She was the ocean, clear and cold blue pools and the angry dark waves of a typhoon.
He was spring, two glittering drops of morning dew on fresh grass and a head of sunshine.
It was only natural for the two to fall in love with each other.
<<<>>>
“You should’ve heard Amy! I thought Chris was good at French, but she is amazing!” Mac continued to rave. Aimée tucked her head down to hide her blush as she picked at her burger. Christophe promised her that these were the best burgers in town and although she found the French fries slightly offensive, she enjoyed her meal greatly.
“So you speak fluent French?” Dawson asked, eyebrow raised. “That’s hot.” Christophe rolled his eyes, catching Aimée’s cheeks ripen.
“Excuse me,” she said. Christophe had to stand up to let her out of their booth and she made a beeline for the restroom.
“Dude, help me out here,” Dawson said, watching Aimée walk away. He glanced at Christophe, eyebrows raised in hope.
“No,” Christophe replied, swallowing his last bit of burger before moving on to the fries.
“Chris, c’mon,” Dawson began.
“You can have any girl in the school,” Christophe cut him off. “Not her.”
“But she’s different,” Dawson argued.
“Agreed,” Jett chimed in. Christophe glared at him and he raised his hands in defense. “Not in a bad way, but it’s true. She acts completely different from any girl at Creek. She’s like, super formal and stuff. Like, back straight, prim and proper, borderline prude.”
“If she’s a prude, I don’t get why all of you are so interested in her,” Christophe said, annoyed.
“Because she’s a hot prude,” Dawson said, grinning. “But seriously, it’s not just that. She pronounces everything oddly.”
“She says your name weirdly while her own name is weird,” Jett pointed out.
“And she’s freakishly good at French!” Mac said with a full mouth, spewing meat and potato bits everywhere.
“Guys, stop analyzing Aimée!” Christophe shouted. The guys exchanged glances with each other, hard as it was to get Christophe to yell.
“So now you finally get defensive over a girl?” Dawson challenged, his eyebrows raised mockingly.
Christophe’s jaw was ticking as he shook his head. “You know what, if you want to take her out, then fine. Do it. Any of you. I don’t care.”
“What did I miss?” Aimée asked, coming back to the booth just as Dawson pumped his fist in the air.
“Nothing important,” Christophe said, getting up immediately to let her sit down.
“You know what Aimée, I like you,” Jett stated casually. Aimée’s face was a pink mask once more, but inside her heart jumped in relief. She had never been liked before. To Aimée, this was a sign of acceptance that she was never given.
“Thank you Jett,” Aimée murmured gratefully and Jett winked at her blushing face.
Christophe ground his teeth together, trying not to make his growl audible.
“So, got any hot friends?” Jett continued.
Christophe choked on his drink.
Aimée’s frown slightly, patting Christophe on the back before looking at Jett. “Not really, no. I don’t have many. Friends, I mean.”
YOU ARE READING
Right At Your Door
Short Story"Nothing ever changes here." To Christophe, this is a curse. To Aimée, this is an invitation. All she knows is change. Tired of the life of travel, Aimée decides to make one final move. She would leave Paris. She would leave Europe. She would meet C...
