(pov hérèse )
The house was plunged into silence.
I pushed open the front door with infinite care and slipped inside.
One centimeter.
Then two.
Not a creak.
Perfect.
He even held my breath as he closed the door behind him.
I bent down slightly and took off my shoes.
The curfew had been over for more than an hour.
But if no one had noticed, then everything was fine.
At least, that's what I hoped.
I gripped my shoes tightly, holding them in one hand, then began to tiptoe towards the stairs.
A walk.
Two steps.
Three.
I managed to get up all the steps to my terrace before looking up and freezing in surprise.
Someone was sitting outside my bedroom door.
In the darkness.
François.
His gaze was fixed directly on me.
As if he had been waiting for me from the beginning.
I felt his stomach clench.
– …
– …
A heavy silence settled in.
François was sitting in his armchair, a closed book on his lap.
Calm.
Terribly calm.
– Where are you from?
The question simply arose.
Without anger.
Without raising his voice.
What differentiates it from "mother".
I looked away for a moment.
– I followed some friends… Just like that… For no reason
But François continued to look at me.
A long time.
A very long time.
Enough for me to start regretting my vague answer.
– "Friends".
- Yes.
More silence.
Then, unexpectedly, François stood up.
I blinked, a little surprised.
Was that all?
No sermon?
No interrogation?
No threat?
I suppressed my urge to smile and lowered my head slightly as if I were saddened by my action.
François walked past me and patted me on the shoulder.
– Do a hundred push-ups before coming to dinner.
He remains still.
– ... Pardon ?
– hundred .
he said again
– hundred ?
- Yes.
He confirmed this seriously.
And his neutral face
- Serious ?
But François continued on his way without even looking back.
– The more you argue, the less pleasant they will be.
– you could have already done 10
I clenched my fist in disgust
– François… Please…
– 50 is good too… right?
– One hundred and ten.
he added
I covered my mouth, closing it immediately.
François disappeared down the corridor.
Silence returned.
I remained alone in the middle of the terrace.
Stunned.
- Seriously…
I should have gone to the other side
I looked at my arms.
Then the stairs, already feeling the pain of the session in my muscles.
But a sweet smell of food was already wafting from the kitchen, for once I really wanted to eat at home, ha~ everything is ruined.
My stomach is already protesting.
– I hate this house.
No response.
Obviously.
With a deep sigh of resignation, I "placed" not to say threw my shoes on the ground.
Then he laid me down on the rug.
- one…
My poor arms were already trembling.
- Two…
And deep down, I knew perfectly well that François was probably counting the push-ups from somewhere in the house and that I couldn't cheat.
The next morning.
I deeply regretted each of the hundred push-ups I had been forced to do the day before.
My arms were still aching when I pushed open the school gate; I couldn't even lift it…
The corridors were already full of students when I arrived in front of the classroom.
I pushed open the door.
And just then someone violently bumped into my shoulder.
– Watch where you're walking.
Launched the idiot who aggravated my pump pains.
I looked up at him.
Alex .
Obviously.
– You're the one who's blind here, keep your eyes peeled when you walk.
I told him calmly.
– So what?
He spat arrogantly
He puffed out his chest and didn't move an inch.
The other students were already starting to look in our direction.
I moved aside, but he followed me, cutting me off again. I swerved again, restraining myself from breaking his other eye.
– Do you have a problem?
- Maybe.
Throw me if you're weak
I felt my jaw tighten.
The day had barely begun and it was already boring.
- Cleared.
– Otherwise what?
Damn.
This time, several students stopped talking altogether.
The atmosphere became heavy.
Very heavy.
It was as if everyone was waiting for something to explode.
Then I pushed him with my shoulder.
Not good.
Just enough to make him understand his bad idea.
But this Alex immediately grabs me by the collar.
The nearest chair falls with a metallic crash.
I'll throw that idiot over my shoulder and throw him back at the not-so-bright chair that sent him.
– You're pissing me off
- Let go of me.
– Force me to do it.
And at that precise moment, the door opened.
The professor entered.
A sudden silence fell over the room.
But no one broke their gaze.
Because everyone knew one thing:
It wasn't over.
No way.