Chapter 2
This chapter could get a little weird. If something's in brackets( [ ] ) it just means their speaking in French. Enjoy!
At the tug of a large hand on my arm I turn around.
It's Lafayette.
"Uh… um… I just. You seem angered. I thought to help."
His french accent was thick.
"[Would you rather speak in French?]"
His eyes went wide, "[You speak French?]"
"[Yes, my mother taught me when I was young.]"
"[You speak well, your mother must be smart.]"
"[She was, she died when I was nine.]"
"[I'm sorry, she must have been lovely.]"
"[She was beautiful, smart, really amazing.]"
"[I would ask if your sisters spoke, but I have a feeling you have a little resentment towards them.]"
"[Well, you've been in a conversation with them, what do you think?]"
"[They are a little aggressive towards you. Or, how do I put it, abusive.]"
"[Yeah, and did you see them both eyeing Alexander, I've seen this before, the aftermath of this will not be pretty.]"
"[You want to know something even uglier?]"
"[Of course.]"
"[Alexander, won't be into either of them if you know what I mean?]"
"[I'm not getting it.]"
"[Alexander, he is gay.]" My eyes go wide as I squeal a little bit.
"[You're kidding!]"
"[Honest truth.]"
"[This is great, should I tell them?]"
"[No you might be able to have a little fun.]"
"[Hey, we're almost at my house, you should stay for dinner, my father would love having someone to make up for my sister's horrendous absence.]"
"[I would hate to think I was imposing.]"
"[Oh, please, I insist.]"
The rest of the way to the house was filled with light pleasant conversation with us getting to know each other better, and by the time we reach my house, I feel like I've known him for years.
"[Here it is, my humble abode.]"
"[I would hardly call this humble.]"
He was right, the house was pretty large, seven bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, maybe it was a little excessive.
"[Well, the government treats their war heros well.]"
"[I would hope so.]"
"[Come, my father will be delighted to meet you.]"
With that I race up the cobblestone walkway to the dark wood french doors and push the left one open and step inside.
"Daddy, I'm home."
"In the kitchen!" He yelled back.
"[Come, he's in the kitchen.]"
"[I got that.]" We laugh at each other as I lead him to the kitchen where my father was at the stove wearing a bright pink apron that said 'kiss the cook.'
"Daddy, we've a guest. And, he would prefer if you could speak in french, he's an exchange student."
"[But of course, and to whom do I have the pleasure of welcoming into my home this evening?]"
"[My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, but most people just call me Lafayette.]"
My father looks at me, "[did I miss the Lafayette in the name?]"
Lafayette laughs a little, "[No sir, in France, my official title is Marquis de Lafayette. A bit extravagant for my tastes, though.]"
The tree of us share a laugh and a look then my father turns to me, "Where are your sisters? I thought they would be home tonight?]" The disappointment was evident in his voice.
Lafayette spoke up before I got the chance, "[I'm afraid that your other lovely daughters have taken a liking to my friends and they have gotten a little preoccupied.]"
"[That sounds like my daughters.]"
"[A few of them I would say.]"
Lafayette's words came with a pointed look and smirk to me.