ADELE’S MAGNIFICENT ACADEMY LIFE
Story 3:
Wicked Girl
One day, during lunch, a boy burst into the Class A classroom.
“Which of you is Adele?”
Whoa…
The students were quiet under the boy’s glare.
“Um, I’m Adele…” she said, speaking up.
“Hm, you then?” He had a pompous air and scrutinized Adele rudely.
“All right. I’m going to make you my woman!”
Whaaaaaaaat?!?!
The students hid their faces in their hands.
Adele’s response was immediate. “I refuse.”
“Wh-what?! Do you have any idea who I am?!”
“No. I’m not very good with faces, so…”
This much was true. Even in her previous life, she had always struggled to remember faces, even though she could recall names perfectly—as well as the date and time she had met someone, and what they had talked about. Faces were a no-go, and to be honest, that shortcoming troubled Adele greatly.
“I am Chester von Closson, the third son of Viscount Closson, of Class C!”
“Ah. Well then, what business do you have with me?”
“I just told you! I’m going to make you my woman!”
“But I already declined, didn’t I? If there are no other items, then I need to go ahead and prepare for afternoon lessons, so…”
The boy was enraged. “I’m telling you, I am the third son of Viscount Closson! I’m not one of you peasants or low-ranking swine! How dare you speak to me that way!”
Adele was not impressed by these words. “Oh? But everyone as this school is equal, aren’t they? Regardless of status? Didn’t you hear about this at orientation?
“Furthermore, this is a school for commoners and lesser nobles, as well as the fourth or younger sons and daughters of barons and the like. The third son of a wealthy viscount attending classes here, and not Ardleigh Academy, isn’t really something to boast about, is it?”
WHOOOOAAAAA!
Adele’s classmates were blown away by her honesty. Chester was petrified.
“Anyway, what on earth do you mean by ‘I’ll make you my woman’?!” she went on. “I am my own person. I am no one’s possession. And whatever could you mean by ‘make you’? You’ll do this without my will or consent? Honestly…!”
Just then, someone clutched Adele’s arm. She turned to see Marcela, quickly shaking her head back and forth.
The boy from Class C, named Chester, had been standing stock still, unmoving, for some time.
As it was nearly time for afternoon lessons to start, Marcela began to fret, but it seemed as though someone had alerted Chester’s Class C peers, and a pair arrived to drag the still-frozen boy from the classroom.
As they left, Adele gave the two a bright smile, and said, “Thank you so much.”
“I-It’s no big deal!” they replied. “If you have any more problems, just call on us!”
Adele hadn’t forgotten about Japanese politeness. Or was it feminine wiles that she was recalling instead?
“Ugh! That ‘make you my woman’ thing was ridiculous. He’s probably just mimicking something that he heard from his father or older brother,” said Marcela. “I suppose he thought that if he could snag Adele, the gem of Class A, it would be a boon for his reputation. I wouldn’t worry over it.”
“All right…” Adele said and nodded sincerely, thankful for Marcela’s advice.
During lunch the following day, Chester stopped by the Class A classroom once again.
“Adele, let’s go shopping together on tomorrow’s rest day!” he said.
The class watched, worried. If a fellow classmate had extended a normal-seeming invitation to her, Adele wouldn’t have responded rudely. She wanted friends after all, both female and male.
The thought of hanging out with a boy wasn’t totally foreign to Adele—she was, after all, accustomed to the idea of girls who were slightly boyish and full of energy, always playing soccer and baseball with the boys. Just like in the Tomboy Secchi series she’d read in her previous life…
However.
“I refuse.”
“Huh? Why…?”
Chester’s face was filled with disbelief. He had been turned down again, despite the fact that someone must have bestowed some wisdom upon him since the previous afternoon—judging by the proper invitation he had issued this time, at least.
“It’s not that I’m not flattered to receive your invitation,” she told him. “However, I can’t afford to give up my free school lunch and eat out—nor do I have the money to buy unnecessary things. Plus, I already have plans for tomorrow…”
That she was flattered to receive the invitation was all that Chester needed to hear.
“I can pay for your lunch! How about next week?!”
“Unfortunately, I have plans then, as well…”
“Then how about the week after next?!”
“Unfortunately, I have plans then, as well…”
“Then how about the week after the week after next?!”
“Unfortunately, I have plans then, as well…”
“Then when the heck are you going to be free?!” Chester’s voice rose to an understandably frustrated cry.
Was she still only messing with him, despite the fact that this time, he’d said all the right things?
“Um, I work at a shop on every rest day. I don’t receive an allowance, so if I don’t work, I can’t afford ink or paper or new clothes or soap or anything .”
“Uh…”
“So that’s how it is. I can’t go hang out with anyone, no matter who they are. I’m very sorry…”
She couldn’t hang out with anyone after school either, since the dorms had a curfew. Furthermore, Adele had no intention of skipping her free dinner.
Chester sulked his way back to his own classroom.
As for Adele’s classmates, well—from the moment Chester had arrived, they had been watching with concern—not for her, but for Chester.
***
Then came the following rest day.
Adele was working the bakery counter as usual when, just after midday, a single customer entered.
“So, you’re here.”
“Um, oh. Chester… right?” Adele said.
“Do you still not remember me?!”
That customer was, in fact, Chester.
“It’s time to go hang out!” he said.
“Oh, okay. Go ahead. I’ll see you later!”
“You’re coming, too!” he said. “Do you really think I came all this way just to tell you that I’m going to hang out?!”
“Huh? Did you not?”
Chester slammed both hands on the counter. “Just come with me already!”
“But I have to mind the shop…”
“Just make that old couple over there do it!”
“No. Those two are customers—they don’t work here…”
Even Chester could see that it would be futile to try to make customers work in the shop, so he stood silently for a short while, thinking.
“All right, then. I’ll buy everything.”
“Huh?”
“I’m going to buy all the bread you have left. Then there’ll be no need for you to mind the shop, will there?”
“Wh-what are you…?”
“Smart, isn’t it?” he said.
“It’s nonsense!”
“Huh?” Chester was taken aback at Adele’s sudden rage.
“This shop is open for all the people who need bread on the rest days, but you want to leave it empty?! You’ll buy all the bread just to drag me out? What a foolish deed—and a stupid plan of action!”
“S-sorry…” Seeing Adele, whom he had always thought so cool and composed, suddenly angry, Chester was shocked and quickly apologized. It seemed that he was at least an honest boy.
“Well, how about half, then?”
“Huh?” Chester stared, unsure of what he was being asked.
“I’m saying, how about you buy just half the bread?”
“S-sure…”
Faced with Adele’s suggestion and her bright smile, Chester unthinkingly agreed.
***
“How did this happen…?”
Chester plodded back down the road to the dorm, his arms overflowing with bread and a dark cloud hanging over him. Still, perhaps it had been a small price to pay, for the privilege of seeing Adele smile at him for the first time.
The corners of his mouth lifted, just a little.
***
“Well, Grandpa, what should we do about that one?”
“I think the girlie’s got it covered.”
“Reckon so…”
The old timers in the bakery were part of an informal Secret Service who stopped by the bakery to protect Adele from bad men. Apparently, they had deemed that Chester was not a threat.
***
In the future, when Chester stopped by the Class A classroom again, Adele’s classmates were no longer concerned. They had also deemed him harmless.
Even if his attempts at flirtation were futile, it was fine if he just talked to Adele a bit, as long as he didn’t make her mad at him.
While Adele would happily chat casually with both her classmates and students from other classes, it was clear that she had no intention of taking on a boyfriend, future life partner, or even prospective business partner at this point.
Her classmates decided that Adele was simply too young to be thinking of romance, not realizing the real reason for her standoffishness. Mentally, Adele was more than eighteen years old, after all—thus, to her, all of her classmates were far too young to be recipients of her romantic interest.
This, of course, included a certain younger son of a viscount, who was vying desperately for her affections.
Though she had no interest in romantic associations with boys, if they spoke to her, she would happily converse, and would gladly hang out with them at lunch and after school. When she wasn’t hanging out with Marcela and the girls, at least.
Even while working at the shop, when boys spoke to her, she would offer them a friendly smile.
As time proceeded, the number of boys who got the wrong impression grew.
Thus, once again, the old woman at the shop muttered, “Hoo hoo hoo, you’re a wicked girl, Miss Adele…”
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