Makes the chase more interesting.
1) I am sorry this has taken so long. Like I said in the note I have been very busy recently but I should have tried harder to carve time out for you guys and this story. But I’m back now and I promise to update more consistently.
2) I am sorry to anyone who has been offended or is offended by something I have said or done. I have a very, very twisted sense of humour; two of my best friends are sarcasm and irony and I fully appreciate how some people might not like them very much. I never mean to upset anyone with what I say, I just say whatever comes to mind and hope for the best. That’s kind of how I live.
So, yeah. I’m 15 now (as of yesterday) and I guess I should grow up a little. Not enough to quit the fanfiction but enough to quit pissing people off. And now with that depressing shit out the way, Chapter 8!
Make him Jealous
Scouting for a would-be boyfriend turns out to be more difficult than I’d anticipated, then again I had figured it was going to be very easy. I know this sounds pretty egotistical but it’s a fact. Guys like me. I couldn’t tell you why; I don’t consider myself particularly good-looking, but there’s just something dudes seem to find attractive. I can work with that and usually get him to drop his pants if I’m in the mood.
Yes, I freely admit that I am a whore.
But the reason it is so difficult is purely because I’m so damn picky. I don’t want my faux-boyfriend to be just anyone, he has to be able to rival Gerard’s sexy self, hence the reason for its failure.
“What about Darren Matthews from our English class?” asks Cam, twiddling a pencil between her fingers.
“You kidding me? He’s got the intelligence of, like, a stick insect,” I frown. “They’ve gotta be kinda smart or it won’t be believable.”
“Sean Baker’s had a crush on you for ages.”
“Double chin,” I reply, shaking my head adamantly. “No thanks.”
“Okay then...Richie Coombes?”
I shake my head. “Terrorist.”
“It’s written all over his face,” I sigh. “That guy bombs planes.”
“Anyway, you should be working on the cheerleading article with Ray-ban, not taking your pick of the boys in our year,” Cam rebukes me. “You realise your deadline is in half an hour?”
“Well, it’s not like the editor’s gonna fire me,” I mutter under my breath.
Cam smacks me over the head, hard enough to make me wince. “I could do you know!” she says warningly. “You take me for granted. Your future employees won’t be as nice as I am.”
Like I’ll ever need a job when I’m a reigning necromancer. But because I do secretly rather fear Cam’s wrath I pull the article towards me. I’ve just finished my first sentence when a tidal wave comes crashing through the door, slaughtering my calm with its terrifying presence.
Oh wait. It’s just Bosh.
NAME: Eric Boshman to everyone but me.
OCCUPATION: Cam’s class-A MORON of a boyfriend whose soul ambition in life is to get his hands in my best friend’s bra and make me want to slit my wrists while wondering what the hell happened to human evolution.
“Whassup little duuuuude!” he greets me, grinning stupidly and raising his hand for a high 5 which I ignore on principle.
See, the thing about people like Bosh is that they are so damn full of themselves they’re convinced that even the people who hate their guts absolutely love them. In this jackass’s case, he thinks the reason that I give him the cold-shoulder is because I have a passionate gay crush on him and don’t know how to deal with it. Therefore he’s always extra nice to me and no matter how I stress to him otherwise he just assumes I’m in denial.
“For the love of God,” I groan. “Cam, will you call Manhattan Zoo? Someone must have forgotten to lock the gates again.”
“Hahaha that’s funny!” Bosh guffaws heartily and follows with a friendly punch to my shoulder. A goddamn friendly punch.
I turn to Cam, a can I kill it now? expression on my face which she ignores. “Eric, did you get those cheerleader trials printed out like I asked?”
“That I totally did,” Bosh replies, handing her a wad of photographs with a flourish. The only reason the guy is allowed anywhere near The Source is because of his kickass camera skills. Otherwise we’d have to put him in a straight jacket to stop him breaking everything. “And may I also stress the fact that although some of those lovely ladies obviously wanted a piece of The Bosh Man, mine eye did not thither stray.”
I think now would be a good time to thump my head against the table.
“Thanks babe,” Cam replies. Thunk. Thunk.
“Oh, also, I have something to tell you,” he says, scratching his head and squinting his eyes in effort to remember, looking for the world like a massive blond chimp. “I was, like, at the lunch hall ‘cos they were giving out free meat, but my meat had like, a bite taken out of. And I was all, “whoa. Not cool man. You don’t eat someone else’s meat”. So I went to Mr Nelson’s office to appeal and stuff. And there was this other dude there and I think he was all, like, foreign ‘cos you know when you get that feeling about a dude? Anyways, Mr Needs told me to bring him here.”
Cam looks confused. “So where is he?”
Bosh looks left and right as if to check that no one can hear him and then whispers “He’s outside. But I thought I’d come in to tell you dudes first so that he doesn’t get startled. He hasn’t met many Americans before.”
Losing. Thunk. The will. Thunk. To live.
“Send him in,” says Cam with a wave of her hand.
Bosh nods, opens the door and shows in “the foreign dude”, the queue for my jaw to drop. Beside me, Cam does the same. Because we are looking at a God.
Finely toned European features give a perfectly angled jaw, a tall, slim body with broad shoulders and athletically defined muscles. Thick locks of chestnut brown hair curl around the nape of his neck and fall effortlessly into deep, dark eyes, eyes that look as though they could stare into the soul, eyes that I could drown in. And his skin...so smooth and tan and soft and sexy. I glance at Cam. Knowing her as well as I do, it’s pretty easy to read her thoughts. Holy fuck, her eyes tell me. I think I just jizzed.
With an elegant, aristocratic extending of the hand, he turns to our editor and smiles, showing brilliant white teeth. “Raoul,” he purrs, voice like liquid velvet.
“That’s all he says to me too!” cries Bosh. “What does it mean?! Is it some kind of code?”
Neither of us answer. We couldn’t if we wanted to. Our brains just died. “Frank?” Bosh stammers, looking anxiously at our slack, staring faces. “Cammy-bear?”
His head snaps upwards to glare at Raoul, eyes narrowing into slits. “You put my girlfriend and Little Wankie in a foreign trance? Not cool, dude. Not cool.”
The nickname is enough to snap me out of my daze to shoot flames out of my eyes at Bosh. “Leave. Now.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him!” Bosh gestures. “He will take your soul.”
“Get out, Bosh!” snaps Cam, pointing towards the door.
Bosh lifts his arms above his head in mock-surrender. “Okay!” he says, moving out the room. “Someone needs to take a chill pill. Phil.”
At long last he removes his infuriating presence, leaving Cam and I to ogle in peace which Raoul doesn’t seem to mind until he gets bored, starts fidgeting and hands Cam a note.
“It’s from the principle,” she tells me. “Miss Kosravi, this is “Raoul Lanier, an exchange student from somewhere in France which is by the sea. I have charged you and your delinquent friend with making him feel at home in Belleville High. Show him around, give him a tour, tell him which alleyways best to avoid. And by the way, he knows absolutely no English and is unable to communicate anything but his name.”
“Well isn’t that something,” I say pleasantly. “Poor guy, so far from home and not a clue how to even speak our language! You know what, Cam? I am perfectly willing to take this guy off your hands. I know how busy you are...with Bosh...”
“Oh but you should be spending more time with Gerard,” Cam replies just as sweetly. “Remember? The love of your life?”
“Gerard can wait,” I shrug, grasping Raoul’s arm before Cam can get within reach of my eye-candy and wheeling him out the door.
“What about the 20 Ways?” Cam calls after us.
“Trust me Cam,” I grin. “They haven’t left my mind for a second!”
As soon as we are outside I whirl the foreign dude round to face me, grabbing him by his incredibly manly shoulders. “Okay here’s the thing,” I stage in a whisper. “I’m in love with this guy in my class. Like, legit. But I don’t think he’s gay and he’s also dating this total whore with pockmarks all over her face. What I need you to do is pretend to go out with me, just for a couple of days to make him jealous. And yes, I do realise you don’t understand a word I’m saying,” I add to his perplexed expression. “I’ll go find you a translator in a second. But don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything except stand there and look pretty. I have experience in the boyfriend department.”
Only one word seems to have imprinted itself in Raoul’s mind. “Boyfriend?” he repeats, his French accent almost turning me into jelly.
“Well...yeah,” I shrug. “But only for a few days, you don’t need to-”
I don’t get to finish my sentence. Because I have something in my mouth.
Oh, wow. It’s Raoul. Raoul is kissing me. Right. Okay.
What a bizarre turn of events! Seriously, if anyone had asked me how I thought things would turn out, I would not have said this. But hey, who am I to complain? My plan is working! And this guy is a very, very good kisser. He manipulates my mouth skilfully, applying gentle pressure and his hand is very thoughtfully supporting my jaw which is good seeing as he’s so tall and I’d have probably gotten whip-lash otherwise. Out of the corner of my eye I can see people halting in their tracks to gawp at us. I scan the faces and almost wriggle with glee when I spot Gerard, looking on with an unreadable expression, a feeling which evaporates quickly when I notice him holding Cynthia’s hand.
At long last he pulls back and some of the gathered crowd start to cheer and clap. I take a little bow, feeling my face burning sheepishly while Raoul just stands there, looking vaguely interested at his new surroundings.
“Wow,” Gerard grins when people finally get bored of perving and piss off to their classes. “You sure work fast.”
“I know, right?” I giggle girlishly. “Raoul, this is Gerard. Gerard this is-”
“-Raoul,” says Raoul, holding out his hand for Gerard to shake.
“Cool beans,” says Gerard. Is it just me or is his smile a little forced?
“Yeah,” I agree.
An awkward silence ensues in which I attempt to avoid Gerard’s eyes and look lovingly at my new boyfriend at the same time, a difficult feat I assure you. It is finally broken by Raoul who has taken to glancing from my face to Gerard’s, looking slightly perplexed.
“Je suis désole," he begins. "Mais je suis très embrouillé. Vous voulez pour moi être votre petit ami, oui? Pourquoi êtes-vous regarder le vampire maigre?"
Gerard and I glance at each other. He shrugs. “Oui,” I reply, grinning which does not appear to help very much.
“Gerard,” scrapes a whinging, nasal voice. “Are we going to stand round here forever?”
“If Gerard wants to stand round here forever he is perfectly within his rights to do just that!” I snarl.
“Yeah, we should probably get going,” Gerard agrees. “Are you coming round after school, Frank?”
“Sure am, honey muffin,” I reply, flashing Cynthia a grin. “I’ll make sure to bring the stuff.”
Cynthia tugs on Gerard’s arm anxiously. “What does he mean by “stuff”?” she mutters in his ear as they set off down the hall.
“Wouldn’t you like to know!” I yell after them, causing Cynthia to look increasingly worried. She doesn’t need to know I was just talking about my boxed set of Alien and a packet of Bugsly’s Extra-Extra Buttery Cinema Style Pop Corn.
“Dois-je aller à mes cours?" asks Raoul, rudely interrupting my fantasy in which I feed Gerard popcorn from my own mouth.
“What? Hm? Oh, right,” I say, suddenly remembering his existence. “Cam, would you please direct Raoul to the English block?”
Cam, who has reappeared by my side, sends me a cutting look. “You are disgusting,” she informs me. “You can’t just use a person like that to get another one! It’s beyond immoral.”
“Hey! Girls do it all the time!”
“Yes, but it’s only okay if they consent to it!”
“He did consent to it!”
“I feel I know him well enough to understand him even though our languages may differ.”
“It’s wrong, Frank,” Cam insists. “This whole thing is wrong.”
“You’ll be singing a different tune when I’m sending you links of Gerard and I making out, you homoerotic fangirl!” I retort. “Now scram! And take Allejandro with you!”
“Raoul!” says Raoul but he goes without complaint and Cam goes with him, still glaring at me from over her shoulder.
She can glare all she wants. My plan is working, soon Gerard will be mine and the Universe with it. It’s enough to make me want to skip! Unfortunately, I’ve left my bag in The Source room which is only a foot away. Can’t really skip a foot but I like to try my best.
Pushing off with my right foot I hurl myself into the office, subsequently tripping over an open filing cabinet and resulting in an embarrassing position sprawled on the floor of Cam’s office. Owch. Probably wasn’t my smartest idea. I dust my knees off, wincing at the graze when I spot something laying a few feet away. Being the curious bastard I am, I reach and grasp it with my free hand.
It’s another letter from the principle. Must have fallen down the side when Bosh came windmilling in. I scan it quickly and as I do I become aware of the spasmodic beating of my heart, the grin splitting my face and the yelp of pure excitement and glee escaping from my throat.
A few words have jumped out at me from the page, words reading Belleville High School newspaper team, modelling contract and Milan catwalk. Words that I can only take to mean one thing.
I’m fucking going to Italy!
Yes you fucking are. And what shall happen in Italy? That, my dears, you shall find out next week! Thank you for reading and reviewing guys, you have no idea how much it means.
Oh, and I also apologise for my shitty French. This counted as my revision, see.