gif of Chris to the right ;) (why so sexy) -->
♡ Chapter 6 ♡
"Thanks for coming to Siobhan's house, especially since you're so busy," I said to Chris just as we left Siobhan's house.
"It's alright, it was pretty fun," He smiled at me. I laughed loudly. It had been a disastrous baby-sitting time at Siobhan's house.
First of all, after Siobhan had asked Chris about the tickets (and he agreed), she decided to go grocery shopping and leave us with her little brother. Secondly, the minute she left, Theo had let out a war cry before tying us together back to back while we were sitting on our chairs. Thirdly, he spent the next two hours shooting us with his arrows from his arrow and bow set while we tried to escape.
When Siobhan finally came back and demanded Theo to let us go, Chris and I finally managed to high-tail our way out of that lunatic asylum.
"I apologize on the behalf of Siobhan and Theo, they shouldn't have done that to you," I added. Siobhan had literally screamed her whole head off when Chris had arrived at her place, and only quietened down after my threats.
"No worries."
"So, did you drive here?" I asked him.
"Subway," He shook his head.
"Ah. Well, I think I should go home now," I started after a moment of hesitation. "I have training tomorrow, and it's getting pretty late."
I started walking after waving at him. However, after a few steps, I stopped and turned around. Chris was still standing in the same position, and he waved at me awkwardly.
"Do you, um, want to walk with me?" I asked boldly, feeling my face heat up. Luckily, it was night time so my cheeks weren't visible to the average human eye. "My apartment is about eight blocks away."
"Sure," Chris stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his jeans as he walked towards me. "So, where are you planning to go for college?"
"Columbia," I beamed at him, "Journalism."
"Wow, the Ivy League. You must be pretty smart, huh," Chris teased, grinning back at me.
I shook my head quickly. "Not so sure about being smart. You know, I want to be a journalist. I can't do that nine-to-five desk job. I need to move around a lot, so being a journalist is perfect for me. I'm not sure if I can get in, though."
"What's your back-up, then? If you don't get in?" Chris continued.
"I'll apply to the Navy. Just work for them for two years, and they'll give me a scholarship to any college in the country," I shrugged. It was a plan that Zack had thought up during one of our sibling bonding moments, when I had been panicking over college applications. It had been quite difficult to convince my parents to let me go to the Navy (if I didn't get into Columbia), since they never had to face their child being rejected by a college (Zack and James went to community colleges). Fortunately, after some help from James and Zack, they relented. "What about you? What do you want to do with your life?"
Chris sighed. "I'm basically stuck in the modeling industry for a few more years, but once I leave, I want to be a doctor, which means that I have to go back to school."
"Why not stick to modeling? You have an excellent bone structure," I accidentally blurted out, my cheeks flaming from my outrageous comment.
He laughed loudly, freely. "It's not really my thing. Besides, most models retire by their thirties. I want to move out of New York, maybe go somewhere with a slower pace of life for my future family."
"I don't think I can survive anywhere else but New York," I admitted, "I've lived here all my life."
"Me too, but sometimes change will do some of us good," Chris said quietly before changing the topic, "Are you alright? You look pretty cold."
I was suddenly reminded of the chilly winter night. The cold air nipped at my skin, and my goosebumps were raised over my arms. I hadn't anticipated the sudden drop in the temperature, therefore I had only worn a grey jacket that didn't do much to keep me warm, instead of my usual scarf and coat.
"I'm alright," I told him.
"You look like you're going to get frost bite. Seriously, your lips are turning blue," Chris looked at my face worriedly, before taking off his black coat, "You're severely underdressed for five degree weather."
He gestured for me to turn away from him, and then, he hung the coat over my shoulders. I shivered as his warm hand brushed against my freezing neck.
"Turn back around," He instructed. I did as told, and Chris quickly buttoned up the coat for me.
"Let's hurry up. I don't want you to turn into a popsicle," Chris stated. We started walking again, this time at a quicker pace.
And, somehow, my cold hand ended up being intertwined with Chris's warm hand as we journeyed back to my apartment.
* * *
"Have you skated on a frozen pond before?"
Chris shot me a surprised look, and slowly shook his head. "I've never ice skated before."
"Well, you're missing out," I exclaimed loudly, "Hey, wait here. Don't move an inch."
Chris nodded, still looking pretty surprised, and I turned back once more to ensure that he wasn't going to run away, before dashing into the elevator. After grabbing mine and James's old skates, and my thick woolly coat, I rushed back down to the lobby.
"Wait. So, we're going to skate on a pond, at eleven-thirty in the night," Chris once again confirmed with me as he followed me to our destination, holding James's black skates in his hand.
"Yep. Exactly," I affirmed, as I led him through a passage I had been to a gazillion times, to a small pond behind our apartment. It was - as expected - frozen solid, and after knocking on it a few times, I ensured that it was strong enough to hold.
"C'mon, pull your skates on," I urged him as I quickly tugged my three year old skates onto my woollen-sock covered feet. I decided against waiting for him, and quickly entered the makeshift ice rink, skating to adjust to the roughness of the unsmoothened ice.
Minutes later, Chris joined me. "I'm going to fall," He mumbled as he stumbled onto the ice clumsily, collapsing with a thud moments later. I laughed as he emitted a loud groan.
"You can do this, come on. I'll teach you," I offered as I skated around him carefully. After a few laps around him, I slowly bent down, and offered my hand to him. "It's actually really simple after you get the hang of it."
Chris let out another loud and resigned sigh, before grabbing onto my arm, allowing me to slowly pull him up. Surprisingly, he was not as heavy as I'd expected even though he already looked as skinny as a bean pole.
"Wow, you're really light. What's your weight?" I couldn't help but question him.
"Hundred and eighty pounds."
"That's crazy! You're underweight! And, you're like, six-four isn't that right?" I sputtered in astonishment. That was extremely unhealthy to be underweight.
"You need to have right body requirements for a runway model," Chris replied, as if that was the answer to everything, "Besides, you look like you're underweight too."
"I have a high metabolism, excuse you. I'm a hundred and twenty-seven pounds," I said defensively.
"Well, I have a high metabolism too, then." Chris smiled cheekily at me.
"Forget it then," Waving the matter off, I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist to support him and prevent him from falling.
"It's easy as one, two, three!" I said, "Loosen up. You're as stiff as a board. It's just basically like walking on ice, but you glide."
I started skating, and pulling Chris along as well, since my arm was wrapped around his waist. At first he stumbled and tripped over the rough ice, but after a few laps of the pond, he started getting the hang of it. Slowly and steadily, he started becoming more and more confident. Finally, I let go of him.
It somewhat resembled a father teaching his son how to ride a bike. I was the father, and I'd finally taught Chris how to ride his metaphorical bike, and it was time to let go. Unfortunately for him (or maybe me), seconds after he was skating on his own, he fell again, with a loud thud.
"That's definitely going to bruise," Chris complained. Instead of trying to stand up again, he crawled across the ice to the edge of the pond. I rolled my eyes at him, and skated over to give him a hand.
"Maybe this kind of thing just isn't for you?" I tried to conceal my smile, but failed horribly as I chuckled at his failure.
Chris narrowed his eyes at me, before clamping his arm on mine. He gave it one quick tug, and I found myself losing my balance and falling over him, landing on my side with a loud oof. He burst into laughter.
"Chris!" I shrilly exclaimed, whacking his arm with my free hand.
"Oops, your bad," Chris grinned at me boyishly, and grabbed me to pull me into a sitting position next to him. "Come, let's enjoy the view."
"There is no view," I retorted quickly, looking up at the dark sky. Very few stars could be seen in the dark sky, mainly because New York was as bright as the sun with the neon signs, buildings, and street lights. Besides, we were facing the back of a building.
"Well, that's true." However, Chris continued sitting there, right at the edge of the frozen pond. "It's nice sitting here though. You can sort of get away from the bustle of the city."
"You must be really stressed."
"Why do you say so?"
I looked at him. "I love New York, and I love the bustle of the city. That's what makes us New Yorkers," I responded enthusiastically, "So, why are you so stressed here?"
"I'm sick of New York," After a moment, Chris finally admitted, "I should have followed my father when he left for Africa."
"Your father is in Africa?"
"Yep. He started the company with my mother, and left a year after for Africa to do mission work. He tries to build houses and get water filters for the people," Chris explained to me, "I haven't seen him in person for nine years."
"Wow, that's really long ago."
Chris nodded curtly. "He calls once a month, but we only talk for ten minutes maximum. It's hard for him to get hold of a phone, much less video call."
"That must really suck," I tried to comfort him awkwardly. I didn't really know how it felt to have a parent living so far away, since my family was as close as it could get; Zack and James still lived with us even though they should be out working their butts off in college and living in dorms!
"I guess I don't really miss him like crazy, but I just regret not going with him. I could be helping the children in Africa right now, you know?" Chris looked at me from under his long eyelashes, his blue eyes piercing.
"Why don't you go then?"
Chris exhaled. "My mother made me promise her that I'd work for her for another year. Once that's over, I'll join my father in Burundi for a while."
"Sounds interesting," I smiled at him. I hadn't pegged him for being this kind of a person.
Chris shot me a tight smile. "What about you? What type of journalism do you want to go into?"
"I've always been quite interested in crime journalism and write articles about gory murders," I mused out loud, causing Chris to send me a peculiar look, "But, I think fashion journalism could be quite fun."
"Like paparazzi?" I noticed Chris's face twist into a grimace.
I quickly defended myself with a loud no, before explaining, "I want to work for Vogue or a magazine. Be like a fashion editor, even though my sense of fashion isn't very desirable."
I turned to face Chris after my short speech, to see him looking intently at me. The intensity of his gaze made my face flush with embarrassment, and I lowered my head so that my hair could fall forward and cover my face.
Oh my, this was turning out like the books I'd read.
"What made you want to do that?"
"Uh, my aunt. She told me that I would be the best journalist there was, when I was young. So, yup, here I am," I laughed awkwardly.
"Haven't you thought of some other job? What if your dream gets, uh, rejected?" Chris asked.
I thought about it for a second, before shaking my head at him slowly. "I've honestly never thought about that possibility. Which is why I need to get into Columbia."
There was a few seconds of silence. Then, "What about modeling?"
"What is there about modeling?" I replied, confused.
"Will you ever model?" Chris inquired calmly, as if anyone could just ask such a question. He obviously hadn't seen me walk around or run with other people.
I cracked up, laughing until my sides hurt. "The day someone asks me to model, is the day that hell freezes over. I'm so clumsy that I can trip over flat ground. I don't walk around in heels, unless you'd like to see me break my neck."
"Isn't being a supermodel every girls' dream. It was Callista's, until she realised that she was too short," Chris asked bemusedly.
"Well it was never my dream. I've never wanted to be a fairy, princess, ballerina or model at all. To me, it's all impractical."
Chris beamed at me.
"That's what I like about you."
~~~
here's the next chapter hoooorahhhh!
OKAY. so i really need some help here, so please try to read this.
so, i got my results back, and my overall percentage was 71.09%, which in my country, is an A2. technically, i'm eligible to do nine subjects for next year (ninth grade).
this is the problem: I'm not sure whether I should take triple science or triple humanities.
triple science basically means that i take chem, bio and physics, while triple humanities mean i take lit, history, and geog/music/art.
i really don't know what to pick, and i love humanities but i feel like it's going to be quite pressurising.
please comment your advice? i'm keying in my subject combination tomorrow (21st oct), and i would appreciate it if you commented asap.
thanks for reading once again! i'll update soon!
please continue reading/commenting/voting, and i hope to post again soon.
GOD BLESS all you people!