The mall. Why the hell did I pick the mall?

Honestly, at this point, I had no idea since I was still very tired from my drinking bout a couple nights ago (although I really shouldn't have been—after all, I did have lots of literary shit to go through on that weekend). I let out a long breath.

Luckily for me, Lila would probably waste more time on my behalf at the ice cream counter with her brother although she had no idea what was going on. She really didn't need to know. I mean, I still had no idea what was going on inside my own head, let alone hers or her brother's. As soon as he popped up in my head, I automatically looked up at the ice cream shop again. Yeah, it was a really good thing that he was going with his sister.

I fiddled with the book (with the very ugly Madame Bovary who seemed to sympathize with me with those nasty cockroach-brown eyes), biting down on my tongue. Why, Audrey? I wondered. Why in the world did I agree to drink with Lila Mercier?

I really didn't remember clearly Saturday night (or Sunday morning, as Luc would remind me if he was here). In a way, that was a good thing because I wouldn't have to think about all the idiotic things that I'd surely done (but again, L and O did some things that could be classified in a whole different category of stupid—the extreme kind). But then, I didn't really remember how I'd messed up.

Yeah, I'd gotten a little buzzed (the stage when I thought everything was tinted yellow and warm and nice-feeling), but I definitely didn't get drunk. From that night, I vaguely remembered watching a very confusing film (Dead Poets' Society, perhaps?). And then I'd stumbled upstairs at some point for whatever stupid reason. And Luc was there. And he was close to me at some point. And after that, I was back in the darkness of Lila's basement.

Maybe I'd missed out on some things. How would I regain those memories?

Unfortunately for me, I was unable to continue my thoughts, because Lila plopped herself down in the seat next to mine with a tiny container of ice cream (that probably cost about seven dollars) in her hand. "You bored?"

I straightened up immediately. "Um, not really. I was, uh, doing some deep contemplation about my current situation in life."

"I hope it wasn't about your athletic deficits," Lila responded, her face as serious as it was when she was meeting college reps. Actually, it looked like she was having a facial spasm since she couldn't decide whether she wanted to smile or not.

I rolled my eyes at her even though I felt my body flush a little (what in the world was I thinking that day?). "That was, uh, a short lapse in my judgment."

Out of nowhere, Luc seated himself across from me, raising an eyebrow. "A temporary one?"

See, that was the thing. Luc was a little too...casual about everything. Was it even conceivable that he could look at me without having those (what was I supposed to call them?) moments that we seemed to be having so often these days? He'd even offered to carry my backpack for me today like a proper gentleman (that he wasn't)! And I didn't even bring my backpack to the mall.

My left eye twitched. It tended to do that a lot these days (to be more specific, it started doing that after I got my contacts, but I liked to think that it was a very prophetic sort of twitch), especially when I sensed something was up.

I definitely did something stupid on Saturday. Or early Sunday morning.

In response to Luc, I could only dissolve into a coughing fit. Smooth, Audrey. Smooth. I let out a final huge cough, hoping that my spit wasn't flying everywhere, and swallowed. "It's very temporary, Lucien. I'm quite capable of making decisions."

He avoided my eyes and picked up his ice cream container. Damn, he didn't even comment about my usage of his full name. My right eye twitched (I actually wasn't sure what that meant quite yet, but I was sure I would find out soon—in chem class, Bredbenner tended to bring the best out of me when it came to prophecy regarding the homework load).

Lila looked between the two of us, wiggling her eyebrows (like some sort of pervert), but thankfully, she didn't comment. She was getting better at reading into situations. That was very commendable on her part. There was a pause in the conversation.

"So," she said loudly, as if the mall wasn't tumultuous enough, "what's everyone doing today?"

Luc and I both looked at her at the same time like she was asking a question that was so utterly stupid that it didn't even merit a spoken response (her question, indeed, did not merit my response, at least). Ooh, one act of unity between us. That was something I didn't see at all today and Monday and Sunday morning (granted, late morning).

Lila sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes and tossing her head. "Fine, that was stupid," she huffed. "Like, how are you guys gonna hear each other through this"—she gestured wildly at nothing in particular, but everything around us (the kids spilling their food all over the place, a couple sophomores from our school who were to be ignored at all costs, the stay-at-home moms who had way too much time on their hands...the list went on)—"din?"

Luc shrugged, eyes still focused on his ice cream. "Audrey's idea."

No use of my nickname (which wasn't much of a nickname at all, but that didn't really matter) at all? That was harsh.

Lila shrugged. "Well, if you two are gonna get to work, I guess I'll go pick up a couple of necessities." Those necessities probably included a beanie or two, a Starbucks drink, some Victoria's Secret undergarments, and anything expensive for no particular reason, to top everything off.

She stood up, waving dramatically (I looked away and pretended to be one of the onlookers in the situation—completely baffled yet amused at the same time). "I'll see you, then." She sent me a serious look first, though, and then she walked off.

Lila made quite a figure as she strutted off in her school skirt (hitched up a little higher than it would usually be), blouse (untucked), loose tie, and gleaming black flats (which technically weren't allowed according to the uniform code, for some reason, but no one bothered to correct her). I had to admit that, at least, to waste some time before turning back to her twin.

He was something himself. Luc had gotten rid of his blazer at some point in time, and now, he sat, not quite slouching but not quite erect in his chair, with his extremely loosened tie and rolled up shirt sleeves. He hadn't had gym today, so his dark hair was dry and ruffled (he'd gotten a haircut about a week ago—thank goodness). And then, those eyes.

"So," I said slowly, feeling a little stupid for repeating what his sister had just said, "what are we gonna do?"

He nodded his head slowly, vaguely. He wasn't even listening to me, was he? Idiot. I picked up my book and gave him mighty whack on the head with it (I'd been waiting to do that for so long). "Listen to me, jerk."

Luc looked up, his dimples appearing then. No eye contact, though. "You don't have to be rude about it though, A."

That was a whole lot better. I narrowed my eyes at him and stood up, gathering my folder and various other actual necessities (Madame Bovary, my pencil case and my phone, which felt a little clunky—very annoying). "You weren't listening to, like, anything. We gotta get moving."

He didn't question me (I wasn't sure if I was glad or worried about that) and followed me as I headed toward the comfy seats next to the fountain in the western nook of the mall. Hopefully, there wouldn't be too many people there. We walked past the people actually going into the stores in relative silence (if the sound of humanity in a mall in general counted, I supposed).

Somehow, the silence that I thought existed had faded away sometime when I wasn't aware. I glanced up sideways at Luc every once in a while. His expression was straight. Ugh, he needed to give me more cues. Otherwise, this would turn awkward. Again. Like the car ride here.

We finally got to the seats. The area was empty. Literally. That was rare. Although there were stores that were operating, they didn't seem to be in high demand. So I claimed the couch that looked the closest to a loveseat and dropped my book and folder on the ground next to me.

Luc still hesitated, his hands behind his back. I raised my eyebrows at him. "What?"

He took a step toward me. And then he decided to sit down. He did so cautiously, keeping a respectable distance between us so that if we put our arms down, they'd barely touch. I didn't blame him. But honestly, that didn't help my feelings, because I still felt him in all of his warmth and clean cotton smell and...

That sounded like something very familiar from Saturday.

Or Sunday.

"Don't you want your book?" Luc's voice, although faint, still had a touch of amusement to it. There he was. I felt like I wanted to pat his head, but that would ruin his hair. That'd never work.

"Oh yeah." My arm felt jittery and hot as I bent down to pick up the book. When I turned back to face him, I met his eyes squarely for the first time in about five days. And it felt good to be back in those swirly amber eyes. It was getting hotter. Maybe it was because we were getting closer. And my eyes kept flickering down—to his lips.

Why...?

He scooted away from me hastily and took my book from me. "Audrey, I don't think you remember."

Yeah, he was right about that. I blinked at him innocently. "Remember what?"

His face was slowly turning a bright shade of red as he scratched the back of his neck, staring steadfastly at the ground. "We, uh, had an incident."

Hm, that shade of red. It was very interesting, because it definitely brought up the déjà vu. Blinding lights, a very nice kitchen—oh my God. That was it. That was why. I felt the heat swell up in my abdomen as well, and I tried my best not to flush the way he was now. By the feeling of everything, I wasn't very successful.

I looked at his face. He was biting his lip. Oh, goodness. His hands were actually twitching as he played with his dress slacks—like he was nervous. That almost never happened. I would enjoy this, but I myself was feeling too messed up inside to try to remember.

For some reason, I scooted a little closer to him so that my bare knees were touching his legs. A little slowly, I reached out for his shoulder. He turned to me in the slightest degree. And that was enough confirmation for me.

Our lips touched. It was a bare little brush at first—so he could reject me if he wanted to (and condemn me to perpetual humiliation for the rest of the times I'd have to see his face). But then, he touched my chin slightly, the way we first touched, and I leaned into it. Luc closed his eyes after a little second. I followed suit. And then, after that, we just felt (also because things in life like this shouldn't have required things like words to describe them—they should be remembered and shown and just received).

When we pulled away from each other, a little breathless (I imagined myself in some sort of cheesy film, but that only made me feel worse about myself because I was very sure that my hair was just a hot mess), I bit my lip. His eyes vaguely flickered back down to my lips.

"Stop it, Luc," I said, even though I wouldn't have said no if he offered again. I swatted his arm playfully.

He caught my wrist (even more déjà vu), and his eyes danced as he looked at me. "You initiated it," he responded, smirking.

I wanted to elbow him, but my arm closest to him was already taken, and there was no possible way I was doing a weird body twist to use my other arm. So a shoulder hump would have to suffice. "You're mean."

Quietly, he retorted with a little charming twist of his lips, "But you chose me."

I laughed out loud. That presumptuous asshole.

"You're not that special." As in he wasn't my first kiss, if that was what he was insinuating, but he was Luc. And that was something in itself.

Luc shrugged, giving me that signature Mercier wink (Lila overused it, but on him, it was extremely cute). He leaned in closer until I could feel his cool, vanilla ice cream breath on my lips. "Tell me why."

That conversation was not for right now. Especially after our...episode. I bit my lip again teasingly, this time, at him. "I won't." I pushed him away with my shoulder, smirking.

Luc rolled his eyes at me. "Well," he said, letting go of my wrist and stretching his arms above his head (the most undignified position I'd seen him in), "we'll see where this thing goes now."

And he reached across me as casually as could be, picking up the ugly Bovary book. I groaned. But he had a point. I did sign up for this. And I'd tolerate (I'd never really tell him that I enjoyed spending time with him, though) it.

Gladly.

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Hey guys!

I'm aware that this is, like, a super late update, but play practice and life. And class registration. I think that should explain it all.

Anyway, LUC AND AUDREY OMG. So, I have no text analysis questions for y'all (because unfortunately, this isn't a modern classic).

Thank you for everything, and see you tomorrow!

Yours truly (who is currently torn in half by her love for Luc Mercier and Sean O'Pry),

Anne