The High School Bad Boy
Chapter 8. Je Suis Desole, Madame (I'm sorry, Mom).

Wulan stepped gontai inside her apartment. He threw his coat and bag away. Then he lay low on his bed.

This Si Max's.

He hit - hit his bed furious. Then lay on his back looking at the sky - the sky of his room. He used his pants pocket to pick up his phone.

Wulan scrolls the phone screen up and down, and vice versa. His eyes were fixed on a single name in the row of contacts.

Pierre.

He breathed his rough breath. Not sure if she'd call her ex-husband for help. But if you have to wait until the salary drops, this month he will be in arrears to pay the rent. He can - he can be kicked out of here. Paris is not playing about this.

Wulan squeezed her face in frustration. His chest was boiling with rage. Or pity, maybe. Anger and pity.

***

JEAN LYCEE - BAPTISTE SAY, SURESNES.

Wulan swept her gaze across the classroom with a grim face. He's looking for Max. But the chair that the young man used to sit on was empty.

God fucking.

The class was as rowdy as ever. No flirting with Wulan's presence there.

Wulan walked over to Etienne who was busy chatting with her two friends. Chen and Frederick.

He knocked on Etienne's desk with the back of her clenched hand. He asked the young man's attention.

"Where's Max?" ask Wulan.

"Why do you always ask Max, Miss?" ask Etienne.

"I want to know where the address is."

"You like Max, Miss?" etienne was greeted with laughter by Chen and Fred.

Upset, Wulan gripped Etienne's arm hard.

"Aauch, sick, Miss," whined Etienne.

"Tell me where Max's address is!" exclaim Wulan.

"Ben, Stalingrad (yes, stalingrad)," said Etienne with her innocent face.

Wulan kicked the table hard. Spill his frustration there.

"I know his home in Stalingrad. Which building?" bentak Wulan's.

"What's wrong with you, Miss? You did like him, didn't you until you found the address?"

It felt like Wulan was about to strangle this bengal young man before her. He was silent for a moment. Adjusting his breathing to control his anger that was about to explode.

"Etyne ...." Wulan lowered her tone. "If you see Max, tell him I'm looking for him, d'accord(okay)?"

"Come, Miss." Etienne raised her thumb.

Wulan alternately stared intently at Etienne, Chen and Fred. Then step towards the blackboard.

Past tense's.

Wulan wrote two words there.

"Anyone knows what past tense is?" yells.

Only noise is heard.

"All right, you all know. Bravo!" sindir Wulan's.

***

Etienne approached Max, who was leaning on his back in a narrow alley near his apartment. Grabbing the cigarette that was being smoked Max, and leaning back beside him.

"Hey, Miss Wulan is looking for you."

Max didn't budge.

"You managed to steal money from him?"

"Oui (yes)."

Etienne. "It's worth it yesterday he looked ferocious in class."

"I'm going to give it back" Max said as he reclaimed the cigarette in Etienne's hand.

"Have you deposited money on Nicholas and Havier?"

"I've deposited it."

"Then, how are you going to return Miss Wulan's money?"

"I'll think about it later."

Etienne. "For what is returned. You want to do good or what?"

"As far as you go" said Etienne. "Where's the cigarette pack?"

Max reached into his jacket pocket and gave Etienne a pack of cigarettes.

***

For three days, Max did not show his nose at school. Wulan became angry. Etienne and her friends won't give her Max's address. If this is how he has to go to Stalingrad to find the boy himself and hold him accountable.

Wulan stood between the buildings - the slums of the area that is notoriously vulnerable. It is undeniable that the fear of attacking him a little.

Catcalling (verbal abuse), he received from the residents of Stalingrad since he entered the area a few minutes ago.

He breathed deeply - deeply. Where he'll start looking for the boy's address.

Stalingrad is quite large.

Wulan's eyes were fixed on a group of young men who were chatting in the corner of a five-story apartment building with dull wall paint. He ventured to greet them, intending to ask for Max's address.

"Excusez - moi (excuse me) ...."

The young men turned towards Wulan. It was seen that they were talking to each other, without letting go of Wulan. Smile - ignorant smiles begin to fall from their lips.

"Wow, there's a beautiful woman." A Middle Eastern-faced young man with his red-painted hair approached Wulan. "Is there anything I can help you with?" ask her while combing her hair with her fingers.

"Do you know a boy named Maximilian Guillaume?" ask Wulan. He was wary as the other youths started to surround him.

"Guillaume's? Max's? Yes .. of course," replied the Redhead. "What's the matter, Miss?"

"I wonder where the address is."

"Oowh .. You want me to tell you Max's address?"

Wulan nodded. The Redhead laughed as he looked at his friends.

"Could only. As long as you accompany us here," he said, grabbing Wulan's arm.

Wulan immediately brushed off the Redhead's hand and pushed the young man back a few steps.

"Well, how dare you?" hardiknya while approaching Wulan back.

"Malik!!"

Someone shouted from behind. Wulan found Max standing not far from her. He put both of his hands in his jacket pocket. His face expression was flat.

"Hey, Max .. somebody's looking for you!" The Red Hair called by the name of Malik exclaimed.

"Yes, he's my friend" said Max as he stepped closer to Wulan and grabbed her arm and took her away from Malik and his gang.

As soon as he got near the deserted alley between the apartment buildings, Wulan pulled his arm roughly.

"You're a brat!" exclaims Wulan while pushing Max's body against the wall. "Why did you steal my money?"

"I just borrowed it" Max said in self-defense.

"Borrowing without the owner's knowledge is tantamount to stealing!" bentak Wulan growled.

Max reached into his pocket and thrust five pieces of 100 euros at Wulan.

"Je suis desole, Madame (i'm sorry, ma'am)" he said.

Wulan who was almost unable to stem his anger is now gradually softened. His gaze also softened. Slowly he took the green sheets of the Baroque and Rococo era window. Then put it in his bag.

"Where did you get the money?" asked Wulan half interrogating.

"C'est pass imported (it doesn't matter)."

"Merci (thank you)" said Wulan.

Max smiled thinly while stroking his nape awkwardly.

"Don't repeat!" hardik Wulan pointed at Max's face.

Max raised both of his hands while blasting his lips.

"Don't skip anymore!" exclaim Wulan. "A demain (until tomorrow)" he continued.

"Enmm .. Missus!" call Max instantly make Wulan's steps stop. "I'll take you out of Stalingrad, okay?"

"Not to."

Max clucking. Without waiting for Wulan's approval, he walked in alignment with her. His gaze was straight ahead without looking towards Wulan. His face was as arrogant as ever.

"I said no!"

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