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"Can you speak French?" I ask him.
"Yes. Can you?"
"A little. I know the basic stuff like oui, bonjour, croissant, baguette. Also, j'veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche."
He stops in his tracks and looks at my mouth. No, he 𝘴𝘵�...
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I wake up and glance around. I'm in my room.
I'm not sure how I got here because the last thing I remember is being in Louis's car.
I have a major headache.
I climb out of bed and head to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water.
I take it back to my room.
I feel so exhausted.
I jump when my bedroom door gets flung open and Frankie barges in. "We need to talk."
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"
"Murderer man. He dropped you off last night."
"Oh. Right." I nod.
"Why didn't you tell me he was that hot?" Frankie exclaims.
"I did." I swear to god I told her he was a 10.
"If someone asked me to describe that man, I wouldn't just be saying, 'oh, he's alright'. No. That man, what's his name, Lavigne? That is something else entirely. That is the kind of attractiveness you only see once or twice and you're lucky enough to know him and yet you underestimate his hotness," Frankie says, exasperated.
When Frankie gets passionately involved in what she's talking about, she'll be very expressive. Like right now.
I nod. "Sorry. I made a friend yesterday."
"Honey, that man is too sexy to be your friend."
"Not him." I roll my eyes. "A girl. At work. Her name is Grace and she's so cool. You'd love her. I was thinking of maybe inviting her to come trick or treating with us."
"Okay. I'm sorry but I don't care. I want to hear about murderer man," Frankie says bluntly.
I sigh and pat my bed, indicating for her to sit down, and when she does, I tell her about my day yesterday and how he got my phone number.
Frankie says that means something and that he likes me but I think she's being silly.
It's not even me disliking myself, it's just a fact that he's way out of my league. And judging by his car, I'm assuming he has money. He's too good for me in every single way.
It's not a problem, though. I don't really see him like that. I don't even know if I want to be his friend. He's very grumpy.
I guess I can't blame him. When I'm sad, I get moody. He might be going through a tough time right now. Who knows?
I don't work today but I'm craving a hot chocolate so I think I might go to the cafe and get one.
