Foto bij 661. - Lucien

My suspicion gets proven right the day before I go back to uni. No wonder, I suppose, because it's been quite the task to get uni to work for me in a way that allows me to work as well, and the dean and the rest of the school board had to get involved. A dean who, no doubt, knows Jacques du Castellon and was very curious about his son getting back to school.
He calls me just as I'm about to hit the shower, and I'm stupid enough to pick up because I don't even look who's calling.
"Yhello, you reached Lucien." I press the phone between my ear and shoulder, making sure I've got everything ready before actually stepping under the streams.
"Bonsoir, Lucien." His voice hits me like a ton of bricks. I haven't talked to him since he told me about Cosette. He doesn't sound any different than he usually does, and somehow he still does. "I heard you have been enrolled in Glasgow university."
"It feels like there's some laws being broken if that news got to you the way I suspect it did." I say dryly, surprised to find an absence of my usual anger when I talk to Jacques. "But you heard correctly."
"I was quite surprised to hear it."
I can't help but snort. "I was quite surprised to make the decision, but here we are."
The silence lasts a few seconds. Du Castellons have never been really good at small talk, especially between one another. "I wanted to wish you good luck." The words come out choked, like it's one of the hardest sentences he's ever said. This man can talk to the most hardened criminals of France no trouble, get them to confess or put them away in prison for life, but wishing his only son luck is where he draws the line. Suddenly, the anger I previously lacked comes back in full swing.
"Thanks. Anything else?" It comes out hostile, and I hear him sigh. I can just imagine the look of disappointment on his face.
"Lucien, I..."
"What?"
"Never mind. Have a good evening."
He's hung up on me before I can reply.

"I keep telling you, we need to get you your own car." I chuckle as I turn onto the M8 to Glasgow. "We might be early today, because it's your first day back, but we can't keep carpooling if we don't want to be caught together."
"I can take the train!" Emma protests, but I raise a brow at her.
"A car would be much cheaper. Come on, Em, it'll be useful anyway. You can visit Charles, or your parents, even when I'm gone with this one."
"Yes, talking about this one - what's the use of dressing casual when you're driving down there in a car that would be flashy even for the Cullens?"
"The who?"
"Doesn't matter!" She laughs. "I'm just saying it defeats the point of the tshirt and the cap. Which is very Mean Girls of you, by the way, you're just missing the sunglasses."
"Love, it's barely seven in the morning. Please stop making references I don't understand."
"Will you just address my point?"
I take her hand, having them rest on her thigh, much like we usually drive. "Because we didn't have another one. Yet."
She mimicks my expression from earlier, raising a single, skeptical brow at me. "Even if I got a second, less luxurious car, how would that help you? You just said that the whole point of me getting a car is that so we don't have to carpool." I don't have to reply, because I see the realisation hit her face. With a groan, she lets her head fall back against the headrest. "Where would we even put three cars? Our building only gives us one parking spot!"
"We'd figure something out." I smirk, shrugging. "But let's discuss this tonight, why don't we? There's plenty of other hurdles to overcome today."
"Mhm, I'd say. You nervous?"
I shrug again. "Not really. I had quite some time to prepare since April." I glance her way when I say that, just in time to see her face fall. I immediately feel bad, because I hadn't intended to make her feel bad by bringing up the research I did in her katatonic phase. "Em, come on, we've been over this. It was my way of coping. It worked out great for me in the end, yeah? You said it yourself, I might have my first assignment already finished with the work I did then. Which is great, because I'm usually late on such things."
That makes her laugh, and with the sound breaks the tension. "I can imagine you were a chaotic student, yeah, with the way you party."
I roll my eyes, smiling. "Jokes on you, then, because I'm sure I'll have straight A's now that I'm sleeping with the professor."
She laughs again, though this time she also smacks my thigh. "I told you! I doubt you'll be put in any of my classes. Have you even looked at your schedule? Don't answer that." She immediately adds, grabbing my phone to dig through my email.
"Hey, it's not my fault that they didn't send it until Friday." I chuckle, lifting my foot from the pedal when I see that we're about to hit a traffic jam. Luckily, we have plenty of time. "I don't really check my email on the weekends. All I know is that my first class is today at nine."
Emma rolls her eyes, but says nothing until she finds the email with my schedule. "Now, let's have a look. Your first class is with professor Clare - he's great, if a little slow with his material. I know there's plenty of students who sleep through his lectures."
"I know you don't have high expectations from me, but I would never do that." I have to untangle my hand from hers to grab the stick shift, the cars now nearly having come to a full stop.
"Wait, you follow Civil Procedure?"
I look her way again, noting her surprise. She's frowning, and has grabbed her own phone as well. "Yeah, the board wanted me to. Apparently 'a lot has changed in court since I was last in school'. Figured it'd be easy points, so I didn't argue. Why?"
I'm not sure if her tone is delighted or dismayed. "Because I teach CivPro, and you've been put in my class."

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