Just Say Yes

Gage roughly ran his hand through his already tousled hair. He grabbed his backpack from his side and lifted it up to peer into it. Clumsily rummaging through the bag, he reached in for a pack of cigarettes. Setting one in between his lips, he silently cursed as he realized he had forgotten a lighter.

Glancing around the high school campus, he zoned in on the first person he saw. Sauntering over to him, he removed the cigarette from his mouth and stared at a boy leaning lazily against a tree and staring at nothing in particular.

"Do you have a lighter?" he asked.

The boy across from him shifted as his soft blonde hair ruffled slightly and he turned to meet Gage's eyes.

"Je ne parle pas anglais. Je suis un étudiant de transfert de France. Désolé. Au revoir," he said, his voice thick with a French accent.

The boy's body fluidly removed itself from the tree he had been leaning on, and Gage silently watched as he walked away. Gage sighed to himself, and began repeating the sentence that the boy had blurted out to him. He had spoken so abruptly and quickly that it took Gage a minute to register he was speaking in a different language. Luckily, the boy spoke in simple terms, so even though Gage did not speak he French he could piece together what the boy was saying.

A transfer student from France? He shrugged, he hadn't heard about one coming to their academy. He attended a private school that was very intimate; therefore everybody always knew each other's business. It was slightly odd that he hadn't heard about a French transfer student. Especially one so pretty.

Gage sent his gaze towards the boy who continued to recede into the distance. The boy had blonde hair that seemed to be an array of colors - light blonde, with golden honey blonde undertones. In the sun, it also became evident that the boy's hair had a slight strawberry blonde look to it. His hair was also loosely curled, and reached slightly below his chin. Gage idly thought how pretty it was.

Annoyed at realization he still had no lighter, he grudgingly threw his cigarette on the ground without bothering to find a proper trash can for it. He had just spent a rather harrowing hour in a classroom full of morons who couldn't comprehend incredibly simple concepts. He found himself getting more and more frustrated with his classmates daily, and began smoking more because of it.

Didn't this school pride themselves on having students who were incredibly intelligent? What was the use of a private school that let in morons? Ah, but, Gage had forgotten - you didn't have to be intelligent to get into this school. All you had to do was be incredibly rich. He scoffed while thinking about all the rich people who didn't need to work to get things they wanted.

Glancing at the clock tower, he let out an annoyed sigh as he realized that lunch time was over. Great, another few hours of putting up with more daft students. Just what he looked forward to every day.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and casually strolled towards the science hall. He entered his physics classroom and took a seat near the back where he was accustomed to sitting by now. He wasn't antisocial, but during class time he wanted to make sure he was able to focus on the lectures, so he opted for the seat with the least human contact.

The day seemed to go on far too slowly than it should have. Gage had been battling with himself for what seemed like hours to stay awake. He had been so tired that morning, after staying up all night writing and working on homework and projects. He seemed to be one of the only students in the entire school who actually cared about his grades and working hard. It wasn't surprising, considering the rest of the students could have mommy and daddy pay for anything they wanted in the long run. Gage had a complex about people who didn't have to work for things they got, it seemed.

---

Relieved that the day was finally over, Gage began his walk back to his apartment. As he recalled the day's events, he thought about the French boy and how standoffish he had seemed. Gage's eyes shifted upwards as he thought about what he would do that afternoon. Before heading back, he decided to make one quick pit stop.

Since he lived in an apartment complex, he wasn't very far from an area that was jam packed with shops. He had easy access to groceries, books, knick knack shops, and numerous other stores. The only time he ever really came over to the area was when he needed food, as he didn't have much time for "lollygagging around" with all of his homework. The only reason Gage attended his private school was because of a scholarship - and if he didn't keep his grades up, there was no way in hell he could even fathom trying to pay for it.

A tiny bell rang above Gage as he entered a quaint book store. It reminded him of the bookshop that Belle had entered in the beginning of Beauty in the Beast. Except there was no cute ladder, or cute little old man to talk to. Gage surveyed the room, and when he found what he was looking for he headed towards the section. Foreign languages.

Earlier, he had decided that since The (nameless) French Boy did not speak English, he would learn to speak French instead. He was intelligent enough that learning a language would probably not be very difficult for him, not to the mention the fact that he had a very good memory.

He scrutinized the books for several minutes, reading the backs and a few pages from the insides to make sure he was getting the best material for the price. He was very conscience of the amount of money he spent. Finally, he decided on a book of simple French phrases, plus a French dictionary. It would do for now, and if he decided to pursue speaking the language he could always come back for more.

Taking his two items to the front, he placed them on the counter and tapped the bell marked "ring for service" far too many times than necessary. An old woman appeared from behind a bookshelf, with ratty grey hair and a missing front tooth. She was tiny and unruly looking.

The woman opened her mouth, "you know, Gage, you don't have to ring that fucking bell 50 times. I'm not deaf."

"Yet," he smiled at her sweetly. Like he said, there was no cute little old man to talk to.

He had been in this store many times, but hardly ever bought anything. He also didn't particularly enjoy reading, but sometimes he would come to read philosophy books. His school didn't offer the class, so he took up reading about it as a hobby. He convinced himself it wasn't a waste of time, because it was solely for learning purposes.

The little old woman had grown impatient with his mooching, constantly nagging at him to 'buy a damn book' instead of being a leech. He would always just smile and give her a smart ass comment back. In Gage's eyes, it was a waste to buy something you could read for free. Even if the price of reading it was constant nagging.

"I see your opening that tight ass wallet of yours and actually buying something today," she said as she snatched the books from the counter.

Flipping the books over a few times she raised an eyebrow and looked at Gage. "French? So now you're interested in French? Wouldn't learning another language be more appropriate and beneficial - perhaps Chinese? No one even speaks French anymore."

Gage rolled his eyes. "Ah, I finally come in to purchase an item and you're trying to talk me out of it? Very well," he said as he began grabbing the books from her. She clung to them and pulled them back forcefully.

"No, no," she hurried her speech. "It just surprised me. You can buy whatever you want," she said.

She quickly rang the books up as if in fear Gage would change his mind and decide not to buy anything. Gage handed her the money that he owed her. He grabbed his books without giving her the chance to put them in a bag, stating it would have been wasteful to give him a bag he had no use for.

As he walked out, he opened one of the books and his gaze became intent and serious. Gracefully walking out of the door while still reading, he rang the service bell a few more times and scurried away. How he loved messing with that little old woman.

---

Upon returning to his apartment, Gage threw his backpack aside as he slipped his shoes off. Still clutching the French books to his chest, he wandered over to his kitchen and sat atop a checkered cover stool. Before he began studying French, he thought it would be a good idea to make some coffee to keep himself alert.

His long fingers reached above him to grab the edge of a chalk brown cabinet, as the shirt he was wearing shifted slightly above his brown colored stomach. Straining himself slightly, he finally snatched the coffee out of the cabinet and brought it back down to look at it. Colombian coffee. Perfect. Gage had come to the conclusion that all other coffees were far inferior to Colombian coffee, and so he took to only drinking it.

He reluctantly left his seat at the stool to search for a clean mug and some milk. He realized he hadn't done dishes in a while, and pressed his lips together in thought as he realized he'd actually have to wash a mug by hand. Grabbing a scratched black mug out of his dirty dishwasher, he began scrubbing the tiny cup. The scent of apples and soap filled the air around him, and he began to let his thoughts wander. Somehow doing menial tasks such as washing dishes always gave him the perfect opportunity to think.

Gage mechanically moved his arm up and down in scrubbing motions as his thoughts completely engulfed him. For some reason, he couldn't keep his mind off of The French Boy. He began to wonder what his name was and started listing off the only French names he knew, which weren't many. Finally, he decided on Claude. He wondered what Claude did in his free time and if he was having trouble learning English or getting around. He thought about the reasons for him transferring to America and an English school. But really, he mostly thought about how pretty the boy had been.

Claude's skin tone was soft and milky looking. It was pale, but in a natural looking way. It was clear he could easily become tan, and Gage wondered why he stayed so pale. To match his skin, Claude had strikingly pale green eyes. They were a color that Gage had rarely seen, if ever. His lips had been soft and smooth, their shape and size perfect. They were the same lips that spilled out that calm and velvety voice which spoke a language so foreign to Gage's ear. Gage found himself yearning to hear the fluidity of Claude's speech once more.

Gage pondered the boy a bit more and realized just how strikingly different they were from each other, at least based on looks. Gage's skin was golden brown due to his half-Lebanese descent. He was much taller than Claude, and he felt bulky compared to Claude's slender figure. His eyes, too, differed from Claude's. They were a light coffee brown, and Gage often thought about how dull and plastic they seemed.

Realizing it had been a few minutes and the coffee mug was inevitably clean by now, Gage rinsed the cup out and dried it off with a rag nearby. He poured some milk into the cup, noting how the white against the black made a nice contrast. Stirring just the right amount of coffee in, he placed the mug in the microwave and set the timer.

Impatiently, he stared at the microwave, unmoving for the few minutes it sat in there. He could smell the aroma of caramel and coffee and he practically felt his mouth watering. As soon as he heard the microwave beep, he excitedly opened the door and took a sip of the coffee.

"FUCK!" he shouted as he pulled the mug away from his face, spilling a bit of coffee on the floor.

"Fuck me!," he groaned. He cursed himself more for not waiting until the coffee had cooled down to take a sip.

He slid his tongue out of his mouth and glanced down at it, trying to inspect it for any burns. Frustrated at his lack of ability to see his tongue fully, he slid it back into his mouth and turned his sink back on. Gently cupping his hands together, he let water flow through them and leaned his head forward. Tilting his head and closing his eyes, he put his lips on the flow of water that his hands had created for him and began sipping slowly.

---

Hours had passed and Gage had gone back and forth between doing his Calculus homework, Physics homework, and learning tidbits of French here and there. He had grown more and more frustrated with the realization that learning French wasn't as easy as he thought.

Still, though, he could say a few things to Claude. Things like, "My name is Gage," "how are you?," and so on. Very simple phrases. However, he decided that Claude would be impressed at his will to learn another language. He also decided that Claude would think it was adorable how bad he was at French. Gage had a habit of taking the most ridiculous things and pretending they were cute when he did them. In some twisted way, he was actually charming.

Allowing his body to spontaneously fall onto the floor of his living room, he sprawled out and stared at the ceiling. Day time had somehow slipped into the nighttime during the hours that he had been studying. Gage's living room was filled with darkness, aside from the one tiny lamp he had turned on. He relayed the French words in his head over and over so as not to forget them.

Eventually, listening to himself think of French for so long had become monotonous and he rolled over and his side and slid his eyes shut. Scarce minutes had passed when Gage's soft breathing could be heard and he drifted off into a void of dreams.

---

Hey hey! Sorry this chapter was so short - it was all about Gage and there is only so much I can say about him right now. I promise there will be more interaction in the next chapter! And sorry it was so wordy, again - I didn't have much dialogue to work with. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and will continue reading! *floaty hearts*