The Bodyguard ✔

Chapter Two

Today is the 29th of November, a friday. Family Duchoix will come over at six p.m. to have dinner. They live in the same street, but that doesn't mean they automatically live close. Our street is one and a half km long you see, and we live at the dead end.

François Duchoix is an old business partner of my dad's. He and his wife still send us a christmas card every year, although we don't see each other that often. They have one son, Lucas, who is one year older than me. I can still remember us playing in the empty meeting rooms, while our fathers were discussing business plans. But unfortunately, we grew apart these previous years. He went to boarding school and I barely saw him when he was home. I'm not sure if he will join his parents tonight when they come.

I walk down the staircase and go right. I pass the white bow, supported by two columns, and enter my most favorite part of the house. Bookcases reach the high ceiling and in the middle of the room stands my one and only love. My piano is black and faces the window. Furthermore the room is filled with a couple of dark couches and a writing desk. Their color match beautifully with the red walls. Completely in the back, you can find the dining table, where we will eat dinner later.

I go sit at the windowsill. The trees are bald and all the leaves have disappeared. How sad everything looks.

I'm not fond of wearing dresses, nor skirts. Preferably, I wear pants everyday. But because of occasions like these, I do own a couple of emergency dresses. I pick out a simple black dress. You can never go wrong with a black dress, right? I brush my hair and put on some mascara.

My bedroom is big enough for a double bed. You can find it on your right, when you enter the room. My bed faces a big window, around three meters away. My bedroom marks the right end of the house, which is completely build in a somewhat classical style.

Someone knocks on my door.

"Ella, are you ready?"

My dad's head appears from behind my white door. I look at myself in the mirror, thinking I look okay.

"I'll be there in a minute."

As I am walking down the stairs, I try to recall Lucas when I've last seen him. I remember him best when he was just a boy, around ten years old. He had beautiful blond hair; I always envied him for that. I, on the other hand, had lost my blond hair from when I was little. It has grown darker every year and resulted to a light shade of ash brown in its seventeenth year.

But the guy I see standing at my door, looks nothing like the cute little boy I barely remember. The only thing Lucas heired from his younger years, is his glorious hair color. He grew up to be a tall and handsome young man. He has an athletic posture, but not too exaggerated. I see him smiling to my dad while shaking his hand, not noticing me watching him. He smiles like there is no evil in this world and his eyes speak purity and innocence. Those sweet characteristics contrast with his handsome jawline and Greek-looking nose. He is simply irresistible.

I get sucked back into reality when my dad beckons me. Every face in the room turns and looks at me: my dad's, Mr. and Mrs. Duchoix's and his. I feel embarrassed just standing here and observing a certain person, so I somewhat awkwardly frolic downstairs, while trying to hide the blushes on my cheeks.

"Giselle, you remember the Duchoix, right?" My dad asks.

"Yeah dad, Mrs. Duchoix made us that delicious pie last year for christmas. How could I've forgotten?" She is a very sweet and beautiful woman, I've always liked her. Her husband is ten years older than she is, but he is a very nice man. I guess they're kind of a perfect family.

After I shook hands with them, my dad continues: "And this is Lucas. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

I try to shake his hand with the same confidence as I did with his parents, but I suspect it turned out pretty weak. He smiles anyway.

"It has been a while, indeed, but tomato-buddies never grow apart, right?"
For a moment, I was completely baffled, trying to make out what the hell he just said and what it should mean. Then it all comes back to me.