Nobody Told Me That I Would Be Learning To French Kiss HIM in French Class! [`o7]

School already started and rumors were already flying everywhere about me after the fifth month I studied there. I 'disappeared' for more than a month before that because of something I had to unfortunately deal with. But with the police cars in front of my house and the media who wouldn't shut the hell up, people tend to make up rumors about something along the lines of murder or rape or kidnappings.

In my case, it was the latter part.

I didn't deny it either because in some ways, it was true. In some ways.

The students didn't talk about it as much as before, though the stories became more outrageous every time I overheard them. Some even said that I got tortured by my kidnapper using the method of tickling me with a soft feather.

The idea of being tickled was actually torture. I was an insanely ticklish person. I could pee myself laughing with the slightest touch.

Moving on...

"I think you should go," I told him as polite as I could. But it sounded as if I was kicking him out of the house anyway. His eyes gazed straight into mine as I stared at him blankly.

"Fine. I'll see you in class."

The next day was odd but familiar. A group of boys my age were snickering. I recognized one of them though. The jock, Joshua whats-his-face. Belinda had a crush on him since forever, along with more than half of the girls here. I didn't know why though.

Sure, he's attractive. But I've seen better.

I set down my books down on the table and shoot Belinda a look. She didn't seem that cheerful today, but then again everyone had bad days right? I gave her a nod and a small smile, but she didn't reply as friendly as I thought she would.

I frowned. What was going on?

The door opened and walked in Matthew and one of his friends, Lucas Abraham. Lucas was a tall guy with cinnamon skin and a pair of beautiful brown eyes. He - like Joshua - was someone who was well-known in school for scoring some major trophies for the school due to his skill and talents in football.

I couldn't even remember the last time I participated for a school's competition, except for that English poem thing which I failed to get any place for myself.

Matt scratched his head and surreptitiously looked towards Belinda. The two friends exchanged some more words before taking their seats. I leaned backwards when Matt tapped my shoulder. I felt his warm breath against my ear when he told me something I really didn't want to hear.

I turned around. "She won't do that," I told him incredulously. "Belinda's not a...a slut," I hissed. "Those are rumors!"

I paused and shot him a look. "You don't seriously believe in it do you? Rumors?"

He rolled his eyes. "Could we just forget about yesterday? I don't know her well enough to say anything anyway," said Matthew, crossing his arms.

"She's a flirt, sure," I told him. "But she told me that she won't do something like that, not unless she found the one."

"What if Josh is?"

"Him?" I snorted. "To be honest I think he's a stuck-up. I can't see why Belinda would have...that with him."

"It's called 'sex', you know. I agree with you though, about the stuck-up part."

Before I could say any more, he nodded towards the doorway and I instantly turned around. Just in time for Mr. Curtis to walk in with his goofy tie, greeting us in his usual fluent French.

I made a mental note to talk to Belinda after this.

Matthew played with a strand of my hair again to piss me off, but I couldn't care less. We submitted our projects and that was probably the last time I was going to see him coming into my household ever again.

Which was good.

I grimaced. But it didn't felt that way.

"Matt, I swear to god!" I whispered angrily under my breath when Mr. Curtis turned away. He chuckled lightly. "I should make this a hobby of mine," he replied.