Chapter 24 #2
Her hair spilled across the pillow like silk ribbons. Celine took a strand and twirled it around her finger, considering this bit of information.
“Have you ever seen it?”
Ana?s clicked her tongue. No. “I begged him once. He wouldn’t even talk to me about it. Pépé has asked him to sell it numerous times, but he never considered it.”
“He wants to reopen it now,” Celine said. “I still cannot believe it. I don’t think he knows what it means to me.”
“You sound excited about it,” Ana?s pointed out. She hoisted herself on her elbows and hovered over Celine. “Drunk-excited.”
Celine stuck her tongue out at her, pushing her friend away.
“I can’t not be excited. I only ever entered Monsieur Baudelaire’s contest so that I could have my own fashion house.
I never thought I could achieve something like that by myself—socialites aren’t supposed to work.
And now Bastien is offering all of this… ”
Ana?s hummed. “It sounds like you are more excited about Bastien.”
In the semi-darkness of the room, Celine felt a sudden warmth creep up her cheeks. She wanted to hide her face in her pillow. But Ana?s had already seen it, because a teasing smile pulled at her lips.
“It’s not that,” Celine protested. “You know I have always wanted to be a fashion designer.”
”Yes, but now you want to be a fashion designer with Bastien.”
“You are such a menace.” Celine turned around. “I’m done telling you things. Bonne nuit.”
She heard Ana?s snicker behind her and turn off the lamp.
Even so, patterns continued to play across the ceiling.
Outside, the city was sleepless, with neon lights flashing far off in the distance and motorcars honking at each other.
One of them, she thought, was probably Bastien’s convertible, as he rushed off to the Ga?té to meet Elana.
Frustrated, Celine kicked off the covers.
Good for him that he could continue his fun all night long.
There was no reason for her to be bothered by that.
He was known for that sort of thing, wasn’t he?
All this time Celine had known and she hadn’t cared.
Why did she have to care now? He could do whatever he wanted, kiss whoever he wanted, sleep with whoever he wanted. It was none of her business.
She rolled onto her back, sighing.
He had kissed her too.
The fact made her heart race again. Quickly, Celine placed her palm over her chest, trying to contain the rattle it was causing within her ribcage. Shhhh, she wanted to chide. Couldn’t you have beaten like this for Jacques, you stupid thing?
Despite her attempts, the warm feeling only intensified, blossoming through her fingers against her will. She couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“Ana?s?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Mhm.”
When Celine glanced over, Ana?s’s eyes were closed. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, wondering briefly if it was a good idea to even think about what she was preparing to say, much less utter it aloud. Her heart threatened to explode if she didn’t speak.
“I think I'm in love with Bastien,” she announced without preamble.
Ana?s’s eyes snapped open—wide enough to unnerve Celine.
Silently, she slid the pillow from under her head and pressed it to her face, releasing the faintest scream she could muster.
Once she collected herself, she said, “How do you know?
Maybe it's all the excitement about the studio. Maybe you are just confused.”
“Maybe,” Celine replied vacantly. “But it wasn’t like this with Jacques. What if I really fell in love with Bastien and didn’t realise it?”
Ana?s was hesitating. “It can happen.”
“You think so?”
“Books say so. They even make enemies fall in love. I’m sure it is easier for friends.”
“But”—Celine pressed the heels of her palms so hard into her eyes that she started seeing stars—“it wasn’t supposed to happen with Bastien.”
“I told you, you can’t force it.” But Ana?s was still hesitating, puffing her cheeks and fidgeting with the frills on the pillowcase.
“I know that look,” Celine said. “Out with it.”
Ana?s lifted a pair of apologetic eyes to her.
“The things they say about Bas,” she whispered, barely audible, as if her words were being drawn out against her will.
And Celine knew that she had to prepare for great disappointment.
“It's all true, Cel. I know he's my brother, but I've seen most of the people he's been with. Women and men. Back when Bastien still lived at the mansion, they would stumbled out into the corridor all giddy and flushed. It didn’t take much to guess what they had been doing, but whenever I’d ask him, he could scarcely remember their names. He might be serious about the studio, but love is something Bastien knows nothing about.”
Celine thought of Elana again. She wasn’t sure if Bastien loved her or not. He certainly spent a lot of time with her, even though he had no qualms about flirting with Coco, or Jeanne, or whoever landed in his field of vision.
What’s one girl for another?
Celine fell back into the pillows with a groan. “This whole love thing sucks!”
Ana?s’s hand rustled over the sheets, searching for Celine’s. Once she found it, she linked their fingers together.
“If it makes you feel any better, my own romantic ventures have failed miserably, too.”
Celine reached over with her other hand and gave Ana?s’s forehead a little flick. “Of course it doesn’t make me feel better. I want you to be happy, not suffer for love.”
“I don’t think anyone in love has ever been happy. Love is pain and all those poets are liars,” Ana?s grumped.
“You are such a cynic.” But she gave her a little nudge to keep talking. “Tell me about your impasse. It might not be as bad as you think.”
“You forget that not every Ménard is a smooth-talker like Bastien.”
Celine clicked her tongue. “That’s all in your head. You’ve charmed men into oblivion before.”
“Yes, men,” Ana?s grumbled. “Juliana is not as easily manipulated by my little hair twirls.”
Celine had only heard about Juliana from Ana?s’s accounts, which had been few. “What happened?”
“I went to Le Rat Mort the other night, the club where she performs. She was up on the stage and she was so beautiful…and then I left. I even lost my headband when I was pushing through the crowd, hiding from her.”
“What?” Celine sat upright. “Why didn’t you talk to her?”
“Because,” Ana?s kicked at the covers, “I can’t.
Pépé would have a heart attack knowing I even went to that club.
Let alone that I went there for a girl.” Tossing her head against the pillow, she sniffled.
“Bastien has told me Juliana has an infamous reputation for liking girls but—I can’t let anyone find out about me.
It’s best that I didn’t meet her. All those tedious promenades and dates with men would have been for nothing if another rumour caught on. ”
Celine’s heart tightened at that look of complete heartache on Ana?s’s face. There were plenty of cafés in Pigalle where she would be in the right company, but not without the rumours that would follow her like a shadow. Paris might seem lenient, but their social circle was not.
Suddenly, Ana?s let out a bitter laugh. “My God, we are pathetic. One is in love with a philanderer, the other with a woman.”
A light passed through the window, reflecting across her eyes. For a brief second, pure sadness flood Ana?s’s hazel irises. Then the light was gone, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.
“What will you do about Juliana?” Celine asked, even though she knew the answer.
“I haven’t a clue,” Ana?s replied drowsily. “What will you do about Jacques?”
Celine sighed. “Let’s just run away together. You are a Ménard—my parents seem dead set on that. And I’m a woman—you are dead set on that. We can live in a house of chocolate.”
“Sure, except there’s only one issue,” Ana?s yawned. She shifted closer, leaning her head on Celine’s shoulder. “I want to live in a house of cookies.”
“That’s fine too,” Celine mumbled sleepily and stared at the city lights playing on ceiling. Neither of them said another word, and for a while there was only the rustle of curtains and Ana?s’s steady breathing. Celine finally closed her eyes, allowing herself to be reeled off to another place.
· · ·
On the left bank of the Seine, Bastien Ménard was driving off into the night, his mind reeling on the same thought over and over again.
Celine.