Chapter 7 - Dames de L'eau

Over the weekend, Dove wouldn't stop referencing Paris. She only spoke with me in French through the entire run of our equestrian training. She even brought quiche and Crémant for our "goûter". She laid out museums and boutiques she plans to visit and has already pre-picked her wardrobe. She was urging me to match some of hers, "It'll look good on photos" she said.

"Are you already assuming I'm going to lose the bet?" I sipped the sparkling wine she bought. It was too sweet for my liking.

Her lips curved into a charming smirk, "Mon beau, tu as déjà perdu. Just accept the fact that there are girls, however rare, who are immune to your charms. Jeter l'éponge."

In any other circumstance, I'd agree with Dove. I might have already raised a white flag a few weeks back if it weren't for this scheme I had with August. Is it a loss if I rigged our bet to change court and ally with the enemy? Maybe. But that's something they never have to know. I should feel guilty lying to my friends, but it's exhilarating having August on my team.

Always called a stuck-up, August is closer to the professors than her peers. Apart from Gwen and occasionally Royce, she never really interacts with anyone else on a personal level, adding to her mystery that fuels my curiosity. It's always been there. That curiosity. Ever since I first saw her in our Freshman Year. The girl who beat Dove out of the top spot and became the Class Representative. I just didn't act on it. Maybe even then, August already intimidated me more than I cared to admit.

If I'm being honest, I would've wanted to actually be able to woo August on my own. I've never not gotten a girl I pursued before, until her. But I know when to admit defeat when I'm faced with one. August is too stubborn. Even if, let's say, I was actually able to make her like– nay, love me, I don't think she'll admit it. Not even to herself.

"Let's see about that. I haven't given up."

"Why do you try so hard? She's not much of a sight. Even for sore eyes. Or is Paris with me such a terrible thought?"

I've known Dove for so long that I know her change of mood by her tone. She thinks she can hide it with witty remarks and harsh rebuttals. But I can see her heart on her sleeves.

"We've talked about this golub– Dove. I just don't want to set us up in another misunderstanding."

"I won't fall in love with you if that's what you're worried about. I'm over that."

I inch my face closer to hers, slowly. Until the tip of our noses are almost touching but not quite. I could smell her, a mixture of dew and grass and my favorite perfume of hers– was it Chanel or Hermes– honeyed orange blossom. Her breath quickens, I moved closer to her lips. My eyes are still on her and I see hers darkening, I feel the heat rising from her skin. I lingered for a few more seconds before pulling back.

Her face flushed scarlet. In embarrassment or disappointment or rage. Maybe even all three.

"Yeah," I started, "I'm not quite sure about that."

"Fine." Dove recovers quickly and raises her glass motioning

for a toast, "Ne jetez pas l'éponge alors. Devenir fou."

I clinked my glass with hers, "À la folie."

It was my idea to have August finally saying 'yes' on a date with me in front of the Dames de L'eau, the water fountain that centers the Academy ground. It's a sculpture of these three ladies bathing in what appears to be a lake– Nimue, Viviane and Niviène, each representing wisdom, intuition and power. It was a gift by the sculptor Blanche de Saint Adelaide, an alumni and one of the first female students of the academy who became a well-known sculptor afterwards. It was sent from France and it's one of her final pieces before she passed.

She gifted the academy the Dames de L'eaus as a reminder that women will always belong here. During Blanche's time there was a lot of protest about women being admitted to the academy. She was oppressed and intimidated but she didn't falter. And soon, she won the respect of her peers because she was not only wise but also cunning. Blanche said, "Si perfide que soit la mer, les femmes le sont encore plus" which basically means 'However treacherous the sea may be, women are still more so.' When she was asked if that meant she didn't always play fair, she laughed and said, "Playing fair is a man's job, playing smart is a woman's."

And wouldn't that be so poetic for what August has planned?

But of course, August wouldn't be August without resistance. She wanted our play to be acted out in the cafeteria instead. It was much less of a hassle, she said. I can just go to her table and ask her out and she'll say 'yes' to get it over with because she really just wants to get it over with.

It was only when I explained to her how amazing it'll be to have it in front of the fountain did she stop and re-think. And plus having it in a cafeteria is just so out of character for me. It could raise suspicions from my friends. I'm prone to doing grand gestures even if I barely like the girl. One time I flew one to Berlin and back just so she can buy this really weird looking concrete jewelry she forgot to purchase when she was there. We dated for about two weeks before it fizzled out. Well, it fizzled out for me. But August hates everything grand and was really firm with her despise with embarrassing displays of affections. So having it by the fountain is the closest to us meeting half-way.

"You really thought about this Hughes."

We are back at the library where I am again pushing the trolly filled with books and following her around as she stacks them.

"You're really into this. Here I am just thinking about the quickest way we can both get what we want and you're there creating the grand scheme of things. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

"I did a lot of planning before but none like this. Usually, I'm sure the girl would end up liking me in the end if they don't already."

She rolled her eyes, "Let me guess, I'm not like them?"

"Well you aren't."

This seemed to displease her.

"It's a social construct created by misogynists to make women believe they should separate themselves from feminine stereotypes because this 'other' breed is seen as shallow with no other interest aside from beauty. As if that's something to be ashamed of.

You men created this fantasy of a 'cool-girl', the fun-loving, beer-drinking, effortlessly gorgeous female to fulfill your idea of a perfect woman. But she isn't real and yet, we still try to change parts or even our entire personalities to fit your narrative."

I seriously didn't have anything to say to rebut. Apart from it being true, I didn't really expect our conversion to suddenly dive into that.

August grunted and took a deep breath. She shakes her head and turns back to me. She was visibly calmer. "Sorry. I'm still quite pissed from my last class. Mikhail kept arguing that if women would just stick to the roles assigned to them, then divorce shouldn't even happen."

"How did you get into that conversation anyway?" I asked.

"It was a mock trial Sir Ricci asked us to do. We were supposed to be divorce lawyers representing Heathcliff and Isabella Linton."

"I'm guessing you were representing Isabella?"

She nodded and explained that while Mikhail raises points in saying that marriage is a sacred constitution that shouldn't be broken because of one bad day, she argued that one bad day will become a bad week then a bad month and soon, just the worst years of a victim's life. And that one bad day is enough to have it deemed as domestic violence.

And I watched her and all the animations on her face. How she changes her voice to portray Mikhail. The very real fury she felt over a very fake case because she cannot phantom anyone defending someone as appalling as Heathcliff and look proud doing it. I wondered if this is how she also talks with Gwen. So eager. So vibrant.

"Well, everybody knows Mikhail's an idiot. Did you win though?"

"Of course I did." She finally lets out a laugh. "To be clear, I'm apologizing for my sudden outburst. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Not with what I said. I'm still right."

I smiled, "On behalf of the male population, we concede and beg your forgiveness." I bowed down theatrically, and took her hand for a kiss. I was actually surprised that she let me.

As I stood, our eyes met as if for the first time. Her hand was soft and smelled of vanilla and old books. And I've only noticed now the dimple on her chin and the little mole just below her right eye. She looks compelling in the golden light of the setting sun with her hair being gently blown by the cool wind of the central air. Dove was wrong. August is nothing but beautiful.

But before the moment could build into something more, she pulled her hand back and cleared her throat returning me to reality.

"Anyway, your idea with the Dames, I'm okay with it."

"Ah, yes. Great."

We stood there for a few more minutes. Awkwardly I dare say. She with her books and I, well I didn't know what to do with my hands. So I crossed them and uncrossed them before finally putting them in my pockets.

"So, I guess I'll meet you there tomorrow at lunch?"

"Ah, yes. Great."

Silence. I didn't know how long it took me before I said that I should get going. As I was leaving, she called back, "No flowers or chocolates or whatever else, okay?"

"Fine, fine. I'll call the flower shop to cancel the path of flowers I asked them to scatter around the fountain."

"You did not!" Her voice was restrained but a few more vibrato closer to a shrill.

I laughed. I couldn't help thinking how it'll be nice to actually be friends with August just so I can tease her all the time.

"I'm kidding!" I said, waving as I walked away.

On a Wednesday at lunch break, the students of the Academy of Chevaliers de la Roine witnessed August Keller, the smartest, fiercest, un-tauntable Ice Bitch finally say yes to a date with the notable Casanova and heart-breaker– me, Henry Hughes. An unlikely match, met with the scowling face of Gwen, the death glare of Dove and the conspicuous staring of the rest who are wondering, how long this one will last.

Back then, just like everyone, I didn't know that even ice can burn. And burn me, it did.