Nobody Told Me That I Would Be Learning To French Kiss HIM in French Class! [`15]

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Thanks for still sticking with this story guys, even though the updates are painstakingly slow~! You guys are the awesomest readers anyone could ask for :D It's school break so I think I can finish the story within this three weeks time and make a new one if I'm up to it (I'm going to tackle Fantasy writing [insert evil laughter here])

All in all, I hope you'll enjoy :)

"Just ignore it," he told me and I nearly gaped at him.

"But Matt," I said, my cheeks sore from all that laughing. It was a nice feeling though. I hope I didn't sound too sadistic. "You have shit on your arm."

"It's washable. It's not acid."

Fuck. I couldn't get out of this one can I?

"You're so disgusting," I chuckled. He rolled his eyes and got up, extending his arm towards me...in what supposed to be a gentlemanly gesture I guess. I just stared at the bird dropping on his arm and made a face.

"No, thanks. I can get up on my own."

He snorted with laughter as we both walked inside the house, where delicious aromas greeted us...and made my stomach thrash around as if to say I should walk faster and swallow the entire plate. As usual, the boys were fighting.

"Let me walk you home," Matt said, taking out a black coat. Cole burst out laughing.

"Are you sure you want to let him do so, cookie?" Cole said teasingly. He had been calling me 'cookie' ever since I got excited over dessert. In my defence, Mrs. Zachary's cooking were so magnificent that I thought the dessert would send me to heaven.

And it did. I helped her wash the dishes afterwards and cleaned the kitchen, even though she insisted me to stay with Matt and the rest of the boys, but she looked so exhausted it felt as if it would be a crime just sitting here knowing that she was working hard all by herself.

"I trust him," I said, rather absent-mindedly. I knew Cole was joking anyway.

I couldn't remember our family being...well, a family. The gatherings, the dinners. Being in the Zachary's household that night was a bit overwhelming for me. And it was surprising how much someone could be so warm and friendly towards some friend of her son's whom she just met.

Or maybe Matt just sucked at French that much.

I felt Matt's hand grabbed hold of mine, and he stuck out his tongue at Cole, screamed, "BYE!" at no one in particular and dragged me away.

"Stop dragging me," I whined. "I'm not your handbag."

"No...but you're my puppy," he joked and I hit his arm playfully, releasing my hand from his instantly as he chuckled. "Tonight was fun, though," he said in a whisper, looking up at the stars that were shining above us.

"Oh? I thought you hated it," I said, my eyes wide.

Matt gave me a shy smile and shrugged casually. "My brothers can be pretty annoying and crazy sometimes...well, most of the times actually. But to be honest, things can be pretty quiet with them not around the house."

"I could relate."

Jason was a guitar-maniac. Heck, he played the damn thing every time I tried to study. If there was some sort of a guitar-addiction-disorder or something, he would have said disorder. He once told me that if his guitar transformed into a girl he would 'make sweet, sweet love' with it.

My brother was weird that way.

"Jason used to play his guitar all the time. When my parents were actually at home, they would scold him so many times and take his guitar away. My mom even threatened to feed his guitars to the sharks once. However that was possible."

Matt smiled. "He's the one who taught me how to play the guitar. My friend told me if there's anyone who could teach me, the slow-ass-learner in anything musical, it was Jason. I didn't want to at first. But they forced me to. That's how I became friends with your brother, I guess."

We walked further into the night in silence before he spoke again.

"What happened to him anyway? Seriously you've gotta tell me."

"I like leaving you in suspense," I told him, winking. But he just continued to stare at me with a blank expression. I finally sighed and looked up.

But the sight that greeted me wasn't comforting.

There was my house, and I swear that looked like a cop's vehicle.