𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 || Jerome Clarke

Mademoiselle & Monsieur

Her voice bubbled with the chime of laughter as she walked alongside him.

Jerome strode along beside her giving her an in-depth education on the school. His wild hand gestures making her giggle as they approached their first lesson of the day. He'd waited outside Sweetie's office as she received her timetable and a 'warm welcome', before being rushed out of the office with a swift pat on the shoulder.

"You are such an idiot."

"No, I'm being serious. It happened right there, but I was smooth about it I swear."

"Sure you were, Clarke," she said humorously as they turned the corner towards the classroom where the 2nd period of french was currently taking place. Jerome led the way chatting away, allowing her mind some respite from the nerves that had been wracking her gut all morning. Iris couldn't help but feel that her brother should be the one doing this for her. She couldn't blame him for the distance that had been created between them, but it still stung nonetheless.

"Okay, well here it is," Jerome said suddenly as they came to a halt in front of a door that didn't look dissimilar to the one that had just been slammed in her face minutes prior, "Be prepared, Ms Andrews can be a tad harsh. Ready?"

"Je suis prête, oui," she laughed, unable to keep a straight face with Jerome's dramatic drawl.

"Oh great, you're a prodigy. You'll be fine then," he smirked, pushing the door open and ushering her towards the classroom with his hand pressed against her lower back. As they walked in he lowered his lips to her ear so that she could feel his hot breath fan against her ear as he whispered, "Bonne chance."

She snorted lightly at that, attracting the attention of the classroom as the door shut behind them, causing Iris to widen her eyes as the whole class stared at the pair in the doorway.

"Mr Clarke, late for the first class of the year. What else could I really expect?" An older lady who stood by the board rolled her eyes. Pulling her pen from the board she turned to face them and stood expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

Without missing a beat Jerome spoke up, his voice adopting an intensified sarcasm, "Terribly sorry, Mam'. Just thought that I would fulfil my studently-duty and escort our newest recruit to her first class." As he finished he took a step to the right and gestured to where Iris stood, she reached out to try and frantically pull him back so she could remain less noticeable though she ended up simply gripping her sweater sleeve as she awkwardly smiled at the sceptical teacher. Where previously his tall frame had obscured her figure slightly, she now was in full view for everyone to see. 

"Hi, yes. Jerome was really just helping me about. I fear I would have got completely lost without him," Iris breathed with a sweet smile, easily slipping into a confident tone as she addressed Ms Andrews, "Sorry for the interruption."

"Oh yes, another Rutter is gracing our halls. I remember now," the lady spoke softly, though her face contorted into a light grimace making the blush on Iris's cheeks burn brighter. Iris turned her gaze to Jerome, silently begging him to remove them from the scrutiny of Ms Andrews; she wasn't shy but they had been stood up for a couple minutes too long.

He got the hint.

"Well, thank you for the lovely introduction, Mam'. I assume there's a seating plan where I am not next to Alfie," Jerome said, giving the older lady a wolfish grin as if proud of his mischievous accomplishments last year.

"Yes, indeed there is. You two were a true set-back to last years learning objectives," Ms Andrews sighed heavily as if re-living the trials and tribulations of Alfie and Jerome's antics last year, "You two," she continued pointing at the pair that were still standing by the door, "May  sit together over there."

"Thank you Ms," Iris said softly, pulling at the strap on her shoulder bag nervously as she made her way to her seat. She felt a number of eyes following her as she found her seat; picking up her pace she reached the desk as soon as she could.

She felt Jerome reach the table at the same time, the heat of his body radiating to her own as he stood close behind her. She felt his arm brush her side as he snaked it around behind her to pull out her chair, "Et voila, Mademoiselle."

Jerome's easy-going nature put Iris at ease and she smiled at his choppy french accent, happily taking the seat that he offered, "Merci, Monsieur." 

The whole lesson Jerome lent back in his chair. His lithe body stretched out as he whispered continual remarks about the lesson. His long arm was stretched across the back of Iris's chair; a subconscious pattern being traced along her upper back as he snickered and goaded Ms Andrews from afar. Iris prayed he couldn't hear the sound of her heartbeat the same way she could as he sketched his fingers across her back and smirked when she'd tease his restlessness.

What Iris didn't notice, was the daggers her brother and his American were staring at Jerome throughout the lesson. Jerome noticed, he personally prided his perception skills, and simply lent further into his seat as he sent Fabian a taunting smirk before turning his attentions back to Iris as she asked him a question pertaining to the worksheet.

Overall, however, she was surprised to find that he was a good student. They had many classes together where Jerome bargained with teachers to partner them together (it worked 9 times out of 10) and she watched him in awe as he listened intently and wrote neat notes in his black ink pen; his attention only wavering when he made time to smile down at her. Though she did notice that French was evidently his least favourite subject, and she suspected it was because he was a less-than talented linguist, though he wouldn't admit it.

She found herself eating lunch peacefully by herself until a loud crash of a tray disrupted her meal. Startled, she looked up from where she had been focusing on her bangers and mashed potatoes, to see her brother. His face was scrunched up in a weird way and the American girl stood beside him with crossed arms.

"Um, hi Fabian," Iris said slowly, raising her eyebrow at her brother's odd behaviour, "Everything alright?"

"What are you playing at?"

Iris gaped back at her brother, "I'm sorry what?"

"I said, what are you playing at? Why have you been clinging to Jerome all day? I told you he's bad news."

"Excuse me?" Iris was shocked.

"You heard him," Fabian's girlfriend piped up, making Iris narrow her gaze as she flicked her eyes to meet hers. Thin and dark as obsidian; her eyes mirrored those of a viper as she stared at the mouthy girl behind her brother.

"Shut up Naomi."

"Her name is Nina," Fabian sighed.

"I don't give a shit what her name is. She needs to pipe down yeah?" Iris snapped, her gaze zeroing in on her brother, "Now, say what you said again, Fabian."

"I'm telling you to stay away from Jerome. I get you're pissed at me for yesterday night but Jerome is a twat. Find someone else, alright?"

Iris sat silent for a moment as she let her emotions bubble, "The only twat I see right now, is you and your fucking girlfriend." She seethed as she spat the words at her brother.

"Iris-"

"No, fuck you," Iris snarled, "Fuck, you, Fabian. I'm your sister and you haven't seen me in years because our- " Iris stopped her self but felt her chest rising and falling as her brother's outraged expression angered her to no end, "I'm your sister and you left me on my first day to find my own way, and you've been acting secretive as shit and no one else here has made a fucking effort to be my friend, not even you but Jerome has. Then you come up to me and tell me who I can and can't be friends with? Fuck you and your audacity." Her voice remained quiet but she allowed it to shake as she verged on actually losing her temper.

Iris grabbed her bag and tray leaving her brother to bitch by himself.