Seventh

France, mid-autumn.

Amélie (26) and Claire (16) have been dating for four weeks. In public they're affectionate - hands brushing, shoulders close, the occasional stolen kiss; in private they have sex.

Amélie has fair skin, a sharp black bob, striking yellow eyes. Today she wears a fitted black turtleneck, blue jeans, and black ankle boots.

Claire has fair skin, brown hair tied into twintails, clear blue eyes. Her navy school cardigan hangs half-unbuttoned over a white blouse, paired with a pleated skirt and white sneakers. A school bag still hangs from one shoulder.

* * *

(Late afternoon. The two of them walk side by side on a small street, shoulders almost brushing.)

Claire: (firmly) ...Amélie. Answer me. Are you grooming me?

(Amélie doesn't flinch. She slows her pace, then stops altogether, turning to face the younger girl fully.)

Amélie: Well... you can say that. It's hard to deny at this point...

(beat)

So, are you going to leave me now? Maybe even give me away?

Claire: (looking straight at her) No. Neither.

Amélie: (tilting her head, studying her) Why not? Isn't grooming minors generally seen as a rather bad thing to do?

Claire: Yeah, I know. It's bad.

(quiet exhale)

But I don't see you as bad.

Amélie: (small, almost surprised smile) Pleased to hear that.

Claire: I just... needed to hear your honest answer. Out loud.

Amélie: And I gave it. Honestly.

(she steps a little closer, voice softening)

I'm careful with you. Gentle. Yes... But I do influence you. Intentionally. What are you going to do about it?

Claire: (shrugs) I'll leave it as is. I like it. And I trust you.

Amélie: Thank you. I'll try to keep meeting your expectations, then. Just... don't forget our dynamic isn't totally serious. Or long-term.

Claire: I remember.

Amélie: (tilting her head again) Answer me what that means, then.

Claire: (without hesitation) That our affair won't last forever. And that either of us can stop it whenever one of us wants to. No guilt trips. No begging.

Amélie: (soft smile) Correct. Good girl. Let's make the most of our time, shall we?

Claire: (small smile back) Sure.

Amélie: Splendid. Café first, then my place?

Claire: Yeah. That works.

(quickly pulls out her phone)

Just let me text my mom so she doesn't worry.

Amélie: Sure thing. Take your time.

(Claire taps quickly, the same generic sentence she's used before: "Staying out with friends after school, back by 8. Love you.")

Claire: (pocketing the phone) Done. I'm yours for a few hours.

Amélie: (quiet chuckle) My thoughts exactly. Come on, then.

(Inside the café 10 minutes after. They wait for their order to arrive.)

Amélie: How was school today?

Claire: Fine. Ordinary. Math test I probably passed, Rose was dramatic about her breakup again...

(beat)

Sorry for... hitting you with that question out of nowhere earlier. And thank you. For being honest.

Amélie: Don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did it.

(leans forward slightly)

You showed me you're not just a naïve little lamb following shiny things. That puts me at ease about your future.

Claire: (blinks) Really?

Amélie: Yes. What you did today was mature. You saw something that felt off, you named it, you confronted it. You can recognize other people's intentions now - and you can stand up for yourself. Keep doing that.

And as for honesty... don't mention it. Lying to you would be inconvenient. It's not in my interest.

Claire: (quiet) You could've lied, though. Right?

Amélie: (small, dry chuckle) Of course.

(leans back, casual but eyes sharp) I could've said something like...

"Wow. What a heavy word to throw at someone who's only ever been nice to you. I thought we were friends. You wanted this. You said yes every single step, remember?"

Or maybe - "Are you serious right now? I make you feel safe, special - you beg me for attention - and now you accuse me of something so ugly?"

Or the classic - "Hey, don't be ridiculous. You're not a little child. How could I possibly groom you? We're just two people who like each other."

(expression turns smug) Ah~ that face you're making right now...

Claire: (winces, cheeks coloring) Ugh. Those lines make me cringe just hearing them.

Amélie: (soft laugh) And yet plenty of people would fall for them. But any of those responses would've damaged your trust in me. Irreparably. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. So I didn't use them.

Claire: You know, I'm not sure I would've recognized it if you had said something like that. In the moment.

Amélie: (nodding) Probably not. But now you've heard the script out loud. Next time someone feeds you one of those lines - or something close - you'll feel the dissonance. That little alarm in your gut. Consider it a free lesson.

(The waiter brings their food.)

Amélie: Bon Appetit.

Claire: Thanks. You too.

(A minute of comfortable quiet passes, then Claire looks up again.)

Claire: Wait. Isn't teaching me about manipulation... also a form of manipulation?

(Amélie stops mid-bite and bursts into genuine, surprised laughter.)

Amélie: (still laughing softly) Clever girl.

Claire: (smirking just a little) Heh.

And before you ask - yes. I'm still staying.

(Amélie reaches across the table, and takes Claire's hand - thumb stroking slowly over her knuckles.)

Amélie: (soft, sincere) You're wonderful.

(Claire squeezes back once, then lets go to pick up her fork again.)

* * *

(After the cafe, Amélie's place. Two naked bodies lie side by side on the bed, skin still flushed and slightly damp. Claire is on her back, one arm flung over her eyes; Amélie is propped on an elbow, tracing idle patterns on Claire's stomach with a fingertip and watching her.)

Claire: (quiet, after a long silence) How many times have you done this?

Amélie: Done what, exactly? Sex?

Claire: Not just sex.

(beat)

Sex with girls like me.

Amélie: (small hum) I could answer. But first - why are you asking right now?

Claire: Because it's too smooth. Too fast.

We met barely a month ago and I'm already letting you fuck me.

Amélie: (soft exhale through nose) True.

Claire: The way you talk to me. The way you touch me. Even the way you back off the second I hesitate. You've done all of this before, haven't you?

Amélie: (faint chuckle) Can't exactly hide the experience, can I? But don't start getting jealous over my body count.

Claire: (sigh, arm sliding off her face so she can look at the ceiling) Stop dodging.

How many girls have you seduced?

Amélie: (after a tiny pause) Alright. Seven. Over the last two years.

Claire: (blinks) Woah.

(quick breath)

Um, including me?

Amélie: Including you, yes. Seventh.

Claire: H-huh... okay. Fuck... Let me process that.

(She stares upward, lips moving silently for a second.)

Claire: So, like... one every three-four months on average?

Amélie: (small nod, voice neutral) Sounds about right.

Claire: All around my age?

Amélie: Mostly sixteen to seventeen. One was fifteen. One had just turned eighteen.

Claire: And... did they all end the same way?

Amélie: More or less.

Two of them met someone their own age and left. Two drifted because school got intense or parents started asking questions. One got... too attached. It stopped being light for either of us, so I eased out... One hated me and cut all ties.

The last two still text sometimes. Friendly. Nostalgic.

Claire: I see... Do you remember all their names?

Amélie: Yes.

Claire: Do you ever think about them when you're with me?

Amélie: Sometimes a gesture or a sentence reminds me of someone. But not in a "I wish she was here instead" way. More like... deja vu of how bodies move when they're nervous-excited the same way.

Claire: (tiny frown) That's weirdly poetic and also annoying.

Amélie: (soft laugh under her breath) Sorry.

Claire: (after a beat, quieter) Am I your favorite so far?

Amélie: (dry, immediate) You're asking me that naked in my bed, forty minutes after I called you wonderful. Which answer are you actually fishing for?

Claire: (small smirk tugging at her mouth) The truthful one.

Amélie: (meeting her eyes, voice dropping) Then yes.

Currently.

And by a noticeable margin.

(Claire exhales through her nose, almost a laugh. She turns her head to look at Amélie - searching, but not upset.)

Claire: (soft) Good enough.

(Amélie leans down slowly, presses a single unhurried kiss to the corner of Claire's mouth, then settles back beside her. Neither speaks for a while. Claire shifts, stretches like a cat, then props herself up on one elbow-mirroring Amélie's earlier position. She studies the older woman's face.)

Claire: You know what's fucked up?

Amélie: (raising an eyebrow) Enlighten me.

Claire: I'm lying here thinking... seven girls. And I still feel special.

That's the grooming doing its job, right?

Amélie: (soft snort) Probably.

(She reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind Claire's ear.)

Amélie: But feeling special isn't always a lie. Sometimes it's just true for a season.

Claire: Poetic again. You're insufferable.

Amélie: And yet.

(Claire leans down, kisses her - slow at first, then deeper. She is smirking when she pulls back.)

Claire: Shower? I'm sticky.

Amélie: (raising a brow, already moving) You say that like it's my fault.

Claire: (following, mock-offended) It literally is your fault.

Amélie: (over her shoulder, small laugh) Then I accept full responsibility... and I'll make it up to you under the hot water.

Fair?