Merci Beaucoup, Cookie Monster
I waited until the end of class to approach Dr. Clément, after all the other students had left. Not only did I want Clément’s undivided attention, I also wanted to maintain anonymity as much as I could.
Hudson was still there, though. He’d looked at me a hundred times throughout Dr. Clément’s lecture, and now I was the one feeling like I had something on my face. Was he staring because of our awkward encounter at the tutoring center? Or was he looking to see if I understood what Dr. Clément was saying? Because if it was the latter, then he knew I was still as lost as ever. I started to pick up words here and there, vocab that I’d been studying every night, but it still wasn’t enough.
“You want me to wear that thing during my lecture?” Clément asked, pointing at the transmitter after I’d explained what it was and how it worked.
I resisted looking at Hudson even though I could feel his eyes on me. I let out a deep breath as I smoothed my skirt. I was keenly aware of everything I wasn’t in that moment, but I needed to keep the conversation going. I needed to get my whole speech out before I lost the courage. I needed to remind myself of who I was. A force to be reckoned with.
“Yes, please,” I said, trying not to beg.
“No, I will not.”
“What? Why?” I pleaded. Hudson’s chair scraped against the floor as he pushed away from the table, momentarily stealing my attention. “You said to come back with another idea. This is another idea.”
“Thomas, come on. Give it a try,” Hudson said as he stepped beside me. “Here, let me see it.” He held his hand out to me.
I looked at Dr. Clément before pulling the transmitter over my head and placing it into Hudson’s outstretched hand. He had that maroon beanie on again, a small tuft of his brown hair escaping at his forehead.
“I put it on like this?” Hudson slipped the lanyard over his head.
I watched him for a half second as his words settled into my brain. “Yeah.” I tried to focus on Dr. Clément’s reaction, or lack thereof. I wanted to watch Hudson—he looked great in that sage-colored sweater. And those jeans. And his sneakers weren’t the dirty white ones from the other day.
Stop it, Edie. Pay attention.
“And send you to lasagna?” Hudson held up the device.
Send you to lasagna. What? See, this was what happened when I wasn’t paying attention. Screw it, just ask; there’s no way I’m getting around that weird one.
“What?”
“I asked how to turn it on,” he said, his eyes lighting up.
“You just press it here.” My cheeks were getting hotter by the second. I pressed the on button, my hand skimming against his. Focus. Paris. Paris. Paris. “But I can give it to you turned on—that isn’t a problem,” I added quickly. The less Dr. Clément had to do the better.
“And then I just talk into it?” Hudson brought the device up to his lips like a microphone.
Luckily, my earpiece wasn’t turned on or else I might have lost an eardrum, but that didn’t stop me from ripping it from my ear out of instinct.
“No.” A nervous laugh escaped me as I reached forward to push the device away from his mouth, stopping just shy of touching him. “Just, um, let it hang—”
He let go of the device, and it bounced against his chest once before settling.
“Yeah, like that,” I said, prying my eyes off him.
“And I just talk normally?”
“Uh-huh,” I answered, though I was looking at Dr. Clément. I turned the earpiece over in my hands as I waited for a response.
There was a moment of complete silence, relatively speaking. A moment where I looked at Dr. Clément, he looked at the transmitter, and Hudson looked at me. Which I could feel burning a hole into my face and stomach.
“If you bring that to me turned on at least ten minutes before class, I will wear it,” Dr. Clément said, breaking the silence.
“You will?” I smiled, pressing my fingers to my mouth. “Thank you so much.” I resisted the urge to jump up and down.
“I like you, Edie Kits. Vous ne manquez pas de culot, mademoiselle!”
I had no clue what he was saying, but if he liked me, then it didn’t matter.
“Wesley will have to use it on days I do not teach, d’accord?”
“Oui, ça va,” I responded, though I wasn’t 100 percent sure I was okay with Hudson using the transmitter. I glanced his way, and his eyes were on me.
“You sure?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“It doesn’t record?” Clément asked, interrupting what felt like more than a quick exchange between me and Hudson.
“Nope,” I said, exaggerating a head shake.
“And no one else can pick up the waves?”
Huh? Pick up the waves. Pick up the waves?
“No one else can listen in, is what he’s asking,” Hudson said.
Oh. I had heard him correctly.
“Um, no. I mean, I’ve used this thing for a long time and I’ve never heard of anyone picking up on the frequency with another device.”
Except my earpiece used to pick up the walkie-talkies the principal and assistant principal used around the building. Occasionally, I would pick up an entire conversation if one of them was close enough to my classroom. That added distraction was one of the many reasons I’d quit wearing it.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” Clément flicked his wrist in my direction.
How were the French able to both agree to something and dismiss it at the same time?
“Thank you so much,” I said, letting go of his uncaring tone to be grateful for his small agreement.
“En français, s’il vous plaît.”
“Um, merci beaucoup,” I said, my voice rising at the end like it was a question.
“Très bien.”
I glanced at a grinning Hudson. My stomach fluttered at his approving smile. The way his cheeks pressed into his eyes and made them just a little squinty …
Little did either of them know that years of watching Sesame Street was to thank for getting through that brief exchange, not sitting through an entire semester plus three weeks of his class.