The Adventures of a Pumpkin and a Running Back Boy

Lexi, the French Speaker

Lexi, the French Speaker

 

 

“It doesn’t make sense Blake. How are you supposed to know what’s feminine and what’s masculine,” I groaned, wanting to throw the “Learning French” book as far as I could.

With his head on my lap and without looking up from the book he was reading resting up on his stomach, Blake answered, almost nonchalantly. “You just remember.”

“But that doesn’t make sense.” This time I snapped the book closed and threw it on the recliner. Stuuuuuuupid book, and stupid, stupid language.

Frowning, Blake set down his own book on his stomach. “So this is how you feel when you’re trying to explain stoichiometry to me?”

Under normal circumstances I probably would have slapped his head with his book but this wasn’t normal circumstance and I wasn’t about to hit the love of my life on the head.

He had gotten out of the hospital a little over a week ago, and to say I was walking on eggshells around him was an understatement. I knew he was actually getting a little annoyed with me trying to be too overprotective. But seriously, could the guy blame me? I had found him lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood—that kind of tended to traumatize a girl a little.

So instead I just kissed his forehead and lay my head back on the couch, closing my eyes and sighing heavily.

“You’ll get the hang of it Pumpkin, don’t worry,” Blake assured me and returned to reading his book.

            Stroking his now extremely short hair—they had to shave his head to operate and so it was just barely longer than half a inch now—and wondered out lout, “And what if I don’t? What happens then?”

            Blake smiled. “Then I’ll be able to keep on torturing you with foreign languages.”

            I pinched his arm. “And why do you? It’s annoying. Seriously, stop speaking in gibberish. English is awesome. Use it.”

            I was rewarded with a chuckle. “Please, you love it.”

            “No I don’t” I answered narrowing my eyes.

            This time Blake closed his eyes and looked up at me. “Hey, I’ll have you know the first time I told you I loved you was in Thai—aside from all those time I said it to nag you after you said you hated me.”

            I backed up a bit, making him sit down correctly on the couch. “Whoa whoa, what? In Thai?

            This seemed to make my boyfriend proud for some strange reason. “Yeah.”

            “When did you say you loved me in Thai?”

“What did you think rak mak mak meant?” Blake laughed.

Smiling sheepishly, I offered, “Cancer poopy poopy?”

“It means that I love you a lot,” Blake corrected me.

I let out a loud breath. “Seriously?”

“Yep!”

I frowned, remembering that night he said it. “Then why the hell did Josh try to kill you over it?”

My boyfriend rolled his eyes at that. “Because Josh believes it’s unethical and cowardly to confess your love in a language the other doesn’t understand.”