Tipping The Scale {BoyxBoy}

Chapter 5

When I woke up it was dark outside. I was asleep for quite a while.

"Jeremy!" My father called in his thick French accent. He makes my name sound so...erotic. No, not in the perverted way, I mean like it's some sort of foreign name instead of just the plain old boring English version.

"Oui, Papa?!" I called back from my room. I'm too lazy to get up and actually go downstairs just to see what he wants but he is used to it.

"Venez ici, s'il vous plait!" he shouted

"Pourquoi?" I whined. I groaned standing up to go and see what he wants. You know one would assume that since the rise of technology parents would just text us to tell us what they want; but not parents, they need us to come all the way downstairs.

"Pourquoi? Etes-vous fou? Vous me demandez pourquoi je vous appelle? Les enfants de nos jours!" He reprimanded.

"Je suis vraiment désolé, papa, mais je suis un peu fatigué et j'ai un mal de tête donc je ne peux pas marcher autour d'un l--" I answered coming down the stairs but stopping mid-setence when i saw the one and only Matt Pavarotti standing right next to my father. My eyes widened at the pair.

"Pour quoi est-il ici?" i asked my father crossing my arms over my chest.

"Il est ton ami, non?" he asked confused. Matt just stood there looking confused and with a tight smile on his face. I take it he doesn't speak/understand French.

"Non" I stated simply. "What do you want, Pavarotti?" I growled at Matt

"Jeremy. Soyez politiques" my father reprimanded again.

"I just came to talk to you, Tubby" Matt answered in an innocent voice. Ugh please, first at school now in my own house. What is this guy a stalker? How the hell did he get my address?

"Ai, Por amor de dios!" I exasperated

"Jeremy!" My father yelled

"Sorry, papa" I apologized; he nodded and walked a way. "Outside" I said to Matt while walking towards the door. He followed me silently. As soon as the door closed I turned to him and eyed him suspiciously.

"You are either dumb or deaf, or maybe both. I thought you and your lap dog got the hint. I don't want to talk to you, Pavarotti" I said in a bored tone.

"I am neither of those and like I said I want to talk to you." He answered shrugging.

"What do you want?"

"Well..." he hesitated.

"Do you think I have all night? I have better things to do than stand here and listen to you, so start talking and you better make it fast because I have low tolerance levels for people like you." I snapped at him. He stared at me with widened eyes in disbelief. I don't think anyone has ever spoken to him like that before. Yeah, well he should get used to it. I'm rude, sarcastic and straight forward and I'm not his fan.

"I just want to be your friend, Tubby" he sighed.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, Pavarotti, like I'm going to believe that."

"It's true, Tubby."

"Look, I know that's not true, okay. You just want a free pass to the next invite-only college party so that you can increase your popularity and ego. But unfortunately for you, I'm not going to fall for your pathetic attempts. It's happened to many times before. Now, if you would excuse me I—"

"Why do you hate me so much?" he asked, interrupting me. He had his hands crossed over his chest, eyebrows creased and a frown set on his face.

"Hate, is a strong word. But I will admit; I really really really don't like you or any jocks for that matter. You are so pompous, conceited, vain, intolerable and quite frankly stupid. I'm sorry to tell you but, I don't and probably won't ever like you" I stated simply and shrugged my shoulders.