Foreign Love

VII - 'Easy, mate'

Chapter seven: "Easy, mate"

We were in Arts class, the only one that all the girls and Andrew and I share in common. Mrs. Crawford was teaching us about medieval art and architecture — or trying to. I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying and neither were the girls or Andrew. Me, personally, I already knew all of that. As for them, I guess we were more interested in Elena telling us about her weekend.

"And the worst was when I caught my dad in bed with her!" Elena said, evoking surprised reactions from all of us.

"Ew!" Mabel exclaimed. "How are you living with that image in your head?"

"I'm actually sad to know my father has a more active sex life than me," she said, making us all laugh.

"Mr. Carter!" Shouted Mrs. Crawford. Out of the four souls who were talking, why did she choose me? I faced her.

"Yes, Mrs. Crawford?" I asked, keeping a straight face, good enough to mask my nervousness.

"Since you were talking to your classmates, I believe you already know everything I'm saying." As a matter of fact, I do. "What is the florid style of the Gothic architecture?" Just that? I thought she was going hard on the questions.

"It's the Flamboyant Gothic, that originated in France during the XIV century and can be seen in the façade of Sainte Chapelle de Vincennes, the Cathedral of Tours and, in a more Italian way, in the Cathedral of Milano, as well. It comes, of course, from the French word flamboyant, which means flaming, which makes sense if you think about how detailed were the spires, doors and arches, strongly resembling real flames, but, of course, made of stone," I answered, proud of my knowledge. I wanted to show her that it was not because I didn't care about her classes that I didn't know what she was talking about. And I guess I did a pretty good job.

"Um." She turned back to the board. I'll take that as a Very good.

We could've kept talking, but this time we decided to remain silent for the rest of her class. Twenty minutes before the bell rang, she turned to us, after writing the names of some medieval styles on the board. She's going to ask for an essay, I'm certain.

"So, guys. The next evaluation of our semester will be an essay to be delivered next week, about one of the topics I wrote on the board. Make pairs and tell me the topics you've chosen." I turned to Mabel, who winked at me.

This is how it works when we have to do school stuff in pairs: Mylène goes with Elena and I go with Mabel; and this time would have been no different, had Mrs. Crawford not stood between us.

"Mr. Carter," she called. What is she going to do now? "I want you to step out of your comfort zone. This time, I'll choose your pair." Fuck me. Her eyes scanned the whole classroom and I couldn't see where they'd stopped, but I'd find out sooner or later, anyway. "Andrew! He seems to be by himself. Do it with him."

I don't believe she noticed how happy she made me, and that's probably for the better: I'll just pretend I felt miserable about her choice and she'll be content with that. That's the price I pay for knowing the subject without paying attention. So not fair.

"Which topic do you want, mate?" He asked, pulling his chair to sit by my side. And there was the lavender smell once again making me go craz.

"Honestly, everything's fine to me."

"Gothic, then? I have an old paper about it from my last school that could help us. And you clearly know a thing or two," he said, smiling at me.

My eyes darted to his lips for a moment to catch that gorgeous smile and I got lost in my sight for a moment. He was wearing a light blue, short-sleeved polo T-shirt that highlit his arms and eyes and it was one of those sights that made me feel things I had only dreamed of before. Why lie? Andrew had a hold on me and there was nothing I could do about it.