The Fiche List

Chapter Twelve

So this is the really short bit that will finally finish the bucket list items stated in Chapter 10. So technically, chapter 11 and 12 are still part of chapter 10. I know, I know. It's soooo long as a whole, but whatever =) Hope you guys are liking it! Please vote and comment, I seriously throw a spontaneous mini dance party when I see the reads/votes go up! XD

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   It was around lunchtime that we blew up the inflatable paddle pool and filled it, emptying an armful of red jelly packets under the hose. 

"I feel like we should be singing some he-man song and beating our chests and doing a grunting tribal dance—" we all gave Lea funny looks— "because I feel like vikings with a massive cauldron of blood. Look at us! Just hand me my goblet of blood Olgag of Meath!" 

We burst out laughing.  

"Olgag of Meath?" Sean spluttered out between fits of laughter. "Olgag of Meath?! Where do you come up with this stuff?"

She tried to keep a stern face, but couldn't help the corners of her lips turning up anyway. She shrugged. "Sounds Viking-ish doesn't it?"

"Mon dieu..." I muttered. 

"What?"
"My god."

Lea's brow furrowed. "That's not what you said." I gave her a look. "Oh." She smiled and cocked her head slightly."So you've started then?"

"Yeah... just a little."

"Um, what?" Sean interjected. "Why do you two always have to have these conversations without actually having conversations? It makes it extraordinarily hard to eavesdrop. It's totally not okay."

Lea and I rolled our eyes. 

"Maybe that's the whole point?" I stated.

He wrinkled his nose at me. 

"French." Sean glanced at his girlfriend. "She spoke French, meaning she's started learning French for when we do a convo in French later this year. Because that was on the List. You know, the paper above Fiche's bed covered with items we're—"

"Okay, okay! Sheesh woman."

She just raised an eyebrow. 

"French huh?" Tristan asked me as the two of them started doing their couple thing. 

"Mmhm. Je voudrais parler français avec mes amis."

"Oo, très bon."

"You speak French?"
"Un peu. A little. Did it in high school."
I smiled. "Doing it via a free online language site."

He made an exaggeratedly impressed face. I giggled. "So you're devoted?"
"Uh, not exactly..."

He grinned then. 

"Hey guys? Hate to interrupt your little couples' party, but did you guys become slaughterers in the short time between me messing up your toilet- sorry Sean- and coming back out here?" Jase joked as he stared at our pool of jelly blood. 

Couple's party? As in plural? As in... I quickly moved to my brother's side to subtly put heaps of distance between me and Tristan, simmering with frustration. 

"Yeah, we already buried the carcass..." Sean drawled. 

"But shaved off some meat to use later for sandwiches," Lea added. 

"Because we're just that Erudite."

"Did you just reference Divergent?" Tristan asked.

Sean threw his hands up as Lea and I immediately started defending one of our favourite movies. "They're obsessed; they've made me watch it so many times it's hard not to just pick up the lingo," he mouthed over the tops of our yapping heads.

"I like the movie, so calm down!" Tristan told us exasperatedly. We instantly stopped mid-sentences and grinned happily. "Yeah, ok, now you're freaking me out. Don't do that."

"They do it all the time," Sean sighed. 

"I'm beginning to see that."
"So the blood's all ready. Who's ready to taste my heart?" Jase announced loudly as he turned off the hose and let it dribble out onto the grass. 

"Dude, what?"

"My heart. You know. Because you stole my heart right here and I bled all out because I'm nothing without you, darling," he drawled as he swept me up into his arms. "But you can easily rectify my situation."
"Oh yeah? How?" 

He smirked. "Like this." And with that he tossed me into his lifeblood fully clothed. 

I gasped for air when I resurfaced to the four of them pissing themselves laughing, then surged towards my brother full of righteous indignation and pulled him in after me. His mouth was open and filled with the weak jelly, which he then sprayed at my face: launching a massive water fight/wrestle/cat-fight affair. It only grew bigger when the other three jumped in as well. 

Cue head dunking, laughter, intense splashing, the stupid grins we wore in victory, and everything a bunch of mad, crazy, drunk-off-laughter eighteen and nineteen year olds would do when there's so much splashing there's more airborne water than there was water actually slopping around in the pool. 

And Tristan definitely wasn't aiming all his attacks on me.   

Definitely not.