He chuckled. "I hope so, you didn't eat a single thing yesterday. If you wait a second, I'll have another roll fresh out of the oven."
"That's all right, I'm full," I said. "I'm going to visit Devereaux right now anyway."
Pascal's eye widened. "Wait, seriously? But it's the middle of the day." In a lower voice, he added, "Headmaster will be pissed if she knows you're shirking your duties."
I steeled myself. Despite my determination, I wasn't used to this new way of thinking. I had to make an active effort to fight back against years of Headmaster mentally beating me down.
"I know," I said. "I… I don't care."
Pascal laughed. "Who are you? It's like your bed was a cocoon and now you’ve metamorphosized into a rebellious butterfly."
I smiled. "It does feel that way."
"Well, I'm all for it. It's like I've been saying, what the hell else can Headmaster do to you? She's already committed to tossing you in the street."
I nodded. I hadn't forgotten about that. It was a big reason behind my choice to disobey her. She had no more leverage over me. By following my own path, I was taking away her power.
Pascal's gaze softened. He checked over his shoulder to make sure the children weren't close enough to hear, then whispered, "By the way, what are you going to do about that? I'm glad for you, escaping from Headmaster's clutches and all, but where are you going to stay?"
The thought should've panicked me, but for some reason I felt calm. "I don't know. But I know I can figure it out."
Pascal regarded me curiously before breaking out into a grin. "What about staying with Devereaux? You seem to like each other’s company."
The suggestion amused me. From what Devereaux had told me, his place of residence was as nebulous as mine. And that was okay. When we were together, it felt like everything would be okay in the end, no matter what happened.
"Maybe we can talk about it today," I suggested.
"There you go! Look at you, making big plans. I'm happy seeing you like this, Florian." He gave me a gentle, playful nudge with his elbow. "You're not gonna forget about me forever when you waltz off into the sunset together, right?"
"We're not waltzing anywhere," I said with a laugh. "I think you're overestimating how much he likes me. We're just... friends."
My throat tightened up as I said it. How much of that was true? I could describe Pascal as my friend without issue, but the term didn't fit right when it came to Devereaux. He meant something different to me. Sure, he was my friend too, but in a way, he transcended friendship. Devereaux represented something I didn't have words for.
Or maybe it was all in my head. I didn't know how Devereaux felt about me in return. He might not even reciprocate my feelings. I could "just" be a friend to him, or even less. We'd only met a handful of times, after all. It wasn't like we knew each other incredibly well.
So why did it feel like we did? When I was with Devereaux, it felt like hereallysaw me, blindfold be damned.
Pascal shrugged, deciding not to comment on my choice of words. "Who knows? Weirder things have happened. Oh! Before I forget..." He dashed off to retrieve a basket from the kitchen counter, then returned. "Here."
"More bread? But I'm already full."
He grinned. "Not for right now, silly. Share it with your man. Go on a picnic or something."
My cheeks heated up, warmer than the fresh-out-of-the-oven bread. "He's not my man!"
"Yeah, yeah."
I glanced at the kids sitting round the table, munching away on their rolls.
"What about them?" I asked quietly. "Is there enough for the children?"
"More than enough," Pascal assured me. "Geez, you're such a worrywart. Would I give you extra bread if there wasn't enough to go around?"
"No..."
"Exactly." Pascal pushed me out the door. "Now go already, before it gets cold. Tell him I said hi."
He wasn't going to let it go, was he? I relented and sighed with a smile. "Fine, I'm going. Thanks, Pascal."
