Luc and I couldn't schedule a time for the next book club meeting (which he had started to call it after he determined that we were actually discussing the book together, not that he was doing all the discussing by himself) until a week after our volunteering hours in the preschool. It wasn't his fault though—rugby practice had ramped up for him since our school team was approaching its first league game.

On the other hand, I was bored to death. I'd finished all my major homework assignments and projects, and now, I had nothing to do but to study. Boring.

But anyway, he'd texted me randomly on a Sunday night (giving me a heart attack since my phone notifications were on high), and he'd told me to read a couple chapters ahead (which kind of broke our contract, but Luc protested that the contract was null and void since we never actually signed it). So after school on a Thursday at exactly 3:20pm (I actually had no afterschool activities!), I sat in a coffee shop not too far away from our school campus, idly fidgeting with the cover of Madame Bovary.

I could never really get over how damn ugly the book was.

Luc was late.

I couldn't really be bothered. I never actually read ahead since I'd given up after seeing the first few words of chapter eight (souvent, lorsque Charles était sorti, to be exact). I might as well try now to make it look like I cared. A little.

The bell above the coffee shop dinged, and I automatically looked up from my phone (I was trying to figure out what lorque meant). It was Nolan, Luc's teammate from rugby. I wasn't too surprised since this place was one of the popular hangouts for kids from our school. Honestly, I didn't really like going here since running into my classmates was always awkward.

Nolan caught sight of me and smiled, starting to head in my direction. Uh oh. I hastily took a sip of my lukewarm coffee.

"Hey," he said, sliding into the chair across from me (that was where Luc was supposed to sit). "What's up?"

"Reading. Dying from all my homework. You know, the usual." I took another sip of my coffee and coughed. "And you?"

"Rugby practice is killing me. I actually think Coach'll play me this game though, so I think it's all worth it." He paused. Thank goodness he actually stopped talking about himself. I never really knew what to say when other people were going on about themselves. "Are you waiting for someone?"

Hm. "A teammate of yours, actually." I paused. "Have you seen Luc?"

"You've been hanging around him a lot." He raised an eyebrow.

Yeah, he didn't need to comment any further about that, because I knew that he would take the next step and make my feelings about my friend Luc synonymous to those of Olivia. "We discuss French, thank you very much."

"Right." Nolan stretched in the chair and placed his hands behind his head. "He's late, isn't he? He's a downright asshole sometimes."

What was up Nolan's ass today? Or maybe he'd always been like this when it came to Luc. I really should have noticed. Lila usually was the person who pointed out things like this to me. I shrugged to myself.  "If you say so." I glanced over his shoulder.

The coffee door dinged, and another Excelsior (the name of my school really did sound elitist, now that I thought about it) student walked in. He was on his phone, like he was some sort of famous company executive, and when he looked up, he made eye contact with me like "seriously?".

"Hey, Luc," I said loudly when Luc was standing right next to Nolan.

Nolan stood up hastily. "Oh, hey, man," he said, sounding a little guilty. I didn't know if that was because of his conversation with me or because of something else he had with Luc previously. I raised my eyebrows at Luc.

Luc didn't bother responding to me (he was such a jerk sometimes). "What's up?" He did some sort of weird man handshake with Nolan, who headed off to the other side of the café afterwards (rather quickly). I rolled my eyes at the two of them and took a sip from my coffee. I was almost finished with it anyway.

My French tutor (or something like that) sat down in the seat that Nolan had pulled out for him and placed his backpack next to him.

"You scared him off quickly." My voice sounded a little accusatory, but again, I couldn't help teasing. Luc was so fun to tease.

Luc shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

He didn't take the bait. Now that was something new. Usually, he always had something sarcastic to say to me (whether it was about my inferior French skills or my horrid driving or whatever). "Hey," I said. I pushed my nearly empty coffee cup across the little table to him. "You can take a sip if you want."

Luc scrunched his eyebrows together. "I'd rather kill myself rather than put my mouth where your mouth used to be," he responded flatly.

Ouch. But at least he had something to say, right?

I handed over my copy of Madame Bovary. "I didn't really read—" I started to say guiltily.

"It's nothing." He shrugged. "I'm, uh, gonna go grab a drink." And with that, he took off to the line of coffee enthusiasts in front of the counter with his hands in his pockets, slouching.

Yeah, there was definitely something going on with him. First of all, Luc Mercier never tried to avoid a conversation. If I had to say so, he sought it out (he very much liked making others feel intellectually inferior to him). And he really belonged in the spotlight. He belonged there.

Second of all, he never slouched. See, in Excelsior, our school, everyone was required to take ballroom dancing, and Luc was always brilliant at having good posture. Not to mention that he had a natural grace that was probably from all his years of athletics.

Third of all, he looked tired. For all I knew, he was a ball of endless energy who could juggle three sports (rugby, soccer, and basketball, all during different seasons, of course) and four AP classes at the same time. Hell, I couldn't really compare him to his sister, who was a genius in her own right, because she didn't handle as much as he did.

I frowned and took another sip of my coffee, which was then officially finished.

It was kind of stupid of me to sit there dumbly while waiting for him (which took a long time since the line of coffee enthusiasts was pretty long). But I really did not feel like making my way through a chapter of basically incoherent French.

When Luc came back, I looked up at him expectantly. "What's your drink?"

Why the hell was I asking him that? I honestly had no idea.

"Cappuccino with an extra shot." He sat down heavily, his foot hitting mine.

I retracted both of my feet immediately, for some reason. "Extra caffeine? I thought you were totally anti-energy drinks."

He closed his eyes and shrugged slowly. "I guess today's an exception."

I leaned back in my seat and decided to re-plan my conversational tactics. I really shouldn't have been left with this. I sucked at making conversation. It was usually Luc who excelled at this social strategy. To say the least, he did not choose an appropriate successor.

After a second, I started slowly, "So how's rugby?"

He didn't respond for a moment. I fidgeted with my phone under the table. Maybe I had to call Lila to pick him up to take him back home (he needed some serious rest, from what I could see). But then I remembered that Lila was still in her math club, so that was out of the question.

"Tiring," Luc answered abruptly. I jumped in my seat. His voice was so raspy that he was starting to sound like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. (That guy was seriously creepy. He was the reason I never watched the series at night.)

"Elaborate?"

He shrugged again. "Coach has been pushing us. He's definitely playing me the next game. I wish he'd pick someone else."

Didn't he always want the spotlight, though? Opening my mouth, I shut my mouth because that was probably a little mean of me to say. I reconsidered. I looked up and met his amber eyes squarely.

Now that was something a girl couldn't handle. I held my breath as I watched his eyes seem to smolder darkly. His expression set. It was a little scary for me to watch him like this. He was always so self-assured and in control of everything, whether that was his body or his environment. What was this?

I looked over his shoulder. Nolan was sitting at a table with a couple of guys from the rugby team, grinning as they pushed each other around. "And Nolan?"

Luc's expression was indifferent. He looked coolly at me and turned around briefly (at Nolan, oh no!). "Nolan," he said stiffly when he was facing me again, "is a jealous son of a bitch."

So that was what everything was about.

Quietly, I said, "Hey, maybe we should get started on our discussion. You have something after this, right?"

Closing his eyes, he nodded. "A Science Olympiad meeting with a couple of guys at my place."

I opened my book. After all, it was my turn to take the initiative. "So, as I mentioned," I said slowly, "right now, we're at the point in which Emma, or the new Madame Bovary, is already disillusioned with her life. I mean, Charles is one dull dude, and he's as stupid as hell. Emma wants to be a rich lady in Paris, and she's stuck in some country town in the middle of nowhere."

"She dreams way too much," Luc commented, snorting.

"Yeah." I paused. "I would like to make a confession to you right now."

"Go on." Luc rubbed his eyes, which reminded me of the contacts in my own eyes. My left eye twitched. My vision from over there always got blurry from time to time, which really annoyed me. I scratched my left eyebrow.

When I didn't say anything, Luc opened his eyes again and looked at me, eyes still dull but looking more annoyed now. Good. I was getting a reaction out of him. "Go on," he repeated.

"I actually didn't read that chapter. Or chapter three, like you told me to. I, uh, searched up some chapter summaries and memorized some smart-sounding analyses." I cleared my throat. I really wanted another coffee, but that would probably keep me up all night. Luc didn't respond. "So...are you mad at me?"

He blinked a couple times at me. "Hm?" He closed his eyes again, and, recollecting his thoughts as he shook his head, he said, "Mm, I don't really care."

I glanced down at my copy of Bovary. "Um, you've always cared about my reading comprehension skills. If it makes you feel better, I understand about thirty percent of this book right now, and you need to fucking translate the vocab for me."

The corners of his mouth lifted. "So you can't survive without me?"

"Yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. "I can't do without my personal French tutor. He's usually fantastic, and right now, he's being a butt by basically emulating Charles Bovary, the idiot."

I watched his spirits deflate, for some reason. "The idiot," he repeated hollowly. "Yeah, I sometimes wish I was stupid."

I raised my eyebrows even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me. "You don't always want to prove that you're intellectually superior to other people? Shocker."

He took his heads away from his eyes and hit mine squarely again. God, his eyes were so damn pretty. It was like they were holding me in, like a pit of quicksand I knew I'd never be able to recover from. And I was totally okay with that. I sucked in a breath.

"You know, Audrey?" he said quietly. "You shouldn't assume things so quickly."

That stung hard. I let out my breath and looked down at my hands. I bit my lip. "Yeah, I've always had an issue with that."

"Expectations can kill, A. The pressure's on me, and I fucking don't know what to do." He ran his hands through his hair. I noticed (a little randomly, granted) that he hadn't touched his coffee. It was probably still kind of warm right now, so if he drank it, it would be just right...

Yeah, I needed to get my head back on track.

"Hold out. Junior year does end, you know. And next thing, you'll be in college." What was I supposed to say? I didn't know.

"Only more expectations there." He followed my eyes down to his coffee. "Yeah, I guess I should drink that."

I nodded. "Hey," I said gently, "chill, 'kay? I won't judge if you act stupid today. Just...help me understand this damn chapter."

Slowly, Luc's eyes met mine again. "Well," he said, his eyes starting to sparkle a little, "I guess I could manage that." And he reached across the table, taking my book, flipping open to chapter nine, and began to read.

"Souvent, lorsque Charles était sorti...Lorsque means 'when' or 'as soon as', by the way..."

He didn't have to know, but he'd exceeded my expectations already a long, long time ago.

→

And chapter nine (which we mention in MB too, ironically) is here!

This chapter does get a little deeper into Luc, and it's not as amusing as this book usually is, but I hope we understand Luc a little more! As you can see, I'm secretly in love with Luc and I'm totally rooting for him all the way. But anyway, Audrey's going to feel the brunt force of junior coursework (sorry you don't get to enjoy your brief respite for much longer!) very soon. Comment below what you think!

Thank you for reading, as usual (my head is feeling loopy, ugh), and I love y'all!

Anne