Fragment #12 - Something wicked

The curtains open wide. My eyes have difficulty to catch up with the light spreading in the room. I close my eyelids, and open them again. Granny is in the room, facing me.
I thought this day would be just fine; a day in bed, thinking about nothing; the sheets caressing my smooth skin. But they had thought about it. Granny is smiling at me.
“What’s happening?”
“It’s your birthday, silly.”
I hope she hadn’t said that. I feel so bad; I was just hoping she had forgotten. I didn’t want this year to have past so fast. And so many things had happened, though. Jon, all I told father, and mummy. Ariane and her boyfriend, Martin, who haven’t called me since I’m here in London. I just feel so lonely here; it is what I wanted. But I just don’t want to hear about the time passing by. I don’t want to know I’m nineteen today!
“Your grandpa wanted to wish it to you too, but he’s working at the restaurant in central London.”
“Anyway. I’m visiting a friend today. I had forgotten.”
“Who?”
“Some friend from France. He left me an email. I just wanna see him today. He’s the one I want to see on my birthday.”
“Well, I had prepared something for you.”
I smile at Granny; she had always been so kind to me.
“I’ll be here for dinner. For the moment I’m late! He’ll be waiting for me on Leicester square in half an hour!”
“Happy birthday anyway!”
I’m already off, jumping in my pants, without even caring about my grandmother staring at me. She doesn’t understand why I’m so stressed now. Well, some man of my life will be waiting for me. I remember receiving his email, my heart beating, my pulse drumming through my veins. So much, I didn’t know what to do, and it took me five days to answer him. I wanted this email to be perfect. It was simple, and four lines long:
Salut Julian,
Bien sûr que je veux te revoir. Je te propose Dimanche 25, Leicester square, devant le grand Odeon, à 2pm. On ira boire un coup, repenser au passé.
Je t’embrasse.
I was just hoping he would remember how important this date would be to me. A year older, a year wiser. I’m already running down the stairs, banging the door.
Granny is still in my room, staring at that former me.

I’m in front of the Odeon now. Thousands of people are around me. From all other the world. Languages mix in my ears, from English to Portuguese to Russian. Julian wouldn’t come round. Where is he? As I was 10 minutes late, I start thinking that he went back to his hotel. Geeze! Hopefully he had given me the adress in his mail. I take the tube back to Russel square.
The hotel is all black and modern, huge windows, giving my image back. How can he stay somewhere like that? A room here would cost thousands of pounds.
I prefer not to think about it, and sit on the frozen stone steps. I start staring at the people in the park. Some tourists from the nearest hostel are eating their sandwiches, sat on the scarce grass. A brunette is laughing her throat out at a blond guy’s jokes. I start staring at him more, thinking he looks like Jon, when…
“Hey Jed!”
I know this voice. Is that you, Julian?! When I turn round, I see a Julian I don’t know, a cigarette in his hands. Since when do you smoke, angel? He comes next to me, and seats. I kiss him on the cheeks, as any Frenchie does. Julian looks strange. What should I have done then, like kiss you on the mouth. I do still love you. But what about you? The he puts his palm on my knee. Do you still love me? I can’t believe… I don’t know what to do, this silence is so heavy.
You just ask me this question:
"Qu’est ce que tu fais là?"
"Je voulais te revoir. Just see you again. I missed you. Tu me manquais."
Your figure makes me think about someone I really loved for a moment, and I ask the question:
“Comment vas Lilian?”
You seem annoyed by the question, and I understand why. You just answer:
“Lilian va bien. Il bosse beaucoup pour la fac de médecine. On est obligé de parler de Lilian ?”
“Euh . Non. What shall we speak about then?”
I don’t really know what language to use. It seems to be the same for Julian.
“Ca me fait bizarre quand tu me parles en anglais. ”
“Pardon. Ca fait partie de moi. Et puis ca fait six mois que je parle anglais.”
“No problem, don't worry. I can perfectly understand that.”
“You see. Tu parles anglais aussi! ”
“Quelques souvenirs du Lycée, ouais.”
I feel a sudden burst in me. I just want his body against mine, his tongue in my mouth, his thoughts running through mine. And a mad idea comes through my mind.
Let’s bring him at my grandparents’!
”On bouge? ”
“Pour aller où ? ”
“Do you have an Oyster?”
“A what? Pardon? ”
“An oyster card. Pour le tube – le metro.”
“Heu non, je sors pas beaucoup de l'hôtel... ”
“Allez! Come on! On va t'acheter un ticket de metro! ”
I take his hand in mine; we cross the street. Up in the sky, the moon is round and stares at us. I smile. What a birthday present! Julian stuck in my hand, and this full moon, stuck up in the darkening sky! We run past the fruit and newspapers sellers, turn right in Russel Square station. We buy a £3 ticket, and rush in the elevator which will bring us underground.