Make Me Bad(Private Lessons)

Chapter Five




Madison





I'm annoyed when I get back to our flat and find that Cleo is out and about. I need to do some serious venting about Luc's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde persona.

On second thought, maybe it's a good thing Cleo isn't here. I should really just keep my mouth shut about Luc. He’s said himself that he could lose his job. I’m pretty sure sleeping with your students will make you a pariah in any educational circle, no matter what the circumstances. Paris study abroad or not.

What is it about being in Paris that makes me lose my inhibitions? Kissing Luc in the music room was incredibly sexy and if he hadn’t had half a brain to stop us, I probably would have dropped my panties for him again right there.

Oh my god. I’m turning into a slut. Does this make me a slut?

And if it does, do I really care?

Luc has an undeniable power over me...I lose control and forget every good value my parents ever instilled in me. And I would die—just die—if my parents ever found out what was going on.

I head back into my room and put my guitar down. I open my laptop, but I’m too keyed up to do anything productive, so I shut it and wander back into the kitchen. It’s after six. Cleo and I should've already been one bottle of wine deep by now.

Screw it. I can open one myself and these are desperate circumstances. I pull a bottle of chilled white out of the fridge, and pour myself a glass. I take three large sips and instantly feel better. I drain the glass and pour myself another.

I have schoolwork to do, but I’m certainly not doing it while drinking, so I pull out a glossy Paris fashion magazine and settle onto the couch, facing our balcony and panoramic views of the city. The Eiffel Tower is directly in my line of vision, and I take a moment to realize how truly lucky I am to be here. How many people can look out their window and see the Eiffel Tower in all its amazing glory? I really owe my parents for finding this apartment. I don’t even want to think about how much it cost. I need to find them some pretty amazing Christmas gifts while in Paris.

It's only the first week in October, and our semester abroad doesn't end until December fifteenth. Just like in New York, our classes go until the first week in December, and then we have a week to wrap up and take finals. I'm so excited to see the city of Paris decorated for the holidays.


My parents offered to come out and spend a long weekend in the city, but we haven’t talked about it since. It might be nice to see them for a few days, and it would be fun to go shopping with my mother. We don’t have a break for Thanksgiving since it isn’t celebrated in Paris, but we've been told that no one is going to give us a hard time if we take a long weekend to travel back to the states. I don't feel like doing all that traveling back and forth to Nashville for just a couple of days. Especially when I'll be going home for winter break a few short weeks later.

It's not a decision I need to make now, but I am leaning towards staying in Paris for Thanksgiving. Almost everyone else is staying too. All of a sudden my thoughts of vacation and travel are interrupted as Cleo breezes in the front door.

“Hey.” she calls, placing her bag down on the table. She looks at the open bottle of wine on the counter. “You started without me.”

“You were late.” I say simply.

“I didn’t know I had a curfew.”

“You don’t. I just didn’t realize that you were going out and I needed the wine STAT.”

Cleo laughs, pours herself a glass and sits next to me.

“So how was your one-on-one lesson with Professor Pascal?” she asks, her tongue wagging. Clearly, I'm not the only one who finds him sexy.

I shrug, blushing a bit. “It was good. He’s really talented. But I think he was surprised by the fact that I’m good.” I make a face. I don’t like to brag about my talent, but I'll admit it had been a little insulting Luc was so surprised when I played for him.

“You’re more than good.” Cleo points out. “You’re freaking amazing, and he’s an idiot for just realizing that now. I mean, hello, he’s like this big shot music person, he’s our advisor in Paris, and he’s just now realized how good you are?” She shakes her head. “He’s an idiot.”

“A sexy idiot.” I add.

“Oh, definitely a sexy idiot. But he’s certainly is hot and cold isn’t he? One second he’s having a great time, drinking wine with all of us and then the next, he’s this stuck up, closed-off professor.” She says, squinting her eyes.

I know what Cleo means, but I wonder if Luc has to be that way. If he has to at least try to act like our teacher.

“I agree,” I say slowly, “but I wonder if maybe he shouldn’t be socializing with us in such a familiar way.”

“Oh please! Do you know how many teachers socialize with their students? And we’re in Paris! He would be a weirdo not to hang out with us.”

“Maybe.” I really don’t know about these things. I guess I'm na?ve in so many ways. Cleo, who'd grown up outside of DC, always seemed worldlier than I was.

We shift the conversation away from Luc, which is probably best as I’m still wrestling with whether or not to tell my best friend that I’ve slept with him, and if I keep drinking at this pace, the secret's going to spill eventually. We spend the rest of the evening finishing our bottle of wine, and eat a late dinner in a cute little restaurant on our street.