, the tall, skinny, blonde boy had come to deliver the news of the mystery that came with the new student.
"Felbec said she's American, living with her grandparents for now. heard her swear in English as one of her suitcases fell down a puddle of mud." the blonde stiffled a laughter, "can you believe it? a girl like that, swearing her heart out in the middle of the streets." Applebaum shook his head.
"is she the Boucher's granddaughter?" Dupin inquired with his eyes stuck to Valerie's ass. "no, the Allards's. they live right in front of his house, the one with the red car." Applebaum confirmed.
"poor her," Joseph Descamps remarked, "I'd hate to live with those old hags. although being Felbec's neighbor should be more of a reason." the three laughed. "hey, maybe we should even pay a visit to our dear friend Felbec. don't you think?" Dupin added on.
"he also said he only saw her once, she got here two days ago. didn't leave the house or anything." Applebaum added to their gossip.
"poor thing must be scared." Joseph finished off with a side smirk, pushing his fingers to his thin framed glasses to fix them.
Valerie's head turned to Joseph Descamps and his surrounded duo, like she'd heard them talking about her. but her eyes lingered over the boy in glasses longer, she was unaware why his presence was so alluring as he stared back. Valerie knew trouble when she saw it, like she knew that trouble brought attention—something she desperately attempted to distance herself from. she averted his gaze.
the seemingly perfect, beautiful blonde girl stood on her own next to a tree, unlike many girls who seemed to have already found their cliques amongst each other. that made Valerie scared, scared that her and the other girls wouldn't form a meaningful bond that she desperately believed she needed, being part of the minority of Voltaire High.
she made her way towards the blonde haired girl, nonchalantly. after all, Valerie didn't want to bother the girl. the wind whispered as it passed through the two of them, blonde and brown hair mixing together with the wind. Valerie silently cursed it for making a slight mess in her now disheveled hair. "the wind is quite strong today," the blonde haired girl remarked, her head turned to her silent companion though her eyes remained on the crowd whose eyes did not leave their bench.
"sure is," Valerie retorted. brown eyes meeting the blonde's green shade ones who widened in intrigue with the slight accent added to her words. "I'm Annick Sabiani, and you are?" "Valerie Belcourt." the two shook hands with a curt nod and a polite smile they hoped didn't have hidden bare teeth with malicious intentions behind.
"you're not from here, I suppose?" Annick questioned curiously, though she did not mind the slobby French. Valerie shook her head in denial, "got here two days ago, my mother sent me from the United States." the girl answered bluntly.
"I see," Annick nodded with a small smile, knowing that an alliance was brewing. Valerie turned her head to the remaining students, one of them— a boy with glasses and chestnut brown hair stood up and began to step closer, he had the devil's smirk on his lips as he analyzed the American girl. thankfully for Valerie, the bell rung and students began to make their way to the yearly initiating ceremony Dean Bellanger did for the entirety of his career as Dean of Voltaire High.
˚ · • . ° .
there was a slight problem in Valerie's eyes, one she found herself regretting greatly. the regret was landing such a strong blow on Sharon Williams that made the evil girl lay on a hospital bed and herself all the way on Europe. had she not done so, she would not be sharing a homeroom with a person in which she immediately labeled as trouble; who seemed keen on fixating his dark brown hair eyes on her and enjoyed seeing her squirm under his gaze. and how could she not? it seemed to pierce right through her, and she did not enjoy the feeling.
one may say to not read a book by its covers, but Valerie had a good instinct for rightfully judging a person's character. and the boy she learned his name to be Joseph Descamps just had that look of trouble and mischief in him. it followed his every trace, his side smirk and the slight crease of his eyes, the way he laid back in his chair in a cool manner, and every little mannemarism Valerie could note.
she pretended not to notice it, pretended not to feel his gaze burning in her head. she focused on the classroom instead, there were currently two girls sitting together in front of her—Simone and Michele, the three spoke briefly as they made their way to the classroom without the blonde in a dark blue dress that had briefly gone missing.
a minute or so later, Annick Sabiani stepped through the door of their class with a curious look about her. "look, Pichon is about to pee in his pants." Jean Dupin, known as Joseph's best friend remarked to the latter who grinned as his eyes—to Valerie's relief— left the American student's figure.
"I am Mrs.Giraud, your homeroom teacher." the strict woman presented herself and Valerie winced slightly at the roughness of her voice. it was clear this woman was unkind to the young students by her tight bun, framed glasses and dark lipstick followed by rough, wrinkled features. Valerie had enough strict teachers in the United States to recognize each and one of them by their clothes and the narrowing of their eyes as it pierced each student's eyes with a hatred she'd never comprehend.
the lesson was long and bothersome, apart from the many shared glances between Valerie Belcourt and Joseph Descamps that ignited something in their hearts above intrigue.
———————- YALL I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR THE SMALL UPDATES, it's been a busy week 😣
