Theresa, our housekeeper, had prepared lunch for Fabrice and me, and Joseph had preheated the Porsche Macan for us to go to Bishop, the university in Sherbrooke, which also had a branch in Knowlton, near the manor. With minus twenty-five outside, we appreciated a warm car to drive in. Fabrice is a nice guy. I'm not just saying that because he's my brother. He really is a cream puff. I can always count on him. He's just a bit old-fashioned and principled. He thinks he has to replace our father when he's away, even though I'm two years his senior.

Fabrice took the wheel under a sky filled with snowy clouds and we drove cautiously along the frozen lake, following our twisted little road. He drove slowly, while snowflakes continued to carpet the asphalt, which was already covered in a slippery layer. On the way to the university, Fabrice asked me how the lessons were going. I told him that I was afraid of driving on ice and that I had therefore postponed the sessions needed to get my driving licence validated.

We arrived at the university. I hurriedly opened the door of the Macan when I saw Wendy. Fabrice barely had time to say to me:

— Careful ! The...

Boom! I fall flat on my back. The parking lot was completely frozen and my feet had waltzed.

...parking lot is icy, he finished his sentence while Wendy had skated over to me on her Doc Martens to help me pick up my things. I rubbed my butt and walked away without taking my soles off the ground as if nothing had happened.

— Did you see him? I asked my girlfriend.

—Who's that? Quentin?

I scolded her with my dark eyes, as if to say, "Yes, and while you're at it, whistle loud and clear so that everyone can hear!"

She understood me at once and almost whispered back:

—No, I've just arrived. I haven't seen him.

I hid my disappointment as we went to maths class. I hate mathematics. I tore my hair out during statistics class, constantly looking at the hands of the clock which seemed stuck because I couldn't see them moving. Finally, I escaped into my dreams with Quentin. Did I tell you he was blond? Yes, he's a Swede. That's all the personnel stuff he was willing to let go of during class. He has large, very light blue eyes, lined with bald eyelashes. Yes, it feels weird. We almost don't see them, but we only notice his irises. And his voice. Warm and serious, like that of Leonard Cohen. I would listen to him talk for hours...

Wendy suddenly jabbed me in the ribs with her sharp elbow.

I was about to scold Wendy, but I stopped myself as I looked at the black marbles of the maths teacher standing over me.

— I'm waiting for Miss Petersen!

— Erm...

A blank. What on earth had he asked for?

—So, this Poivre-Laplace theorem, do you know it or not?

I turned pale.

—No... I choked out.

—I didn't hear you properly!

— No... I repeated half-heard. I had turned scarlet.

—Fine, you'll have detention tonight!

Seriously ? Were we in kindergarten or what? Who did he think he was? Did he think I had nothing else to do? 

Wendy looked at my pout with a sad smile. Damn, to top it all off, my aunt was going to kill me. Eleanor had made it clear to me that I had to be home at 5:30 p.m. for a very important conversation. And we weren't disobeying Aunt Eleanor.

— I'll tell Fabrice, suggested Wendy as I texted the news to Aunt Molly.

—I'm afraid that won't be enough, I lamented, asI finished my text to the nicest of my aunts. It's obvious you don't know her. She's a terror! At least Molly will try to give her a pill...

—Come on, you're turning eighteen. Maybe you're old enough to start resisting your aunt Eleanor, right?

She tapped her cheek with her index finger.

— I'm telling you! I'm scared to death of her. Once, when I was seven, I was singing at the dinner table. She told me to stop and I didn't listen. Do you know what she did? She ripped my doll out of my hands and cut its mouth open with scissors. And she threatened me, saying that if I sang that song one more time in front of her, she'd cut my vocal chords with her own hands! The worst thing was that everyone was there. My Auntie Molly, my cousins, Fabrice and my parents. Nobody even flinched!

—I knew she was crazy, but this is bordering on a mental hospital! Oops, sorry... I forgot you already had your Aunt Antoinette in an institution.

—Yes, what a family! Oh, but they have a lot of good points too. You know, Mum explained to me why she was like that. Eleanor fell madly in love with a singer, but he never wanted to marry her. The most tragic thing was that he died shortly after they broke up. She never got over it and never married.

— Oh, I see...

Two circumflex accents framed her almond-shaped eyes, as if to say 'what a family of weirdos...'.

—Nonetheless, she's a real handful. I don't know what she'll do to me if I'm not on time.

The day passed without any other major events happening. My phone beeped. A new email from Mum had just come in.

"Sweetie,

We finally made it to a station with an antenna. I'm taking this opportunity to give you an update. We have to leave already. We have spotted the polar bear we were looking for and we don't want to lose it. We will go further north with your father to follow it.

I need to talk to you about something I was hoping to tell you in person. Have you met a boy? I hope with all my heart that he is charming, open and will love you with all his heart. He has to be. One can only love you when one meets you.

I'm doing this email again for the fourth time, luckily I had saved the beginning of my email. The power keeps going out. I'm going to have to keep this short. Your aunts Eleanor and Molly will be calling you in before your birthday. It's very important that you listen to them and follow their instructions to the letter. This is important, honey. It's a matter of . . . life and death. . . Anyway, don't worry too much and everything will be fine. Don't tell anyone.

Daddy and I give you a big, big hug and give your brother a big hug too for us.

PS: Put on your red dress for the party."

I was intrigued to the core. A matter of life and death? But what was she talking about? My watch beeped. It was time for detention. I headed towards the assigned room so puzzled that I didn't recognize Quentin at first when he called out to me. But when my eyes looked up at his blonde curls, my heart started to race.

—Chenoa, What are you still doing here? Classes are over! He said.

—Yes, I know, I have detention.

He smiled and little furrows appeared in the corners of his eyes. I found that frighteningly attractive.

—Detention? I'm surprised. You're usually very diligent! It wouldn't be with Mr. Monks by any chance?

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as he stared at me.

—Yes, how did you know?

—Don't worry. He's the only one who gives so much detention. He got me detained too. He doesn't want to go home to see his wife, so he finds every excuse to stay at university.

—Oh, you too? My watch beeped again.

—You'd better go or you'll get detained again next week!  

—Yes, I'm going!

And as I hurried towards the room and only the two of us were left in the hallway, he shouted to me:

—By the way, I'm coming Saturday night. Thanks for the invitation!

—Great! I answered without turning around so he wouldn't see that I was blushing with happiness.