Chapter Four

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Hello guys! Thanks for stopping by :) I'm having a good time writing this, and i'm so pleased to have gotten a couple of votes and comments from a few lovely lovely folk in the past three chapters, so thanks so much for that if your one of them! I love a romance.... 

Anywho, onwards! 

Sookie x

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Chapter Four

I walked home with Madeleine after that horrible horrible day. Apparently, all because i couldn't speak a great deal of French, i had to have seperate lessons all to myself. No one for company, except the teacher who spoke fluent english, and happened to be a cold blooded killer. I wouldn't even have Madame Dubois. From now on, I had to go after the normal school hours to sit in an empty classroom with him, and only him. Looks like i'd have to prepare myself with more than a few cut up pens. 

'I don't know what you've got against him. He seems really sweet.' She says, biting into the coissants we'd bought walking through the town square. 

As I told Madeleine all this, all she could do was laugh. It wasn't as if she knew he was the one who fired the gun.She hadn't seen anything. As far as i knew, she kept her eyes shut the whole time. She saw no body, nothing. It felt wrong to keep that from her, but i knew she'd go crazy, and I couldn't risk my only friends life. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

'He seems like a dick.' I retort. 

She hits my arm playfully, her eyes alight with humour. Any traces of trauma had completely disappered. 'How can you be so quick to judge! He's killer hot, Isla.' 

Oh, maddy, you have no idea. 'Whatever. At least you don't have to spend your evening doing maths with that psyc-... erm, creep.'

She rolls her eyes. 'Oh please. I can tell you like him. Hey, do you know whats the best bit? He'll be the teacher for the school's trip to Paris.'

OH HELL NO. No way, never, ever. It was bad enough having to go in the first place. My mom had taken me to Paris when we first moved, the place is so overrated. It would be even worse having to spend a whole week in it. In fact, France itself was a total bunch of onions. 

We walk until Madeleine has to break off and go the other way, and I stand at the bus stop. I can feel the dregs of rain beginning to form in the air and my mind suddenly droops. Fantastically, i realise i am out of cigarettes, too. Trying to make a whole evening through without them is like trying to impregnate a rock- it just won't happen. And so with this, i trudge my way back up through the market square, deciding i'll hitch a lift a home with one of the farmers passing by. 

Its beginning to get a little dark, and I have to use my phone as a light. I walk into the store which is esentially open at all hours weirdly enough, and ask Harry, the shopkeepers son, for my usual. I kind of liked Harry, he never questioned my age, and always sold them to me at a discounted price- God only knows why. I had a slight feeling it was because i winked at him on my first day here. Hmm. 

I was just handing the money over, when I hear a loud, throaty laugh coming from behind me. When I look round, I know there's only one person who it could belong too. He's obviously just gotten out from the school, and is carrying a few groceries amongst his grasp. I quickly take the cigarettes and shove them into my pocket, walking past him without a second glance. His blue eyes could cause traffic, and I ignore them like the plague. 

'Isla, it's dark out. Are you walking home by yourself?' I hear him call out, after paying. He walks a few paces behind me. I hear his footsteps splash amongst the wet cobbles. 

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