Still in the most uncomfortable and awkward situation ever

Date? Guillaume Besson asking me out for a date? This has to be a joke. Seriously. What is it with me and boys these days? I'm paranoid because Paul is suddenly everywhere, Guillaume – as of the last time I checked – hated me but is now asking me on a date, and Daniel, the only one I ever really wanted to go out on a date with doesn't even look twice at me.


Oh. Oh right. I was so spaced out that I forgot Guillaume was waiting for an answer. I don't even know if he expected one. Off the top of my head, I figured it was one of his evil pranks.

"You're joking, right?" I said sourly, narrowing my eyes at him. His face was as aloof as can be, but his eyes are telling me different. I think its nerves because he knows I can see past his lie.

He looked confused. "Joking? How is this a joke? Aren't jokes supposed to be funny? With... how you say... punch line?"

"Oh don't dazzle me with your French accent and feign ignorance," I snapped. "But you're right, this is definitely not funny so shove off."

I proceeded to walk off, but being the annoying person he was, he just followed me.

"I dazzle you, eh?" I can practically see the smirk plastered on his face, regardless if I couldn't see him.

"Shut up."

Nice comeback, Nicola, I told myself pathetically.

"Seriously though, are you free tomorrow?"

"For you?" I scoffed. "Definitely not."

"Are you sure? Because a friend of mine told me about this lovely Thai cuisine in Knightsbridge that I haven't particularly tried but—"

"Nic! There you are!" a scarily familiar voice cut through Guillaume's ramblings, a voice I recognised as Paul's. Merde.

I close my eyes and breathed in deeply before greeting Paul with a weak smile. "Hey Paul, how's it going?" I asked, plastering on the best un-fake-but-really-fake smile I had.

"I haven't seen you in forever!" he said enthusiastically. The upbeat voice rang through my ears and I mentally cringed.

'I saw you last night!' I wanted to say, but my manners contradicted my tongue. "Yeah," I mumbled.

"So how about we do something tomorrow?" he asked. His voice was still hyper like he downed an entire bottle of cough medicine.

"Erm," I said, scrunching my eyebrows in frustration. 'How about no?' didn't really sound right.

The next thing I knew, an arm slung over my shoulders and in his most arrogant (but unbelievably divine) accent, Guillaume answered for me. "We have plans tomorrow. Désolé."

Paul looked up (Guillaume was a few inches taller than him), surprised that we had company. His eyes bugged when he saw that it was Guillaume. I knew Paul was a huge football fan, so seeing Guillaume was like me seeing Daniel Radcliffe in person.

"Oh." He said, looking at me and Guillaume, understanding dawned on him. "Of course. I'll see you around then, Nic. You too, Guillaume." He waved a hand weakly at our direction and walked off.

I gaped at his retreating back until he was gone and it was only me and Guillaume left in the corridor. "What the hell?" I yelled once I finally got my speech back. I punched his stomach as hard as I could with my fist and quickly howled in pain as the impact reverberated through my hand. "Owww!" I cried out, holding my fist tightly. Stupid French boy didn't even feel a thing. He just stood there, looking at me, confusion written all over his face.

"You're angry?"

I glared at him. "You think?" I said sarcastically.

He frowned, took my hand and studied it for a while. It was light pink but I'll live. "Not much harm done. I don't understand why you're so angry though. I thought you were hiding from him. I did you a favour."

"A favour?" I practically screeched. "I went out with him yesterday and now he thinks I'm going out with you. Not only does that make me look heartless, but you didn't have to spring it in that way to him. You know how much it hurts to be rejected? I'm sure you don't know the feeling because you're hot and oozing sex appeal and have women throwing themselves at you on a daily basis. You wouldn't know the feeling of hurt –"

"It hurts to be led on," he stated, his voice harsh and his eyes cold. "Don't lecture me on feelings of hurt because everyone has felt it one way or another. I was doing both of you a favour."

That caught me. He was right. I sniffed. "I'll give you that. But did you really have to make me look like a slag? Two boys in one week? And with you of all people! People will think I turned down Paul just because some fancy hotshot asked me out. How superficial is that?"

He smirked, amusement shining in his eyes. I knew this conversation delighted him. Masochistic douchebag that he is. "As you said, I'm hot and oozing with sex appeal, how can you say no?"

My jaw dropped open. Arrogant bastard. "Oh yeah? Well, it's as easy as this: No."

With that said, I flipped him a two fingered salute and walked off. Classy? Definitely not. But it did make me feel accomplished. Bipolar freak of nature.

Day after, lying in my obscenely pink room

I really have to make changes to my room. I picked out the colour scheme back when I was twelve and didn't know anything about life. I berated my tween self. I was thinking about the colour scheme I'd like to change it to (green and purple? Or blue and white? Hm.) when I heard Chris's excited voice downstairs. Did he have a visitor? At this hour?

I checked the bright pink clock hanging on my well in front of my light pink desk. I swear my room is a sight for sore eyes. What was I thinking? It was seven-thirty. Okay, not too late of an hour. I went back to reading my book when a very excited and bouncy Chris entered my room without even bothering to knock. I tilted my head, a non-verbal question as to why he's in my room.

"Guillaumeisdownstairs!" he announced, his eyes bright and his mouth unable to stop smiling.


"Guillaume is downstairs!" he said again.

"He's what?" I yelled, sitting up straight in my bed and suddenly alert.

"He said he's here to pick you up. I can't believe you're dating him! You're the coolest sister ever!"

"I know I'm cool. What I don't know is why that idiot is here when I never said yes to the bloody date," I muttered, standing up and grabbing the nearest cardigan I could find and wrapped it around my body. I wasn't exactly dressed for going out as I was dressed in a white tank top and faded grey loose workout pants. I hunted around for a matching pair of shoes but found none. Whatever. I stomped down the stairs anyway and saw Guillaume seated on the sofa, his right arm slung over the armrest like he owned it.

"Hi!" he greeted me with a smile. Unfortunately, the smile knocked off my anger a bit. Damn him.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, trying my hardest not to be distracted with how gorgeous he looked. He was dressed casually in jeans and a light blue button down shirt but wow. He was hot. Even with his freshly washed hair sticking out every-which-way.

"Our date, remember?" he said jauntily.

"I said no, remember?" I retorted back in the same lightweight manner he did, only with much more sarcasm injected.

"You look lovely."

I arched an eyebrow at that statement. Who was he kidding?

He shrugged. "You could change your clothes though. It's a nice restaurant we're going to."

"We're not going anywhere," I told him through clenched teeth.

"Aw, why not?" wheedled my little brother. He was suddenly at my side and looking pitiful as he clung to my waist. "Go on, Nicky. It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, Nicky," Guillaume cajoled. "It'll be fun!"

How dare he exploit my little brother like this? I glared at him and then back down at my brother's smiling face. "We'll be back in one hour," I told Chris. I saw Guillaume smile brightly. Damn him for looking so perfect.

I marched to the coat closet next to the front door and dug around for shoes to wear and found an old pair of maroon Uggs. Meh. It'll do.

"Well?" I turned to Guillaume after opening the front door. "You coming?"

We walked out hand in hand (mostly because he had a tight grip on my hand but also slightly because it felt a bit nice) and it was a few feet away from our house before Guillaume spoke up.

"You know, I could have waited for you to change. We are going to a nice restaurant after all."

"You didn't give me a choice on this date so don't expect to have a choice in the fine dining experience you're about to partake," I said and led him a few more blocks up the road and into a narrow strip lined with two skips on one side until we reached a run-down Persian kiosk. There weren't a lot of people, which was good as there were only three tables.

Guillaume smiled. "This is where you want our first date to be?"

"It's not a date," I replied hotly. "It's just dinner."

We ordered kebabs and yoghurt drinks at the counter (he paid because he forced me out of the house and well, I didn't bring anything with me. Not even my phone, which is kind of stupid in hindsight. What if he killed me right then and there?) and nabbed a table, sitting in silence whilst waiting for our order.

"If I apologise for everything I ever did to you, both intentional and unintentional, will you forgive me?" Guillaume finally asked, breaking the ice.

"Why would you do that?" I looked at him sceptically. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"Because I made a mistake. I'm not really a bad person as you make me out to be."


"No, really. I'm sorry I, erm, how do you say like, I judged too quickly, yeah? I jumped to concussion? That's correct?"

I folded my arms, tried my hardest not to laugh and glared at him. I wasn't in the mood to help him with his English.

He sighed. "It's just that you reminded me of someone back in Monaco. She wasn't the nicest person in the world..."

"And you so quickly associated me with her? Nice. Thanks a lot."

"I know it's wrong. And I've been trying to make up for it but it's a bit hard. You can really hold on to grudges and it's hard for me to get past that first meeting with you."

"You deserve it," I grumbled, not feeling so angry anymore. He did apologise. And what he's saying about me and my grudges is true. But how do I know he's not just playing with me?

"Maybe. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Steal that man's dog," I said, motioning to a mid-thirties man dressed in a tweed blazer with elbow patches who was walking his Husky. Somehow he didn't seem like a Husky sort of fellow, but whatever floats his boat.

"You seriously want me to commit a crime?"

I looked away. His blue eyes were too enticing.

He sighed again and stood up. I watched as he made his way to the man but before he could clobber Mr Tweed Man, I called out his name and asked him to come back, afraid he might actually dognap the Husky. He reluctantly went back to our table.

"Look. You don't have to steal anything," I said. "I do hold grudges and it's something I should work on. I'll forgive you for now, okay?"

He grinned, his mouth quirking upwards sexily. Why did he have to be so hot? Our kebabs and drinks came a few seconds later and we were soon distracted by the food. It wasn't until I've slumped back down to my seat did I notice Guillaume's hand snake over mine and he held it lightly on top his thigh. I looked at him questioningly.

"I know that given our short history you'd again say no, but what do you say about going out with me again? A real date this time? Maybe finally try out that Thai place?"

"How about we try being civil with each other first? I'd like to see us get past that hurdle."

"I'm civil. It's you who's having a hard time trying not to be."

I made a face. He was right though. "I just that don't see why you'd ask me out on a date. I mean, I'm sure you have your pick of high profile supermodels or actresses."

He laughed sardonically. "Supermodels can go to hell."

Woah. Something must be up but I'm not one to press. If he wanted to tell me what it was, he would. I just raised my eyebrows kept quiet.

"It's getting late and I told Chris I'd be back in an hour. It's now past that," I said and stood up. I then realised his hand was still attached to mine. It felt oddly comforting.

"Why the sudden change of mind though?" I asked as we walked back to my house hand in hand. "I mean, first you didn't like me and suddenly you're asking me out on dates."

"I don't know. I thought you were this cliché: spoilt, rich and beautiful. But you're not, you're cool. I've seen you with Chris and it's not often a younger brother would look up to his older sister so much like he does. And you're really smart. And apparently all the girls in our year like you. It's like you're Miss Congeniality or something."

I bit back a grin that was starting to spread wildly. I looked up at him. "You think I'm beautiful?"

He chuckled. "Out of everything I just said, that's what you focus on? How typically superficial. You know, my first impression of you is probably right."

"Hey," I frowned and smacked him lightly on the chest. Believe me, I won't be throwing punches at him anymore. I've learnt my lesson and my knuckles are still recuperating.

He laughed and grabbed the hand that hit him and spun me so that we were face to face. He leaned down, his nose barely touching mine. His fingers reached my neck, stroking it lightly. I laughed, swatting his had away. That was a ticklish area and the way he held me—ooh. His mouth was suddenly on mine and all thoughts vanished. All I could think of was how soft his lips were pressed against mine and how gentle he was. It was a quick kiss but my heart was hammering erratically. He nipped my bottom lip one last time before moving back.

My eyes were still closed and my hands were still wrapped around his neck when out of the blue, he asks, "You don't still like Daniel, do you?"

"Hm?" I asked, opening my eyes to gaze back at him. "Daniel who?"

He grinned back at me, looking boyish like Chris on Christmas morning. "Never mind," he said and planted another soft kiss on me.

We walked back in comfortable silence until we reached my front door until a thought came to me. "Oh! I do fancy Daniel Radcliffe, was that who you meant?"

He rolled his eyes. "See you in school, Nicola."

"Alright," I smiled. He kissed me one last time before I opened the door and stepped inside, only to be pushed aside by my darling brother.

"Hey Guillaume, you want to come over tomorrow? Play ball or video games?"

"Oh, erm," he looked at me, as if asking for permission. I shrugged. Now that we're on kissing basis, I didn't really mind seeing him tomorrow. "Yeah, sure."


AN: Took me a really long time to update because I really didn't know where this would go. Even now, I still think it's too early for Nicola and Guillaume to get together but that's how it is. It won't be anti-climactic though (hopefully) as I still have something planned for them. Please review! It really makes me work faster. Mostly because then I'd know I have readers who don't particularly like waiting too long. Lol. xx