Dangerous: A Marcel Styles Fan Fiction

15: Parental Approval

15: Parental Approval

   Even if it was just one little quiz, I still had an F staring me in the face. However, I was admittedly still getting better at algebra. This time, I’d only failed by two points instead of twenty. It was still enough to inflict upon me a lingering pout.

   Georgia Rose went straight to her art class – the one class she was actually passing with little effort – and left me alone at our lockers to grab what I needed for second period English. I wasn’t the only one who lingered in the hall. A leather covered arm slipped over my shoulders and warm lips pressed onto my cheek.

   “What’s wrong?” he asked when I didn’t respond to his public display of affection (though I’d never really been into PDA’s anyway).

   To answer his question, I pulled the only lose sheet of paper from my binder and handed it to him, watching with a bitten lip as he nodded at seeing my score. “I see,” he muttered, giving back to me the record of my failure, “I guess we really need to work on your math.”

   I sighed and shut my locker. “Well, considering every tutoring session turns into sex,” I muttered, “yeah, we do.”

   “Are you free tonight after work?”

   This morning, before I’d left for school, the idea of any evening plans had been terminated. My parents had been forced to attend some charity dance and, being as I lived in the residence and had no plans of my own, I was appointed to watch Vanessa, as my seven year old sister couldn’t just be left alone. This I confessed to Marcel, adding the words, “So it’ll have to be at my house.”

   After work, he gave me a ride home. All through dinner, Vanessa continued to refer to Marcel as “Veronica’s boyfriend,” purely to annoy me. Each time she said it however, I hissed quietly in her ear, just a bit more menacingly every time, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

   Since we’d gotten home, the Marcel I’d seen in the gym and the hall before math yesterday had disappeared, and had been replaced with his polite, nerdy side. Despite being decked in leather and riding a motorcycle on a whim, the newly turned bad boy still made a positive impression on my family.

   When supper ended, my parent’s sent Vanessa up to her room to finish her homework and my father and Marcel retreated to the living room. My mother held me back in the kitchen to “help her do the dishes.” The translation for this being, obviously, she wanted me away from Marcel, leaving my father to test my friend when he was without me.

   “So Marcel is pretty cute,” my mother remarked in a purr, looking through the arch to the living room as she handed me a wet plate to dry.

   “Well his brother is Harry Styles,” I muttered, “And puberty hits their family harder than that bus hit Regina George.”

   My mother let out an amused sighed, giggle at my accurate Mean Girls reference. Her brown eyes travelled over to the two in the living room as Marcel’s laugh and my father’s gruff chuckle floated in. “I know this sounds cliché, considering we watched ever Twilight movie together,” she began again, “But he looks at you like he’s willing to take a bullet to save you.”

   “That’s pretty much the only thing he hasn’t done yet,” I stated, turning my eyes onto the scene in the living room; a simple portrait of an undying conversation between Marcel and my father. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.

   “Well, he’s polite and obviously smart if he’s helping you with math. I approve of your friend, and I see no reason why your dad wouldn’t.”

   Though they never saw it, the fact Marcel had already taken my virginity was a pretty big one.

   We finished quickly and I took Marcel up to my room so we could begin working on my math. However, as per usual, the work barely started before Marcel took the chance and put his lips on mine. My heart fluttered as he lay me on my back and hovered over me.

   “Can we keep this PG?” I asked him, “My parents haven’t even left yet.”

   “And after they leave?”

   “There’s still my sister, and I’m not having ‘the talk’ with her.”

   His dimpled grin just grew wider and his lips pressed to mine again. At least I knew not every study session would have to end in the no strings attached sex. After all, we were only friends and nothing more. We worked together – not that anyone knew – went to school together and had only ever slept together twice meaninglessly. There was nothing going on besides an interesting friendship, and this next step of allowing him to meet my family was merely so my parents would know the person responsible for my passing algebra.