A Voir Sans

II. Hôtel Littéraire

The Hôtel Littéraire was a historic building in the middle of Rue de Constantinople. Built in the later half of the 19th century, its ivory colored walls stretched high above the cafes and banks that lined the rest of the street, its arched windows like eyes that looked down on the comings and goings of guests for decades upon decades upon decades.

The staff was polite but restrained, directing them in accented English and looking at the group with curious and critical eyes. Olivia was painfully aware of how loud they all spoke and how casually they were dressed compared to the Parisians. She looked down at her wrinkled dress and her scuffed, worn flats and was suddenly grateful for the few nice outfits she had packed. On her wrist was the only real piece of jewelry she owned, a tarnished gold bracelet that once belonged to her father.

The salon, or living room, was the size of the apartment Olivia had grown up in. It was painted a pale, gentle blue, the furniture inside several shades of deep teal and soft, foamy white, giving the space a calm oceanic theme. On the walls were framed photographs of the beaches of Normandy, all sun and chalk-colored cliffs and water that stretched miles beyond the camera's focus. Before he died, Olivia's father would take her to the beach every Sunday. Those were some of her fondest memories with him. He worked as a shrimper on a fishing boat, so she always thought one day he would tire of the water; but he had an affinity towards it, and so did she, and they would spend whole afternoons floating on their backs and racing each other until their skin wrinkled and pruned from the sea and the sun darkened them both. Ultimately, though, it was the coast that took his life, and Olivia hasn't returned to the water since. She tensed without realizing, the tips of her fingers meeting her palms and the hard, plastic handle of her suitcase becoming slick with sweat. The others in the group wandered about the apartment, opening doors and peering in, and stepping out onto the balcony. Kate gasped and threw herself onto a couch, "It's gorgeous!" she exclaimed, stretching her freckled arms. "Hey Olivia, can I ask you something?"

She kept herself from going adrift.  "Sure," she blurted, without thought.

"Evan and I are thinking about going to a club down the street later tonight, do you wanna come along? We're planning on asking Mina and Isabel to come with, I think it'll be a great way for all of us to get to know each other."

Olivia had only second to hesitate, one second more and Kate might believe she was thinking of a polite way to brush her off, which wasn't her intention at all. Kate seemed to be a very easy person to be friends with, even if she seemed a bit unreachable at times. Olivia made a note to herself that should speak to her more often. In fact, she should probably speak more often in general. She made up her mind then that she would push herself to let all of the weight of her worrying slide off her shoulders so she could be also be light, carefree, and outgoing. The way she was before the flood came and left her with nothing but absence and need, washing away all that she was and all that remained of her life.

Yes, it was settled. Here, she'd be the girl she would have been. The girl who goes to clubs and makes friends and dances on rooftops by the Seine without a care in the world.

Part of wished she could convey all this to Kate, to anyone, in an attempt to explain herself, but she knew that it was uncomfortable and difficult to understand. Instead, she smiled, and said "I'd love to." in a warm and cheery voice, the same one she always used when she was trying her best to not seem depressed or standoffish, a voice that she became an expert on faking over the years. One day, she thought to herself, I'll meet someone and I'll be able to tell them why I am the way I am, and they'll take me by the wrists and lead me out of the cell I shut myself in without calling me a bummer or changing the subject to something that is convenient to them.

Kate beamed, lifting herself from the chaise. "Great! Ugh, I haven't had a good night out in awhile. Too bad we won't remember any of it in the morning." She laughed, and reached for the handle of her rolling bag."I should probably get to unpacking, I'll catch up with you when we head to the museum. "

Olivia returned Kate's parting smile as made her way out of the living room, her light, springy gait not weighed down in the least by her heavy bag, so overstuffed that the bottom of it spilled slightly over the wheels and dragged across the floor. As Olivia carried her bag to the bedroom she shared with Isabel at the end of the hallway, she tried to remember when her last good night out was. It was most likely with Jaiden, her best and only friend who she grew up with in the heat and the chaos of Harmony Oaks. She has known both Olivia's; the girl with the butterfly clips in her braids and the mischievous smile who stayed out with her on the playground of the complex until the streetlights came on and her mama's call cut right through the humid summer air, before Katrina came and split her world right in two and turned her into the near silent hermit who only worked and worried, who was only nineteen but felt ninety. She had seen the aftermath and stayed even though at times Olivia felt like a she was a only a shadow of the girl she was; flat, obscure, and hesitant. College had put a slight amount of distance between them, Jaiden having chose to go to veterinary school while Olivia went off to college in Baton Rouge to major in Art History, but they called other at least once a month, and sent texts that served as news bulletins and distress signals on days when one needed to hear from the other.

Olivia stepped into her shared suite. The bedrooms of the apartment were modern and minimalistic, renovated with hardwood floors and furniture that matched the blue and green tones of the common area. One thing that had not been renovated completely, however, was the restroom connecting the two bedrooms of the right side of the suite that were Olivia and Isabel's and Kate and Mina's. With walls that were original to the building and made of hollow, aging wood and plaster so thin it could be scratched away like chips of peeling paint, anyone standing in one room could hear what was going on in the other.

Olivia walked into the bathroom to change, closing the old-fashioned latch lock on the door behind her; it was small and delicate, with brass handles on the sink and yellow wallpaper that added charm and the distinct aura of another century. As she began to slide the dress from off of her shoulders, the narrow, painted over pipes that were bolted across the wall began to echo with the sound of Mina's voice on the other side.

"The club sounds like a good time, I won't stay the whole night through. I'm tired from the flight. Is it just Evan and you going?"

Kate's voice sounded closer, she was right beside the wall. "I invited Isabel and Olivia too."

"I doubt Olivia will end up going. There's something off about that girl."

"I think she's nice." Kate said, a distinct higher lift in her voice and the slight semblance of a a laugh, the southern way of trying not to directly contradict someone.

"I think she's weird. She doesn't talk to any of us and we've been in the same class for an entire semester. Isn't that right, Evan?"

Evan sounded a little tense. "I think she just keeps to herself. There's nothing wrong with that."

"No, I think it's something more. I've heard that there was an accident that left her messed up. That girl has no life, she's like a ghost. Oh well, at least she's not like Isabel and riding the professor 24/7." There was a brief silence, and Mina's sarcastic sigh returned. "Oh, don't tell me you haven't noticed."

Kate's voice got softer, lower, she was keeping a secret that was now known by all in the apartment. "Well, I never noticed before, but they do seem kinda close..."

Evan cut in, "There's no way. I-I mean...I don't think that's true at all."

Mina was insistent. "I'm telling you, pay attention next time you see them. All I'm saying is, Professor Kane ought to be more careful if he's going to go around hooking up with students. The language department might have to get a new chair soon."

Olivia felt her stomach drop to the floor. This potential landmine, that she felt was safe as long as she was the only one who walked around it, had now been by set off by Mina, and a hundred scenarios of what could happen flashed in her mind, each one worse than the next.

A pressing thud on the other side of the room brought her out of her ruminating, and the sound of Isabel's half-whispering voice led Olivia to walk over and lean her ear against the wall. "Andrew, not now." she groaned. "Someone's going to walk in and see. You should go." Then came Professor Kane's voice, low and soft with a warm, dulcet tone that Olivia could hardly recognize. "I thought I told you before, I really don't care if-" A pause. "Alright, Alright. I'll go, I'll see you in a bit..." There was the sensual sound of lips parting from a kiss. She heard footsteps that soon grew faint, and then the closing of a door.

Olivia looked at herself the mirror and wished she could step in.