Fluent in you

There’s a distinct difference between a Sunday night and a Monday morning when you’re secretly counting down the hours to see someone.

Over the weekend, my apartment had felt entirely too quiet. On Monday morning I lingered over my coffee, savoring it, before the clock caught my eye.

It was time to prepare for my first English tutoring session of the day. I put on some subtle makeup, using a bit of mascara, to highlight my black eyes, and a pink lipstick, that really accentuated my pouty lips, then I tied my brown hair into a neat bun.

I sat down in front of the computer and waited for the first student. Michel. The only French student I had. He was 35, lived in Marseille, worked in investments and, most importantly, he was single.

We had a brief discussion about relationships recently and he said that his last girlfriend and he were together for almost a year, but ended things because she was a smoker and he wasn’t into the smell at all. She wasn’t even interested in quitting either, so that became the reason why he ended things with her.

Sadly, he was getting closer to the end of the English lessons he had purchased. I didn’t know if he would want to continue or not, since his English was okay and his main interest was just practicing the language, in order to become fluent.

When the class started, I spotted the handsome brown haired guy I had been dying to see ever since our last class on Thursday. It’s crazy how much I enjoyed talking to him.

More than anything, I liked his masculine jaw and his beard. I definitely had a thing for men’s beards.

“Hello, Amanda!” he said. “It’s good to see you. I hope your weekend was good!”

“Good morning, Michel! Yes, it was, and I trust yours was too!” I replied, smiling back.

“A bit sad, since we haven’t had any class since Thursday…”

Oh! So he was feeling the same way I was…

“Well, here we are now. Anything you want to say before we check the homework?” I said.

“So many things… but I’m sure it’s not the right moment for it.”

I wondered for a couple of seconds if I should ask what he meant by that. But then he started speaking again, so I lost my chance.

“So… the homework… I didn’t do it, because I had a lot of work. Sure you are not surprised, no?”

“Surely! Surely not surprised, indeed. This has happened many times before,” I laughed.

I didn’t know why I bothered to give him any homework at all, because he almost never did it. That made me a bit exasperated. But I still liked him, because of his joy and charm.

We carried on with the lesson. When traveling came up, I confessed that I wanted to go to Paris that year, whereas he confessed that he was thinking about staying in the USA for a couple of months, as he wanted to ‘live the American dream’. But he hadn’t decided on the city yet.

“Okay, Amanda. But I do want to ask about a word you used just now. Homesick. I understand the 'sick' part, but is it truly a sickness? Like a fever?”

“Not exactly. It’s more of a... heavy feeling in your chest. Like you’re in a beautiful place, but a piece of you is still back where you belong. You feel incomplete.”

“Incomplete. Je vois. (I see.) This sounds very poetic,” Michel said, as he leaned closer to his camera.

“It can be. Have you ever felt it, Michel?”

“Well lately, when we disconnect this call... I feel a different kind of 'sick.' My home is here, but I feel as if the 'piece of me' you mentioned is actually thousands of miles away, sitting in a room in America.”

“Michel…”

I tried to catch my breath…

“I am practicing my English, yes? So tell me if I am using the word correctly. If I am in my house, but I suffer because you are not in it with me... can I say that I am homesick for you?”

My heart was hammering against my ribs. Michel looked like he was holding his breath, waiting for me to either reject his boldness or lean into it.

I cleared my throat and said:

“You can’t just say things like that, Michel. I think my brain just short-circuited.”

A small, boyish smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, so I have used the word correctly then? And it created a... short circuit?”

“More like a power outage.”

My mind was racing. I couldn’t help but wonder where this would lead, or if he spoke to other women the same way. I was afraid of falling for him and his smooth words, when in fact his interest wasn’t real.

“I am simply a man who is honest about what he wants. And right now? I want to stop looking at this pixelated version of you. I want to see if your eyes glow in reality too, or if it’s just the screen glow.”

My voice dropped, losing its playful edge. “And if I said I wanted the same thing?”

His face brightened instantly. “Meet me in Paris.”

“Paris? You’d leave the coast just to meet me?”

I was practically fishing for reassurance, desperate for proof that his interest in me was genuine.

“I would walk to Paris if the planes stopped working. We will be tourists together. No real life. Just we, and whatever this 'homesick' feeling is trying to tell us.”

Walk to Paris?! Now that was something I would definitely love to see! A man willing to go to such lengths for a woman… it felt like a page ripped straight out of a romance novel. A dream came true.

“I do have a week of vacation saved up…” I said, the idea beginning to take root.

It was an intoxicating thought. I wondered how he would act in person, what our chemistry would feel like.

“Then pack a bag, Amanda. Pack something light, pack something warm... pack whatever makes you feel like the woman I’ve been dreaming of for three months.”

My breath caught.

He had been thinking about me for three months? In what way?

“I… I will see…”

I was completely at a loss for words. I didn’t know whether I should dare to hope for something or if I was hanging on to an impossible fantasy. But deep down, I knew I was more than willing to give it a try and see where it led.

“Stop thinking so much. Let’s live! This is my homework for you. Look for a plane ticket to Paris. And tell me the dates. I will do the same,” Michel said.

I looked away from the screen, trying to anchor myself, as a frantic flutter of butterflies erupted in my stomach. I felt like a little girl with a crush. A handsome one.

“Alright. I will see what I can find.”

The biggest smile appeared on his face. Between his grin and the frantic pounding of my heart, I felt like screaming with pure excitement.

“I can’t wait, Amanda!”