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chapitre dix (ten)

“Bonjour à toute la classe! Aujourd'hui, nous allons parler de la "Critique de la raison pure" d'Immanuel Kant et demain nous commencerons à la lire.” Professor LaRue does his routine welcome before explaining the lesson plan. (Good morning, class! Today, we’re going to be talking about Immanuel Kant’s “Critique of Pure Reason” and while onto tomorrow, we will begin reading it as well)
“Pour commencer cette leçon, comme je l'ai dit, nous allons lire le livre et ensuite avoir une brève discussion entre les chapitres.” (To begin this lesson, as I said, we'll read the book and then have a brief discussion in between chapters. )
He leisures to the chalkboard before writing the title of the book on the board. He pauses for a moment then holds up a finger to give us a fact. It’s a gesture he does. “Avant Kant, il était généralement admis que les vérités de la raison doivent être analytiques, c'est-à-dire que ce qui est dit dans le prédicat doit déjà être présent dans le sujet.” (Before Kant, it was generally held that truths of reason must be analytic, meaning that what is stated in the predicate must already be present in the subject)
He then notes, “J'ai dit au début de ce semestre qu'en tant que philosophes, vous comprendrez l'étude et les méthodes philosophiques telles que le questionnement, la discussion critique, l'argumentation rationnelle et la présentation systématique.” (I said at the beginning of this semester, that as philosophers, you'll get an understanding of the study and the philosophical methods like questioning, critical discussion, rational argument, and systematic presentation.)

I used to think that philosophers would just spew a bunch of inspirational quotes to uplift other people. That’s how I was when I was left on my own. Until it took a bunch of warmhearted people to come into my life and lead me down the right path. I never will and want to see them again and I hope I don’t.
After class, I pack up my belongings and then leave the classroom. There was a sickly feeling in my stomach along with a sharp twinge of pain on my way out. I hunch over, hugging myself as I groan from the discomfort. A few students eye me but don’t budge to implore on what the hell is going on with me.
“Severine!” a familiar low voice calls from behind me.
I turn around to see Oliver running in my direction while taking off his jacket.
“Oliver?” I ask although I was tempted to ask him where’s his girlfriend?
“Hey, you might want to take this and wrap it around your waist,” he instructs, handing me his gray windbreaker.
With no questions needed to ask, I instantly knew that something was showing near my ass. I hate being a heavy flower. I quickly tie the arms of his jacket around my stomach, not tight enough for me to ignore the agonizing cramp right there. He takes my hand and guides me to the nurse’s office as if I was in that deep amount of shit that I’m in. Honestly, periods are one big curse for women and that’s a fact. It felt like we were separated for like a year or two because I’ve forgotten how soft his hand was and maybe I’m just being irritatingly melodramatic.
When we arrive at the nurse’s office, I can tell in his mind that he doesn’t want to leave even if a class has already begun. I do question how he could’ve known what was going on and that my flow was showing from far away. The kind nurse hands me a wrapped tampon for me to use then directs me to the bathroom.
“Aren’t you going to class?” I turn to him and inquire.
He shook his head. “It can wait. You’re important right now.”
Oliver gives me a warm smile before he sends me off to the ladies’ room to put on my tampon. The position is so uncomfortable on its own when I have to sit on the toilet with my legs spread open over the bowl. The insertion shouldn’t be a problem. Once that was done, I wash my hands before leaving and not noticing that he was waiting for me out by the front.
“You’re still here,” I say.
“I told you… my class can wait,” he replied.
“Thanks,” I begin to walk away from him.
Saying it like that with such attitude makes me sound like a complete douchebag.
“Wait, Sev! I want to talk to you about something,” he begins to follow behind me.
I head outside for some fresh air and to get distracted from the pain. I’m still hurt by the fact that our times together were cut short all just for another girl.
“Can we just talk?” he asks.
“Talk about what?” I spin around to him.
“You’ve been acting strange lately—”
“I’ve been acting strange? You’re saying that I’ve been acting strange?”
“Yes, every time that Aurélia and I see you, your first instinct is to run away and then pretend like you don’t know us at all. So yeah, I am saying you have because that’s what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks!”
I guess we’re really doing this. Right here and now.
“Hmm, same thing for you too. You’ve been all over this girl who you barely even know,” I retort sharply.
“I do know her!”
“Prove it! When is her birthday?” I ask.
“What does knowing her birthday have to do with anything, Sev?”
“If you love her so much, then you should know a thing or two about her! Relationships are just not based on looks or personality! So, when the hell is her birthday?”
“Um, um—”
“Better yet, answer me this, Oliver. Do you really love her?”
“Severine, I—”
“Do you love her? Does she love you?”
He remains silent.
“Why does love even matter to you so much?” he asks.
I look off to the side for a moment, gathering up all the things I wanted to say to his pretty face from the beginning.
“You really want to know?”
“Ollie, I’m in love with you! For twenty-one years, I’ve been in love with you. And no, it’s not the sex that kept us together. It was those days where we weren’t so wrapped up in passion!”
Oliver’s green eyes were wide and his mouth agape, taking aback by the news. I nearly stunned myself but if this is what’ll get through to him. To make him see that someone actually loves who he is outside of his charms and looks. His goofiness alike, I want him to know that I do.

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