The night had visibly advised Alicia, who had regained her zest for life. The discussion she had with Thomas probably had something to do with it as well. Still, she had decided to settle into her usual corner for lunch. Thomas hadn't objected, now aware of the girl's problems. You don't cast out old demons so easily.

Outside, a torrential rain fell on the windows of the refectory. The water streamed like tears down a face, and the sky was a dreadful gray. Inside, seats were tight and many high school students found themselves standing and waiting for a few minutes for a seat to finally become available. Thomas and Alicia had been among the first to show up to the dining hall and had no trouble finding a place to eat. Thomas was not unhappy to be away from the general cacophony, and quietly finished his meal. Here, where no one ever came, he didn't have to fear the pressure of another student eager to find a free place to eat.

— Sorry, I'll have to go, excused Alicia.

— Where are you going ? Thomas asked.

— I have techno lessons. Do you mind if I leave you alone?

— Don't worry, go ahead. I eat my dessert and go to the library to study.

— Ok good. We meet at home.

— It works. See you later.

Alicia got up from the table and took her things. She glanced at Thomas then went to unload her tray on the drop-off cart near a trash can. Thomas then found himself alone for the first time in this refectory, his back to the noise of conversations and sighs. He was starting to get used to his new life, and had no problem imagining himself hanging out alone in the halls of school. Either way, he couldn't ask Alicia to babysit all the time. This surprise opportunity was the right time for him to take some liberty and manage his afternoon as he saw fit, namely going to the library to study to compensate for the natural shortcomings he had in relation to other students.

As he munched on his slice of chocolate cake, he felt a faint hiss in his left ear. He turned around and saw 4 teenagers, soda in hand. He immediately recognized the student who came to sit where Alicia had been standing a few minutes before. Peter Johnson.

— Well then, you eat alone French? he said contemptuously.

— What can that do to you? Thomas replied after finishing his bite, not even wondering why Peter had called him "French".

— Did she abandon you, Ali dear? Peter sneered. It's sad.

— Leave me alone.

— Oh no, that's exactly you I was looking for.

— What do you want from me?

— You obviously have a short memory.

Peter untied the lid of his clear glass, which he set on the table. Thomas then noticed that what he thought was soda was actually a mixture of liquid and crushed ice of the same color.

— I told you yesterday that I will welcome you as it should be.

Immediately after this sentence which sounded in his mouth like the climax of a long wait, Peter sprayed Thomas. He received the cold, sticky liquid right in his eyes and the rest of his face. Utterly disoriented by this sudden blindness, he struggled to wipe his eyes. Deprived of one of his senses, he heard voices snickering like hyenas around him, and seconds later he felt a second drink pour over his head, then a third, then a fourth. Paralyzed by the violence of what he had just experienced, Thomas made no effort to defend himself, or even to wipe his eyes. Now the liquid was starting to flow down her neck and back.

— You’re all beautiful now, laughed a male voice he had never heard before.

— We’re even now, so don't you ever stand up to me again, Peter said. Understood ? he finished with his best French.

He didn't wait for answers and made off with his gang. Thomas waited a few moments to recover from his emotions, when a hand slipped under his left armpit.

— Get up, a voice ordered, gripping Thomas' arm.

— I don't see anything, he retorted.

— Hold my arm and follow me.

He then recognized a female voice.

— Alicia? he asked.

— No, it's not Alicia, the voice replied. Follow me, you should not be seen in this state.

So Thomas followed that blind voice for a few seconds, clutching his slender arm. She stopped suddenly, then Thomas heard the sound of a key turning in a lock, and a door opening.

— Go ahead, come in, the voice said.

He immediately raised his right hand in front of him to shield himself from possible obstacles as he groped his way. Still stunned by what had just happened to him, he blindly trusted this voice that guided him. She took her two hands and placed them on a smooth, rounded surface, telling her not to move, then closed the door.

Thomas then heard a metallic sound and then water flowing, and it wasn't long before he realized he was over a sink.

— Slowly lower your head, the voice indicated.

Thomas complied without a word and his hair was quickly in contact with the water.

— Sorry about that. Peter is a jerk, the voice muttered.

— You know him ? Thomas asked.

— Yeah, the voice sighed, running his hands through Thomas's hair. He hasn't missed you, and neither have his asshole buddies.

The voice tried to carefully remove all the liquid and the rest of the crushed ice. This improvised massage was not without displeasing to Thomas, who took advantage of this improbable comfort.

— Yet I asked them not to do it, she whispered.

— What? Do you hang out with them? Thomas wondered.

— It would be way too complicated to explain, and you wouldn't believe me.

His head now soaked in clear water, Thomas heard the voice turn off the tap. He still had no idea where he was, and the lack of a passage seemed to indicate that he might not be in the bathroom. He timidly tried to open his eyes when his vision was covered with a thick white veil.

— Here, dry your hair. Don't worry, it's clean.

Thomas took the thick white veil, which was no more than a towel, and began to blow dry his hair as he stood up.

— On the other hand do not move, you will stain your shirt.

The teen did so and continued to wave the towel over his head while still hunched over at an angle of almost 90 °. He felt a presence behind him, then hands came to hug him at his chest.

— Don’t move, the voice said as Thomas started to turn his head.

One by one, the hands of the voice undid the buttons of Thomas's shirt with a delicacy that contrasted completely with the violence of the hazing he had just suffered. He felt one hand move to the last button, near the waistband, while the other held his shirt collar.

— You finished with the towel?

— Yes thanks.

The wandering hand retrieved the towel and the voice asked Thomas to take his arms off the sleeves of his shirt. When it was done, the hand holding the collar finished removing the shirt from Thomas' back. He turned his head slightly to try to catch a glimpse of the face of the person who had literally undressed him. Not wanting to be noticed, he could only detect a long dark blonde hair.

The voice slicked Thomas' neck and upper back with a towel and then allowed him to stand up. At that moment, he saw the face of his savior for the first time. Her long hair, her ears, the contours of her face, it all came to her mind as abruptly as a fast-paced flashback. There was no doubt, coincidence had got in his way the girl in the pale blue dress he had seen at the homecoming ball. It was brief, but Thomas was sure by now, it was the same person.

The young girl handed Thomas' shirt, who took it and pulled it on at full speed, very embarrassed to find himself in this situation, shirtless in front of someone he did not know. While Thomas busied herself, she smiled a broad smile with snow-white teeth, surrounded by lips plump enough to be sultry without being vulgar. Once dressed in fourth gear, Thomas met the girl's gaze and plunged into her magnificent blue eyes.

— Come on, go now, cut the young girl, laughing. I will have to close.

— Damn, my bag, Thomas panicked.

— Next to the shelf. I wasn't going to leave him anyway.

— Thank you, Thomas answered with relief.

With that, he put his bag over one shoulder and opened the door. The refectory was now empty. Thomas hurriedly walked through it, embarrassed that anyone could find him in this outfit, a hastily buttoned shirt and half-wet hair still. It wasn't until he had climbed a few steps of the staircase to the main hall that he realized he hadn't asked for his benefactor's first name.