Forget Me Not || HIATUS

Chapter 7 - Girls

Lola

For the past few days, my brother has been obsessing over his boyfriend. Always inviting him over, endlessly talking about how he's so amazing and how he treats him so well. I've never talked to him for more than a quick minute, but I hope he's the right person for my younger brother. He deserves all the love and happiness in the world.

I haven't met my "special someone" yet, and that's perfectly fine. I'm in no rush to find love, because I know that a teenage romance can cause more problems than solve them. And I'm not looking for a more turbulent life than the one I already lead.

My class this year is alright, it's filled with the "popular" group. Basically very arrogant little shits who will end up doing nothing of interest in their lives. Coincidently, they're the group Chade frequents, my brother's new best friend apparently. I've seen them hang out all the time at school, it seems he spends more time with this stranger than his own boyfriend.

Even though he's my brother, his relationships -- as questionable as they may be -- are none of my business. If I notice him showing any signs of unhappiness, I will slap someone, but for now he looks happy.

All these sad, sappy thoughts are starting to make me gag, not the best thing when you're late. I shovelled the last spoonful of cereal down my throat and rushed up the stairs to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth as fast as humanely possible and ran out the door to my bus stop. Tristan had saved a seat beside him on the school bus, he moved his bag over and stared at me. I frowned at him.

"Quoi?" I asked rather aggressively. "J'ai une tache?" What? Do I have a stain?

"Ouais, sur le coin gauche de ta bouche. Non, mais l'autre gauche couillonne!" He sighed and guided my finger towards a little patch of toothpaste residue. Yeah, on the left corner of your mouth. No, the other left dummy!

"Mais que je suis pas douée moi." He rolled his eyes and nodded, in a very sassy and queer way. I'm so clumsy.

He came out to me after four months into his relationship with Sushan. I connected the dots and knew that they were together pretty much immediately. You don't need to be a crime investigator to figure it out, you simply require a mere ounce of logic.

I haven't come out to him yet. I know he'll accept me, but I still can't find the courage to do it.

I can't find the courage to tell him that girls make my heart beat in peculiar ways, that I want to kiss them, to hold them, to adore them. If there was a church to honour women, I'd be on my knees everyday, happily worshipping the gorgeous women of the world.

Silence settled between us as the bus rolled up to the front gates of the Lycée International de Londres, Winston Churchill. A very prestigious bilingual school for native and non-native French speakers alike. Most of the kids here were born to stinking rich parents. No one here is that interesting, hence why I spend most of my time alone, in the library with a good book.

I descended the bus steps, limping slightly. I tore a muscle on Friday during P-E, which is taking me more days to recover than I would've liked. People stare at me more since my once confident, get-out-of-my-way-you-dickhead stride is replaced by a slow and timid hobble. Everyone is intimidated by me and tend to leave me be, which is perfectly fine by me.

I don't want to talk to anyone anyway.

Tristan split off from me to join his new friend, his boyfriend seemingly absent. I sighed and headed for the school entrance, keeping my head held high.