Things continued to be bad the morning after we went bowling. In the morning I think her mom got mad at me, and I'm not sure why. I didn't like her morning classes. I didn't even really talk to Kat as we walked to school. I just didn't really feel like it, because I was kind of mad at her about Jaques. Really, how could she be so stupid? They can't even talk to each other. She doesn't even speak French. Did she really think anything could come of it? I was dreading what Maryvonne had called "sport." I hate gym. I figured I'd just end up standing around.
When we got into sport, the teacher immediately asked who I was, almost accusingly. Maryvonne explained. "Do you speak French?" she asked in French. "Yes." "Have you played badmitten before?" "Uh... Yes, but I'm not very good..." "You're with Camille, Jusine, Crystale and Maxime." Maryvonne looked as if she were about to speak up and say that I should be with her, but she decided against it. I looked around, and a girl waved at me from a group of four kids. I walked over to them. "I'm so sorry about our teacher," said a boy in the group, in English. "She is very stupid. I am Camille." He extended his hand, and I shook it. "I am delighted to meet you. I have wanted to talk to you very much, but I didn't get a chance to in our other classes." He spoke with an almost perfect Brittish accent. "I know it might be a bit boring for you, but I'd like to ask you some questions?" "Oh, sure," I said. It was good to hear well-spoken English, and to talk to someone genuinely interested in the whole cultural exchange thing. Camille asked me very intelligent questions, and we ended up talking about music and politics and all kinds of other things. Justine, Crystale and Maxime listened in, and once in a while Justine would jump in in French and say things like "Ooh! Ask her if there are a lot of hot football players there!" (I would respond to these questions to her in French.) This was all while we were supposed to be warming up. The others explained to me that as long as you keep some kind of motion going, she wouldn't yell at you.
The actual badmitten playing started out as being pretty disasterous. It turns out I don't know how to serve. At all. After the first few times I tried, Justine and I were both killing ourselves laughing, and she came over and tried to show me how to do it the right way. It worked a little, but I was still pretty bad at hitting the thing when it came to me. By the end of practice I had improved drastically but was still losing every game. I made jokes in French and Justine thought they were funny. And when I rotated out I talked to Camille more about politics. Eventually he said "Well, I have to go now. It was very nice meeting you," and kissed me on either cheek. This took me by surprise again, because before it had just been with girls. My immediate thought after he left was "Hm. I wonder: Is he gay, or just European?"
After we were finished, the gym teacher called me over and pointed at the sheet where we had written down our scores. She asked me whether I had noticed improvement, and seemed somewhat impressed. Then she asked me again whether I'd played before. When I said yes, she raised an eyebrow, but the kids I'd been talking to laughed and Justine said "Elle est musicienne. Elle ne fait pas de sport." "What do you play?" the teacher asked in French. "Flute and guitar." "Well then, go get your guitar and play something for us, don't waste your time trying to play badmitten." She was smiling, and I laughed along with the rest of the kids standing around me. Then she asked some questions about the trip and the other kids listened in. It was genuinely fun, and when I met back up with Maryvonne I felt better about her too - I felt like some of the tension had been relieved.
I even got a little more rational about Adam. I realized something else: Paris was so beautiful and so much fun. The whole time I was there, I had this strange, positive, flowing energy in me. I had this strong urge to show it to someone. Often, when I felt this way, I found myself thinking or even saying aloud "I wish Julian were here."
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