The High School Bad Boy
Chapters 11. The Burden I Have To Carry (The Burden I Should Bear).

Wulan was shocked when she realized that Adrienne, her fellow teacher, was looking at the piece of paper she was looking at while smiling - a small smile.

"Wow, who painted it? Very good," he was amazed - amazed.

"It's so good that - until my ugly facial expression looks so clear" Wulan said. But in his heart he so praised the results of Max's hand graffiti.

He did not expect. Max turned out to have an incredible latent talent. It was a pity that all of that was drowned out by her bawdy attitude. Maybe Wulan should approach the boy. Max has a high potential. Max needs someone to support him. As a teacher, maybe that's one of Wulan's assignments.

"Some one is looking for you" said Adrienne, pushing her chin towards the door of the room.

Wulan who was cleaning up her books and preparing to go home threw a glance at the door and found Damien who had just entered. The man's smile was snuggled.

"You're dating Damien?" adriene asked half a whisper.

Wulan looked up and shook her head. "Of course not" he whispered. Then he got up from his seat and walked over to Damien.

"You're done? I'll drive you home, okay?" tawar Damien as soon as they walked through the corridor.

"No need, I take the metro (underground train) only," refused Wulan smooth.

"You want to drink something, maybe?"

"Emmm .. I'm a little tired, d'Sole (sorry), Damien."

Damien shrugged both of his shoulders while throbbing. "Bon, ben, a demain alors (yes, until tomorrow then)" he said. Then he left Wulan.

Wulan also stepped in the opposite direction. He saw Max locking his locker. Then attach the bag to his back, prepare to leave.

"Max!" call Wulan makes Max stop his steps.

"Quoi (what)?" ask Max coldly. He continued his steps without waiting for Wulan's reply. Making Wulan run around chasing his long stride.

"Hey, your paintings are great, Max. Yes, even though my face looks ugly," chuckled Wulan. "But I'm serious. You're very talented."

Max just pulled the corner of his lips. He was not impressed by Wulan's praise.

"You paint often?" ask Wulan.

"No."

"It's a shame." Wulan scowled disappointedly. "When your potential is huge, Max. If you could develop your talent, you would definitely become a great painter."

"Hmmm ...." That's all that came out of Max's mouth.

Both are now outside the school gates. Max walked down the sidewalk without caring for Wulan who kept walking beside him.

"Have you ever visited a small painting gallery near the Picasso Museum? The Les Marais. My husband and I once bought a painting there. The owner is a grandfather, emm .. otherwise his name is wrong ...." Wulan thought for a moment while stroking her chin.

"Batrick!" exclaim Wulan.

Max's chest is pounding. But he still did not flinch.

"I think you should meet and learn from him. The painting is very good. Maybe one stream with you."

"You're married?" max asked arrived - arrived. Without looking at Wulan beside him.

"Huh?" Wulan gasped. "Emm .. I mean, my ex .. husband." He choked. It still feels awkward to call Pierre as an ex-husband.

Max descends the subway station steps followed by Wulan.

Michel-Ange Auteuil, station name.

"Why are you following me?" max asked as soon as they arrived next to the train tracks, waiting for the metro to come.

"We're one-way, Max," Wulan said.

***

Max opened the door to his apartment slowly. The living room that is not too big seems empty. He did not see his father there. Usually the middle-aged man was drinking while waiting for him to come home, and ransacking the contents of his wallet.

But the room was quiet.

Max who sensed something strange immediately stepped into his father's room. The door's a little open. Max opened the door slowly and was aghast to find the Father lying on the floor in a reclining position.

"Oh, no, Papa!" he shouted while scattering at the man and painstakingly turned his body.

"Lude!" call Max in despair.

Ludovic, the Father, opened his eyes slowly. He blinked - glaring his eyes. Then look around. As soon as he saw the figure of Max who was holding his chest, he immediately brushed off his son's hand.

"Surge!" hardiknya while pushing Max's body until strayed back.

"Putain (fucking)!" maki Max is between annoyed and relieved to see her father is fine. He cupped his forehead with both hands.

"What are you doing here, get out there!"

Max hit the floor with his fist. Then immediately got up and stepped out of Ludovic's room.

He sat languidly on the floor of his room while leaning his back against the edge of the bed.

The corner of his eye condensed.

Men cannot cry.

With all his might Max held back his tears from falling. He looked up at the sky - the sky of his room.

***

RUE DE LA ROCHELLE, STALINGRAD, SURESNES.

The alley was narrow, seedy and full of trash. Max, usually does his cannabis sales transactions at that place.

As of this moment, Max was accompanied by Etienne, meeting someone who a few days ago ordered things from her.

The transaction went smoothly. 1000 euros entered his pocket. The half will go to Nicholas and Havier, the supplier of goods.

"Drink?" Etienne's up - up her eyebrows.

"Sure," said Max as he smoked his cigarette and slammed it on the floor. Then stepped.

Both are moving out of the Stalingrad area.

.

.

Max and Etienne sat on the sidewalk floor in a row of shuttered shops. Across the street was a liquor store where they bought two bottles of Benefectine just a moment ago.

Max chugged his drink straight out of the bottle. Feeling the warm liquid flowing down his throat.

"Hey, isn't that Miss Wulan?" point Etienne at someone who just walked into the liquor store.

Max threw his eyes across. He only caught a glimpse of a thick-mouthed woman with her winter knit hat disappearing behind the shop door.

A few minutes later the woman came out with a tote bag that she flanked with one arm.

Max gestured for Etienne to be quiet when he saw her best friend about to call Wulan who was standing in front of the store, with a face that looked gloomy.

The place where they sat was quite dark. So that Wulan could not see their whereabouts. However Max and Etienne could see Wulan's face clearly under the bias of the street lamp.

Occasionally Wulan was seen taking deep breaths, then raising his head to the sky for a while, touching his face and making gestures like wiping away tears on his cheeks.

Max stunned. That little lady across there looks fragile. Alone, lonely.

If he was holding his painting equipment at the moment, it would be like to pour the beautiful scenery before his eyes onto the canvas.

Woman from nowhere.

Maybe that's the title he'll stick to his painting.

Not feeling the sight of his eyes following the movements of Wulan's body that began to move away.

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