Chapter 12: Overwhelmed

My Mom made an arrangement to make me stay in jail for four days.

She got me fake arrested for four days to curve my behavior, talking about how I couldn't gotten assault charges for punching that guy, for calling Brenda a stupid bitch.

But she was fucking asking for it, so when I got released from jail, having missed not only my Monday classes but my Wednesday classes too, I went straight to work with no intention of talking to anybody.

I hate Brenda more than. I ever have before, and I'd rather to bankrupt by staying in hotels than be friends with her.

When I get home from work, I have to pack because my flight to France leaves at three in the morning.

I can't wait to get away from my Mother.

_____

When I got home, Mason and my Mom were there, but there was no sign of Brenda.

"Have a good time?" Mom calls.

I just want to sleep until I'm dead.

I grunt in response, walking into the bedroom. I start picking out clothes, getting things that are warm because it's only February.

I frown. Does it snow in Paris?

I sigh bitterly as I think about the only person aside from my professor that would know the answer to that question. I pack warm clothes anyways and fill my suitcase, putting everything I need in there before dragging myself to the kitchen.

"Make any friends?" Mom asks.

"Didn't you miss your flight?" I ask.

"No, I cancelled it. You are a fucking disgrace, Nathan. It took my three hours to talk your Dad down so he didn't come here and physically kick your ass."

I grunt in response.

"I can't fucking wait until tomorrow, when you get to France. Whatever is holding back Odeletta from you will come to the light and maybe she will talk to you."

"I wouldn't bet on it." I grumble.

I open the fridge, but my Mom reaches over and slams it shut.

"You had sex with her, Nathan."

"You told her?" I look at Mason.

"Uh...Brenda did, during your little argument in the mall."

He looks to be pissed at me, and I press my lips into a thin line, getting a glass of water.

I chug it and put my dish in the dishwasher.

"I have a week long trip to France tomorrow." I say. "So I'm going to bed."

"It's three in the afternoon." Mason says.

"Yeah, I get twelve hours of sleep on my days off." I say. "I'm burning energy."

I walk into the bedroom and shed my clothes.

We have to meet at the airport at one in the morning at the gate.

I'm sleeping while I can.

_____

I wake up to the sound of my alarm.

Shoving my bitterness aside, I slam my hand down on the stop button and get out of bed, crossing the hall to shower.

It's midnight. I can hear movement in the kitchen as I get in the shower. I wash quickly and get out and shave, packing all of my last minute things into my suitcase. I brush my teeth and walk into the kitchen in a pair of jeans and no shirt. Mom is making breakfast food.

"Mom, it's midnight." I mumble.

"You are getting on a twelve hour flight." Mom says. "And I want you getting on with a full stomach so you don't punch a flight attendant."

"Mom." I groan.

She slams the spatula on the counter at Mason walks in.

"Do not whine, Nathan." She snaps. "You are a grown ass man with the mentality of a four year old! Go put on clothes before you hit me next."

Letting out a grunt, I turn around and stomp across the apartment.

"Keep stomping your feet, Nathan, you'll get you and Mason homeless because you'll piss off the downstairs neighbor!" She calls.

I slam my bedroom door, huffing.

That guy should have stayed out of my business.

I put on a pair of normal denim jeans, a gray sweater, a jean jacket with tan fur inside, a tan beanie, a black scarf, and brown boots. I drag my suitcase to the living room and go to the kitchen where Mason is eating the eggs and bacon.

"Nathan, take off your jacket or it won't do you any good outside." Mom says sternly.

I shed my coat and put it on the couch, sitting down in front of the other plate. She puts a mug of coffee in front of each of us and watches until we're both done eating.

"Let's go or you guys will be late." She says, taking the keys to my car off the counter. "I'll keep your place nice and clean." She adds.

So I put my coat on and we head down to the car, Mom locking up behind us. She's going to just drop us off. We load the trunk to my Toyota and I get in the passenger seat. Mom starts the car and moves the seat forward and we all put on our belts and she starts the drive to the airport.

When we're a couple minutes away, she breaks the thick, tension filled silence.

"Nathan, I hope that whatever is going on with Odeletta works out for the better." Mom says seriously. "I hope you two can figure out what you have going on, I hope that it all turns out okay. I just want my little boy back, and lately, I don't even recognize you."

She stops at the airport drop off.

"Have a safe flight boys." She gets out of the car and hugs both of us. "Be safe!"

I grunt in response, taking my things from the trunk.

She rolls the window down.

"If you punch anybody, I'll have your ass in jail!" She yells through the window.

I just walk into the airport, Mason following closely behind me.

This is going to be a long, long life.

_____

Odeletta sat in the front of the plane, and I sat as close to her as possible. I'm on the opposite aisle but one beat behind hers, so I can see her. She's been a nervous wreck the entire time, her leg bouncing up and down uncontrollably. I look at Mason.

"I'm sorry." I say. He raises his eyebrows. "For everything I said to Brenda...I'm sorry."

"She started it." He says. "But thanks."

"Welcome." I say, glancing at Odeletta.

We already had the layover. When we land in France, it will be midnight in Paris, but three in the afternoon in Denver.

We aren't landing in Paris though. I found that out when I met up with the class at one. We're landing in a place called Troyes, which, if I recall, is the same place that Odeletta grew up.

So I keep watching her for the last few hours, watching her sit there anxiously, her leg bouncing uncontrollably.

When the plane is landed and they open the doors, Professor Gaillard told us not to get off the plane until everyone else is off.

So, after a couple of minutes, she says we can get off, and we all file off.

Immediately, I'm overwhelmed, because there's so many voices, but I have no idea what any of them are saying.

Odeletta is looking around, and we all move out of the way, standing to where we can all be together.

I see her eyes moving around wildly, taking in faces, listening to conversations.

"This is overwhelming." I mutter to Mason.

"You got that right." Some kid near me says.

"Okay guys, seeing as Paris is two hours away and there aren't any busses until morning, we're going to have to get a hotel here in Troyes for the night." She says. Odeletta turns around and says something to her in French, and I just listen to the two of them go back and forth for a minute. They seem to be frustrated with one another, and Gaillard nods eventually, and then asks her some question. Odeletta responds easily, and they go back and forth for another minute and then Gaillard turns to us. She looks worried, but she smiles.

"Let's go you guys."

"How are we getting to the hotel?" I ask. French people start looking at me weird, and I realize it's because they have no idea what I'm saying.

"We are going to walk." Gaillard says. I look at all of the signs in French and I'm just completely overwhelmed.

"I wish you and Odeletta were still fucking." Mason says, a bit too loud. "Then we'd have her to translate."

Every fucking head in out class turns, including Odeletta and Professor Gaillard's.

They all look between me and the French brunette a couple feet away from me and then continue walking, whispering about us. She shoots Mason a death glare and walks with Gaillard, where they are quietly conversing in French. Gaillard looks completely panicked about whatever she's saying. I nudge Mason.

"Do you think she's talking about the execution?" I whisper.

"Probably." Mason mumbles as we reach baggage. I don't know what the signs say, so I just follow Gaillard.

I'm going to walk in front of a car or something because I can't read the signs.