CHAPTER 7
[ Calvin ]
Nicolas lived in a mansion. I already knew this much when I gave him a ride home on his first day of school, but I couldn't grasp the idea of knowing someone who lived in a mansion. The only experiences I had with mansions were through my TV screen, not with my own two eyes.
It was such a big house that there was no way I could see everything in just once glance. I would probably have to spend weeks looking at each section of the house until I toured the whole house. The place was bigger than our school and our school was big enough to hold the three thousand students that went there.
"Wow," was the only thing I could say as I strolled past the grand doors with Nicolas by my side.
"You are impressed?" he asked me with a raised brow.
"Impressed?" I chuckled, "I'm speechless."
Nicolas' brows furrowed. "But you are speaking?"
I took a moment to tear my attention away from the giant columns on either side of us and look at the beautiful boy standing next to me. "It's an expression to describe when a person is very amazed by something, or someone."
Nicolas nodded gently and took my hand in his, kneeling down to plant a chaste kiss on the back of my hand. "Well, you make me very speechless, Calvin."
I felt hear rush to my cheeks and I turned away to conceal them, focusing my attention on the large, glass chandelier in the middle of the wide foyer. "Do you ever get lost in here?"
Nicolas fingers remained intertwined with mine as he led me up the ballroom staircase, much like a prince would do for his princess. "Not much," he replied, "I mostly go to the bathroom, my bedroom and the kitchen."
I wanted to listen to what he was saying, but I was too distracted by the way my hand felt in his. They felt like they were meant for each other, like my hand belonged in his and no one else's. He continued to lead me up the stairs and through a hallway, until we rounded the corner and approached a set of double doors.
"I must warn you," he began, "it's a mess."
I laughed at that. "Well, you should see my room! I never sleep on my bed because my sheets are always-" I stopped mid-sentence when I realized the nature of what I was going to share with him. "-nothing, sorry." Nicolas didn't question it and I was internally grateful for that. He didn't need to know that I spent most of my time masturbating to hot celebrities.
He pushed the doors open and my jaw nearly dropped. The room was adorned with a plush white carpet that looked almost too clean to be real. A large king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, but despite it's large size, it didn't even take up that much space. The room had enough space to fit a pool table, a mini-gaming section, a line of bookshelves, two love seats and three bean bag chairs, as well an entrance to the balcony, a closet that could be its own bedroom, and an own accompanying bathroom. The room itself was probably the size of my entire house. The mess he warned me about was probably the opened suitcases on the floor, but it wasn't all that noticeable.
"Wow," I voiced my thoughts, "how does a foreign exchange student get placed with such a wealthy family?"
"My school recommended it," he explained briefly, "they said it will be good for me."
I glanced over my shoulder at him to see he had already taken a seat at the edge of his bed. "Good for you, how?"
Nicolas stared straight ahead, as though as he was trying to conjure up an answer. "I do not really know," he admitted.
I continued to explore the room, becoming surprised at every new discovery. I noticed there was quite an expensive looking camera set atop one of the bookshelves, and I found myself tugging it free from its secured position. "You take pictures?"
Nicolas' turquoise eyes met mine almost immediately and he stared at the camera like it was an unknown object. "I did," he said, "but not anymore."
I walked back over to him and plopped down on the empty space next to him with the camera in hand. "Nonsense. I bet you're really good at it."
He smiled weakly. "I guess I have not found the right inspiration." I nodded as I fiddled with the buttons on the camera. I felt Nicolas' stare lingering on me and it wasn't long before he tried to grab the camera from me. "Can I?"
I gave another short nod and released the camera, allowing him to gain a full grip on it. He inspected it for a while before he turned it on and held it up to his face, aiming the lens at me. "Smile."
I curled my lips into a grin and when the camera flashed, Nicolas pulled the camera away from his face and stared down at the picture he had just taken. "It is beautiful," he commented, and then flicked his bright eyes to mine. "You are beautiful."
The blush was back again and there was no point hiding it now. "Thanks, er ... How do you say thanks in French?"
"Merci," he responded with a smile.
"Mare-si," I tried to say, but it probably came out like a huge fail.
Nicolas let out a low chuckle and brought his eyes back to mine again. He didn't say anything, but his eyes said enough. Shivers trickled down my spine when his hand found its way to my chin, tilting my head up slightly. My eyes widened with anticipation as he closed the gap between us and crashed his lips on mine. It was our second kiss and although the first kiss was perfect in its own right, this one made my heart do a thousand backflips in my chest.
His soft lips devoured mine, hot and passionate. His tongue grazed over my bottom lip, asking for entrance and I let him because I didn't want to refuse a fine specimen like himself. His tongue slipped past my lips and flicked over mine, playful and teasing. My arms instinctively found their place around his neck, allowing myself to sink into him. His hands fell to his sides at first, but they soon worked their way up to my waist, then slipping past the fabric of my shirt, and then roaming all over my bare stomach. I wanted him to keep kissing me and keep touching me for as long as he wanted. If he wanted to go all the way, then I would sure as hell let him.
He broke away from the kiss, though, breathing heavily and looking down at me with dark, lustful eyes. "I apologize, Calvin, I got carried away."
"No, no," I objected, feeling slightly desperate for his touch. "It's okay, I kinda, uh - no, I really liked it."
Nicolas shook his head in disbelief and let a little French fall from his lips, "Tu es mignon."
I smiled at him. "Can I tell you something?"
He placed his hands on my knees. "You can tell me anything."
"You're my first kiss," I blurted out, "like ever."
"I hope to be many of your other firsts."
My heart swelled at how ridiculously romantic he was being. He really was the perfect guy.
He moved closer to me. "May I ask something, now?"
"Yes."
"Why are you friends with Derek?" His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at me expectantly, obviously wanting a genuine answer.
I sighed, not wanting to get into this, but knowing I had to. "Well, we're not really friends. We used to be, like, really close but that kinda faded away. Now, he's just trying to make me be like him so he won't feel so bad that he's the reason why our friendship didn't work out."
Nicolas stared at me for quite some time, carefully studying me. "You like him," he mused.
I snapped my gaze to his. "What?"
"You like your friend," he repeated, "do you not?"
I scoffed. "I did, when he was less of a jerk."
He pursed his lips. "You still do. I can see it in your eyes."
I looked away when I felt the sudden warmth in my cheeks. Was I still attracted to Derek? Of course, he was a beautiful human being. Did I want to be with him? No, especially since it wouldn't work anyway. Was I in love with him? Nope. But did I like him? Did I want him to accept me as I was? Did I sometimes fantasize about him? Was he one of the reasons why my sheets were so messy?
Well, yes.
"There's nothing I can do about it," I ended up saying instead, "he's straight as a pole."
Nicolas frowned.
"It's another expression," I pointed out.
He gave me a slight nod. "I think I get it. It's because poles are straight, yes?"
I glanced down at my hands, sighing. "Yeah."
He noticed my slight change in mood because his hands snuck around my waist to pull me closer to him. "You do not need him," he told me, "you have me, now."
Without giving me time to respond, he gently pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back, our kiss growing more urgent by the second with every stroke of our tongues. I grabbed onto his shoulders, my hands slowly sliding down the length of his arms as we kissed. Before I realized it, I was leaning back onto the bed with Nicolas crawling on top of me, refusing to break our kiss.
One of his hands reached out and tugged on the belt loop of my jeans, jerking my hips up to his. Our lower halves were pressed together, creating a certain kind of friction that I didn't totally mind. His other hand worked its way through my hair, pulling gently when needed.
Suddenly, we were both trying to take my pants off, successfully yanking them down to my ankles and tossing them to the floor. Nicolas hovered over me for a quick second, studying me with his darkened sea green eyes.
I didn't realize he was asking for permission until a minute later. "Oh, I'm sorry, um, y-yes. You have my permission." His lips curled into a lopsided grin as his hands rested on my hips. "Just go s-slow, okay? I've never d-done this before."
He fused our lips together in one last passionate kiss. "I promise I will never hurt you, Calvin."
**
Having a single mom had its perks. For one, my mom had to pick up double shifts at the hospital just to make ends meet, so she was barely home. Secondly, she always left me enough money to order out. So as I crept into the dark house at nearly ten o'clock at night and flicked on the closest switch, I was internally grateful that I didn't have to face my mother's wrath.
I set my backpack down on the floor and rounded the corner into the kitchen, flicking on another light, but only to practically jump out of my skin when I saw Derek sitting atop the island with his cell phone in hand.
"What the hell!" I screeched. "Derek! How'd you get into my house?"
Derek merely looked at me, rolling his eyes. "You keep the spare key under the flower pot outside, Calvin. It's how I snuck into your house when we were little, remember?"
Was he being serious right now? He had just broke into my house like a damn burglar, and he was trying to be funny about it? "Derek!" I shouted. "What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" He looked up from his cell phone and stuck it into his pocket as he leaped off the island, making his way into me. "What's wrong with you? I was looking for you all over when school ended, and I couldn't find you. Where were you?"
"I was with Nic-"
His face screwed in disgust. "Why are you always with him?"
"Why do you care?" I fired back.
"Because he's creepy!" he yelled with just as much power. "Ever stopped to wonder why he seems to speak perfect English and he's not even from here?"
I brought my fingers up to my face and began to massage my temples, hoping to relieve myself of the sudden stress taking over my body. "English is one of the easiest languages to learn, Derek. Stop being an ass."
Derek shook his head violently, refusing to believe what I was telling him. "Bullshit. I speak English and I'm still failing English class."
"Derek, get out of my house."
He folded his arms against his chest in a defensive manner. "I'm not leaving until you tell me where you were."
This wasn't anything new. Even when we were friends, Derek was always known to be possessive of things that were closest to him. Sometimes, it was his girlfriends, or his parents, but it was never me.
I shouldn't have cared about his threats, but somehow, I found myself caving in. "We went to his house, okay?"
"His house?" he questioned as though he didn't hear me correctly the first time. He seemed to be debating some internal issue in his mind for quite a while before looking back to me, mouth agape. "You had sex with him."
I wanted to object, I wanted to protest, I wanted to lie my ass off, but instead, I stuck my hands into my pockets and looked off to the right where the wad of dinner money sat on top of the stove.
When I didn't respond, Derek threw a hand over his mouth and turned away from me. "Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick."
That hurt more that it should have. "Wow," I said, feigning astonishment.
"At least tell me you weren't the one receiving..." His words trailed off when he realized my facial expression had hardened significantly, "...oh my god, you were! That's so fucking gross."
I faked a smile. "It's nice to know that I disgust you so much."
He didn't even try to deny it as he leaned against the kitchen sink and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't like him, Calvin."
"Why?" I asked in a desperate cry, flailing my arms in the air in complete and utter frustration. "Is it because he's gay and that he actually likes me and wants to be with me?"
He grunted. "Something is off about him."
"What is it?"
"I don't know yet," he muttered under his brother, "but I know there's something."
I heaved a long sigh and turned on my heel, walking into the living room to retrieve the landline. Derek followed me, out of habit, and basically stood over my shoulder as I dialed the local pizza place. As I was placing my order, Derek tapped my shoulder, making me look at me.
"Pepperoni," he mouthed to me.
Sighing, I repeated Derek's request into the phone and hung up once my order was confirmed. "I hate you, you know that right?"
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, flexing his muscles in the process, and I hated myself for becoming so intrigued by it. "Look, if you really wanna date Frenchy, then it's okay, but-"
I scoffed. "Funny, I don't remember asking for your permission."
"-But keep it on the down low, okay? Everyone at school already thinks you're dating Maya and exactly one week from now, you're going to break up with her. If you want to keep your head out of toilets and your underwear out of closets, then you need to follow my rules."
I furrowed my brows. "Why am I going to break up with her?"
"It's what all straight guys do," he replied with a casual smile.
"Really?" I lifted a skeptical brow. "It sounds more like something you do."
"And I'm a straight guy, aren't I?"
He didn't give me time to respond because he had already plopped down onto the nearest couch, snatching the remote and clicking the TV on. After a minute of switching through the channels, Derek noticed I was still standing behind the couch, staring at him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Sit. Pizza's gonna be here soon. We can watch Die Hard."
I shook my head in disbelief, but I obeyed his commands and squeezed into the empty space next to him. I didn't know what it was about Derek, but I knew there was nothing he could ever do to make me stay mad at him.
And I hated it.
**
a/n: so to make up for my long hiatus from his story, I've given you guys another update.
How do you feel about Nic & Cal right now? Would you mind if they became a couple?
If you liked this chapter, then don't forget to vote and comment because that means a lot to me. There's also a picture of Nicolas over to the side.
Until next time,
Lara <3