No Fighting Please
When we got home that night there was only one thing I could do.
I called Emma.
It’s her mom that picked up on the third ring. Emma’s mom was too talkative for her own good though. She wanted to know how I was doing, how were my grades, was her daughter behaving in school, did she do drugs… It took me a good twenty minutes to get through the interrogatory before I was able to speak to my friend.
And all the while I was still freaking the crap out. Two words kept repeating in my head.
Elliot Roy, Elliot Roy, Elliot Roy…
I still couldn’t believe it, believe that Raph knew him, that he was going to the same school… I mean okay that didn’t necessarily mean anything, but at least he wasn’t the unknown CD guy anymore. He had a name!
“Azé? You there?” Emma asked, in her tone I could swear she was rolling her eyes.
Had she been talking to me while I had been thinking of sexy sexy Elliot Roy? Hmm… yummy.
Snap out of it, lady.
“We need to talk Em,” I told her, my tone all my omniscient.
“Really? Is that why people call people? To talk?” There was a definite roll of eyes here.
I shook my head. “Stop being a smart ass”
“Well get to the point,” she replied, her tone amused.
I knew Em, she was so doing this purposely to annoy me, most probably because I had been out of it all week and a moppy friend in general. It was time for me to tell her, to confess, sort of. That’s what girl friends were for right? Dish about guys?
“Okay… well…” this was much harder than I had expected, “remember last week, when we went shopping at Archambault.”
Am I really going to admit this out loud? I felt ridiculous already and I hadn’t hinted anything yet. “And you went to get books and I stayed in the CD section…”
“I’m getting grey hairs here lady” Em laughed.
“Shut up.” Bad idea. Let’s change subject. No you don’t. You need to spill this, spilling might help. Phoquing inner conflicts! “Okay so… while you were gone I saw this guy,”
And there it is I said it.
Emma sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “For the last time Azé, you can’t see ghost okay?”
What the… oh!
“Hey! I know what I saw”
It was so not the time to bring to the table old stories but I wasn’t going to let this one go easily.
“It was the Western Festival and some random girl had just puked on your shoes and you were hysterical, so no, your judgment doesn’t count on this”
Jesus, I wouldn’t win this would I? And the point of this call was to talk about sexy CD guy aka Elliot Roy. So I could be less obsessed with him… or something…
“Whatever not the point right now.” I stated, trying to get back on track.
“The guy I saw, he was hot as hell alright,” this sounded really bad and superficial out loud “and I think I kinda have a crush on him, at least my hormones are responding very favourably towards him,” I blurred. Yes yes, just as bad that too.
“WHAT?!” she shrieked what almost made me drop the phone. “Why did it take you so long to spill this! Azélie Tremblay! You’re supposed as a member of the female gender to SPILL that kind of thing RIGHT AWAY!”
If I didn’t feel like such a turd for admitting what I was admitting I’m sure I could have laughed at Emma’s tone. “Well… I didn’t want to make a big thing out of it… but…”
“Oh my GOD! There’s more,” she squealed.
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me, “I saw him again tonight.”
“Where, how, when” Em blurred.
I walked around my room unable to stay put, turning on my toes while I answered her. “At the restaurant, we were eating with the Lacroix and he was there too… I kinda bumped into him while getting out of the bathroom” Completely cliché worthy really…
“And you kidnapped him and now you need to find a place to hide his body because you inadvertently killed him?”
I stopped walking and rolled my eyes. “I really love the fact that you think I could pull off something like that.”
“I don’t, but assuming things seem to make you spill more sometimes. Obviously this is not one of those though”
“Again, shut up. Anyway! Raph knew him”
“What?” Again with the squealing.
“Raph knows him, the sexy guy,” I tried to explain “They both go to the same school. His name’s Elliot Roy.”
Unbelievably attractive Elliot Roy.
“And what are you doing talking to me on the phone? Facebook! NOW!” Emma ordered. “Why the deuce do you think it’s been invented? To stalk people!”
“Alright, alright” I chuckled and went to sit in front of my lap top. It took a few minutes for it to come alive and for Internet to open and for me to get on Facebook. When I was finally on, and Emma was already naming our future children, I went to Raph’s profile and to his friend list.
I frowned while staring at the screen. “How do you spell Elliot?”
“Just type Roy” Em said in a rush.
“Jesus lady, calm down you sound more hyper than me,” I laughed.
“Sorry, this is just a BIG thing! My little girl likes a boy!” Phoquing squealing again. This was getting into a problem.
“For the third time, shut up,” I groaned and typed Roy.
There it was, right in my face, the little icon with Elliot Roy’s name beside a little picture of him, well when I say of him I mean of a really tall guy with a snow suit and a snowboard in his hand raising it over his head. He’s got the cool dude beanie and not the glasses so at least I can see his face and I can say that it does look just like him. And my breathing is itching so that should be a warning sign. Stupid hormones.
“So, so, so?” Em urged.
“He’s there” I clicked on him, “single” score! “Friends in commun; seven. And one of them…”
Holy dead-on-a-shore phoque.
I blinked a few times not sure of what I was seeing. But there it was, still there. “One of them is Vinc.” I gasped.
How did Vinc know him?
Jesus… could things get more out of this world?
YOU ARE READING
No Fighting PleaseTeen Fiction
"That’s the way things work in my family. My parents are separatists, my brother is a pot-head and my younger sister is a Human-Sized-Bratz. But I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Well I would trade my brother when he triggers the smoke alarm at t...