SAY MY NAME - [J. DESCAMPS]

ELEVEN

ROSE

"Detention ? Seriously, Rose ?"

I was sat on the couch of our living room, face cast down while my father was lecturing me about what happened a few weeks ago in Herman's classroom. It's right when I got back from the store, after my weird encounter with Descamps, that he had called out my name, saying that he just got a phone call by a certain Monsieur Bellanger and he just wanted to talk about it.

"Why did you do that ?" he asked with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dad, it's a mistake I swear. I didn't stole these frogs, I—"

"So, you're basically telling me that this man called me and lied to me ? That is what you're saying ?" My father said and I stayed silent. "Because if it's the truth, I'll immediately call him back to tell him that my daughter did nothing wrong. Except that this isn't the case, right ?"

"Dad..."

He shook his head and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back at me. "You know at first I didn't believed him. My daughter stealing frogs ?" he scoffed. "Yeah, and what's next ? But he found your ring and you literally admitted your fault. What others proofs do I need ?"

"What do you want me to say ? I'm sorry," I muttered reluctantly, letting myself sink into the couch. This was so embarrassing and I just wanted to disappear.

"Rose... this isn't some sort of game, this is your future."

"Dad, it's just frogs—"

"It's not just frogs, no !" he snapped. "You are a girl, in a school full of boys, where the teachers are not very happy that you can benefit from the same education as them, you know what I mean ? These types of mistakes could cost you your place."

I looked away, feeling a little too exposed by his piercing gaze. "I know that !"

"You know it and yet you still did that !"

My mom came out of the kitchen to put in front of me a plate of food and a glass of water. "It's alright, I knew someone who was worse at sixteen."

"Yeah, you," my father said bitterly.

"You've got such nerve sometimes, Thierry..."

"Oh, please," he waved her off. "Not now."

"Who's that boy by the way ?" my mother asked. "The one Bellanger mentioned. Deschamps."

I can't help myself but scoff. "It's Descamps, mom."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Who's that ? A friend of yours ?"

"Who cares !" my father yelled. "Your daughter just got detention because she stole frogs at school and you're asking her about a boy ?"

"It's just one of my classmate, mom," I replied, ignoring my father's complaints. "He's punished for something else."

"What did he do ?"

He just brought a porn magazine at school but I'm not going to tell you that. "He punched some guy, I think."

"Hm..."

My father grabbed his journal. "I'm going to bed, have fun talking about boys."

"Jealous ?" my mother taunted him but he ignored her, heading to the stairs without a word.

She sat on the couch, just next to me, while I was playing with my fork. She slapped my hand. "Don't play with the food."

"I'm not really hungry," I mumbled, pushing away my plate of pasta.