Do you mind?

Chapter 6: Do you mind? Not at all.

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Noel's P.O.V


Ah, tis the beauty of maths homework,

Looking up at me with an arrogant smirk.

Teasing, taunting, laughing, daunting,

Must you be, forever haunting?


Numbers. That's all they are, Noel. They are not taunting you. They are not ranting on about the one girl who doesn't understand much about them at all – except when she is buying a new pair of shoes, apparently.

The phone starts to ring, I reach for it, and of course it darts away from my hand and off onto the ground. By no aid of my own, of course. I swear that phone is suicidal, and I wouldn't blame it. I mean, what about all the other girls who had previously used it?

"Oh my didn't...he didn't. Oh, but he did. Really? Oh my God."

It was enough to drive anyone insane.

"Yes?" I said into the phone, irritably, after picking it from the floor.

"Hello," said a very silky feminine voice, "this would be Noel, wouldn't it?"

"No." I said bitterly, who was it this time? Another sister of the laundry girl? Perhaps her name would be 'Lollypop'? "I don't have time for you, at the moment. Whoever you are. I am not interested, OK?"

"Don't flatter yourself," the voice said, and I could just sense the eye roll, "I'm a very taken woman, and as cute as you are, little man, I'm not quite interested either. You have nothing on my man."

"Well," I said, somewhat taken aback. I mean, I have never been called little man before. Atleast, not since I was five. "What the hell do you want?"

"I can't say much for your manners – oh, Jackson, get me those ones. No, not them ones!" she sounded exasperated. "Of course there is nothing wrong with them as such – Jackson! We are not getting them, no. Just no. Do you know how horrible they will look with our carpet? JACKSON! Put the catalogue down for God's sake; leave it to me and Paulo."

"Hello? Who is Jackson?" I say, thinking she is talking about my friend Jackson. "And why on Earth are you dating him?"

Because I can just tell, even by the sound of her voice, that she is not the sort of girl who'd date Jackson in a million, trillion years. Ever.

"I'm not bloody dating him, I'm married to him!" she said, sounding even more exasperated. "No, Jackson, I am not talking about Paulo – you think I'd make a good couple with Paulo? Paulo is GAY! God you're a retard – you didn't know? Jackson, look, I am talking to my cousins little boyfriend and I can't – JACKSON GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

I heard doors slamming and she breathed into the phone with frustration, "Males. Look, Jorel, I have had it up to here with the cutesy I-don't-want-to-get-rejected act, alright?I mean, obviously Elise isn't going to go say anything to you – because you know what, you're both stubborn! Stubborn mules."

"My name is Noel," I said, flatly, "and Jor-El is Clark Kent's biological parent."

"Do you know what a mule is, Corel?" she said, ignoring my comments. "A mule is a donkey horse, the product of a donkey and a horse getting it on. You two are donkey horses."

"It's Noel." I said, kicking around a ball of paper on the floor. "My name is Noel."

"You know what? You deserve each other, really you do." She said, all sharply. "I hope you both die old, grey and alone because you never had the courage to speak up about your feelings for one another!"

I heard a door open again and she started arguing with whoever it was, claiming something about not turning into a crazy housewife. Beep. Beep. Beep. Yup, she had hung up on me.

I sighed, and looked down at my maths homework with irritation. It was all done, but I was doing the little sodoku things. I heard a rap on the door, and I turned my head with annoyance, it was either Euston or my room mate. Both people I didn't really want to deal with at the moment, especially Euston.

"Would you go away?" I said and then the door was opened and then slammed shut, both by a very annoyed looking auburn haired girl. An auburn haired girl whom, by the way, had been avoiding me. Again. So what was she doing in my room?

"No I won't go away!" she said, sounding very angry with me.

Elise stood at the door, hands on hips and breathing heavily. As if she'd ran here the whole way, a fact, which was very doubtful. Had she ran all the way here, just to see me? That'd be wishful thinking.

She was looking at me, and opening and closing her mouth every couple of seconds, obviously not knowing whether to yell, or do God knows what else. She hadn't decided.

"One would expect," I said, coolly, "that when someone barges through their door, all out of breath, that they'd have something important to say. So, do you?"

She just stared at me some more, and then said, all huffily, "No!"

Elise was lying. She knewshe was lying. The look on her face after she said it said all, but she stuck to her convictions, sticking her hands on her hips and glaring at me. "I just wanted my book back, actually. So, are you going to get it?"

Rolling my eyes, I pulled it off the table in front of me.

Faint heart never a true love knows

I looked down at the book, thinking about the stupid saying that had popped into my head. My Mum always said it when gazing at my dad, with this far off look in her eyes and a smile on her lips, it was enough to make you sick.

I held it out to her, "Well, come and get it then. If that's all you're here for, I'd much like to get back to my sodokus."

"It is." She said quickly, and then with a scowl made her way over to me. Her eyes were on mine the whole time, "Noel I –"

She let out a curse as she found herself tripping over a coke can, and then falling fast towards me. My eyes widened, as her body crash landed against mine, so did her lips.



Elise's P.O.V


Guess I couldn't help it,

I guess that's why my Mum packed a first aid kit.

I'm clumsy as the come,

And I walked in on him while he was doing sums.


I had originally gone to meet him because Loralee had phoned me up, cursing at me and yelling to her husband about carpet. She had apparently heard, from Louis no doubt, about all my troubles. She could get anything out of anyone.

She had also, somehow, got Euston's mobile number and knew that I was sitting on the floor, reading girly magazines I never read. Needless to say, she thought I was having a mental breakdown. She even threatened me with a don't make me come down there and rip those bloody tweety bird pj's right off you. Yeah, I'm so scared.

But anyway, she made me realise that I had been running away from things. A lot. And you know what? I wasn't going to run away anymore.

Until I got in there and he just looked at me, I bulked. I completely forgot everything I was supposed to be saying to him, like my feelings, and how he'd better damn well return them. And that he should buy me those really cute shoes I saw in the store the other day.

Instead I told him I wanted my book back. My book. Like it even mattered.

Well OK, it did. It did to me, but not as much as what I had originally came there for meant to me. I love Meg Cabot and all, and Nicola and the Viscount but...I love Noel even more.

So, it was just great, that instead of reaching out and grabbing the book how I planned – I came toppling over something. Another coke can.

Looking up, I had felt a tremor of terror – terror, that he might not want to kiss me. Even accidentally. Terror of actually kissing him. Terror, of his reaction.

Terror, of rejection.

And then his lips met mine.

I couldn't help but fling my arms around his neck; it was a force of habit. A habit, which I definitely wanted to start with Mr Noel Brandy. Who, by the way, pulled me into his arms and down onto his lap.

He was kissing me back. He was kissing me back in such a way that I forgot to feel embarrassed over it all, and forgot about the whole rejection factor. Besides, it didn't seem like he was about to reject me any time soon.

He flipped me over, and straddled me, he also didn't seem like he was going to take his hands away from where they shot up my shirt any time soon. Oh, wouldn't I ever have to tell the confession box about this. Noel's lips parted from mine – barely – and I could feel his gaze on me, my eyes fluttered open.

"Do you mind?" he asked me, slurring. He was drunk, drunk on passion.

"No," I said, talking pretty much the same way he was, "not at all."

And then he went and locked the door.



"You and my brother did WHAT?" Euston said, looking mortified. "Oh God, Elise. I don't even want to hear about that sort of thing, that is – that is just wrong. I don't even want to imagine my brother and you – Oh God, we're changing topics. Now."

Listening to Euston twitter on all embarrassed was definitely a highlight of my day.

"You're the one who wanted to know all the details." I said, smiling at her revulsion. She looked like my little sister when one of my brothers slipped a worm into her sandpit (she wasn't repulsed by the worm, just that, quote, "Poor wormy!").

"Yes," she said, narrowing her eyes at me, "but that doesn't mean I actually want to hear all the details. Gosh! I was only being polite!"

I laughed, but my laughter was cut short when he slid down beside me, "Do you mind?"

I moved over for him, turning all red because of what he said. Do you mind? No, I said, not at all I said. I am never going to be able to hear those words again without turning red, I know it. I looked down at the table, gazing at the baguette in silence. My face was burning.

"I thought you might be hungry," he said, gesturing to the baguette, "bacon and egg baguette sound good to you?"

He then set down a bottle of orange juice, "Or thirsty."

Euston stared at her brother. Then she looked down at the food, and then she looked at the hand Noel had settled over mine with a squeeze. "Gosh, you know what guys?" she says, still staring down at the hand and all the food incredulously, "I think I need to go pee. Tootles."

Noel shrugs, and then smiles down at me wolfishly, "Oh well, means we don't have to share –" he put this giant box of Cadbury chocolates down next to the baguette, "– these! So, how was your weekend?"

"G-good!" I stammered, looking down at the baguette for answers. It wasn't helping. "Could I really have this?"

I quote Becoming Jane.

"What, precisely?" he said, and my heart skitters.

"You." I said.

"Me, how?" he said, withholding a grin.

"This life with you." I tell him, also withholding a grin.

"Yes." he said this time grinning, and then he says all accusingly, "You flirt."

I recall another quote from the movie with a smile, "Oh, but, flirting is a woman's trade. One must certainly keep in practice."

I touched his cheek and pressed my lips to his softly, kissing him good morning. He kissed back, smiling, I pull away, "Did I do that well?"

"Very. Very well." He said, kissing me again.

We grin stupidly at each other until I am hit on the head with an apple core, "do you mind!"

"No," we say to the disgusted looking science-fiction book worm with a grin, "not at all."


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That's it. The end. No more Do You Mind. EVER.

I think the ending is entirely too mushy, I mean. I prefer the WHOLE alternative ending, you know, where Noel gets run over by a car and then Elise commits suicide off the gym roof and all the cheerleaders drop their pop-poms and squeal. But apparently people wouldn't like that, according to Elaine.

(Elise watches in horror as the funeral line of cars run over Noel. Over, and over again. She collapses to the ground in sobs, what left is there to do but jump off the gym building?)

Oh well.

You know what is really annoying? People adding my story to their favourites lists but not even reviewing! I mean, what is the pointof that? Honestly. It's like, your story is one of my favourites, but you don't like it enough to press the review button and go, "Hello, great chapter!" or oneshot, or whatever. I always review stories I read, unless I really don't like them. And I'm lazy. So no excuses, people!

LoVe SPASTIC CURLY HAIRED GIRL! (just washed it)