Fragment #17 - Cinderella

The party’s rolling. For a few hours the flat turned itself into a nightclub. I warned the neighbours by slipping a note under their door and I hope they won’t cause any problem. I would not like to have to answer the cops at three o’clock in the morning.
I didn’t think so many people would fit so easily in the kitchen and the living room. They are at least twenty, maybe more. It seems to me I’m catching a new face every minute. Indeed I may solely have a hard time remembering features. I’ve ran across Catherine a few times. She’s like a hurricane, serving and chatting with every guest or so it seems.
The bell’s ringing. God, I wish it isn’t the police for real. I must have brought them here while thinking of it. I cast a quick sign at the party queen, letting her know that I’m taking care of it.
I open the door with caution and just have time to dodge the item thrown at me. Teargas? Um. No. Unless they fasten streamers to the grenades.
“Ooooh! Nice duck Ethan buddy! No wonder you’re such a pitiful defender.”
“Stephane, you managed to come. I’m glad to see you, I’m kinda lost in here.”
The point is, I don’t know anybody apart from Catherine, and she is a little busy. She told me I could invite someone, so I thought of Stephane, but he wasn’t sure he could stop by. I’m glad he did.
“You said Melaine couldn’t come. Why are you complaining? You must be surrounded by hot students!”
“Not really. Plus, they’re not exactly here for me.”
I lead him to the kitchen and have him a beer and a slice of quiche.
“You must be kidding. Let me take a look. I can’t stay long anyway. So let’s go down to business.”
That’s it, business. When boys gather they have to talk about girls.
“What about that one, sitting on the sofa?”
He’s right, she’s pretty. Her clothes suit her well. A black jersey underlines the purity of her figure and the dimness of her skin. She put her hair up, brightening a face she coloured lightly with pearly make-up. Damn, I recognize her now, she’s the girl who helped Catherine yesterday!
“You wouldn’t stand a chance.” I tell him. “She supports Poitiers.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I swear I’m not. She was here yesterday with a t-shirt. You know, the one with that dumb dragon making a bump.”
“The Grand’Goule? Erf… What about the black one over there, then?”
We hand out grades like college students until he leaves, an hour later. I take him back to the door and then head back to the living room. The girl is still sitting in the sofa. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t left it during the whole party. She must be bored to death. Maybe I could talk to her.
I make my way through the swarm and sit by her side.
“So, you’ve changed yourself, right? The dress suits you better than the flour by the way.”
“What?”
She does not seem to have taken my joke very well. I apologise quickly.
“Um… Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude. You’re the girl I ran into yesterday, aren’t you?”
“Yes I am.”
She doesn’t look too pleased to chat with me either.
“The name’s Ethan. I am Catherine’s coloc”.
“Yeah, I know, she mentioned it yesterday. Her last flat wasn’t that good. This one is quite friendly.”
“She’s a nice girl. I’m glad she answered my advertisement. She didn’t feel very good these days. I hope the party cheered her up.”
“Well, it’s been a long time since I saw her. I didn’t know she felt bad. What happened?”
“I don’t know exactly. I believe it had something to do with her boyfriend. He has been here all day. They were cloistered in her room when I got back, and I didn’t have a chance to see him. Is it this weird guy over there?”
I’ve noticed a tall guy, a little clumsy, who sort of followed her all night long. I guess it was him.
“It seems to be.”
“Yeah I believe the fact he is kissing her was an obvious enough hint.”
“Bien observé Sherlock!”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.”
She looked bored when I sat by. Now she looks desperate. A few moments of an awkward silence later, I go on. She’s barely paying attention to me.
“So you’re… um… supporting the Stade Poitevin? I kinda saw your t-shirt yesterday. Catherine may have told you, I am a volleyball player, here in Angoulême.”
“Well, I just played ten years in this club.”
“Ten? Fair enough. I’m running my sixteenth one.”
“What’s your position?”
“I’m a middle hitter, what else?”
“Dunno.”
Ok. I think my career as a clown is at an end now. She doesn’t seem eager to resume the conversation.
“You… You don’t seem to be very excited by the party.”
“I’m just tired. I’d better go.”
Well Cinderella, I hope you don’t forget your slipper, because I’m running out of topics here. I wish her good night and I fall back into my bedroom. I’m tired too actually.