Disclaimer: The Mediator Series belongs to Meg Cabot; therefore, I do not own them.

I am so sorry about the long wait guys! But, hey, at least I'm updating now, aren't I? We're almost there; just a couple more chapters and we are done.

So here it is…the chapter you have all been waiting for. ;)

Chapter 15

Look, it's not everyday that your boyfriend, let me correct that, EX-boyfriend suddenly comes back to your life, just like that. (Just pretend to snap your fingers, okay?)

I mean, even I didn't know he'd come back. I thought he was going to stay in New York forever. How was I to know that his grandfather apparently lives in Carmel also? Oh yeah, and let's not forget the showing off thing.

Yeah, that's him alright: a show off and a teacher's pet.

A good-looking one though.

Pfft, right. Don't get me wrong, Paul is good-looking and all, but you know, we're comparing him to Jesse man. If I had to choose, I'd choose Jesse over Paul any time.

What can I say about Paul? Well, for one thing, he's a jerk. Second, he may be bright and charming, but he's not the nicest person in the world. You get what I'm saying?

And how could I forget that he speaks Spanish fluently and perfectly? Oh, of course he does! Stupid of me, that was why I agreed to come over to his house.

Not because my feelings for him are coming back, of course not, hell no. I'm totally devoted to Jesse, the one and only. But because I needed help, okay? HELP. Help with my Spanish homework since Senorita Croce doesn't like me very mucho (See? I can totally understand Spanish…a little–ha-ha right, okay going away now).

That was why I started getting jumpy when I was walking to my locker along with Adam and CeeCee because Cee, out of nowhere, asked me, "Suze, is it okay if Adam and I come over to your house after school to discuss what to do with the student council money?"

"Yeah," Adam contributed.

I didn't know what to say so I started to say, "Uh–" but was interrupted by Paul. I turned around and saw him sitting in his car.

"Yo, Simon, come on, we need to go over your Spanish homework," Paul shouted whilst rolling down the car window. "If you don't get your butt here I'm leav–"

"What are you going to do with Paul Slater?" Adam asked, tuning out Paul, in an over-protective tone. Trust Adam to say something like this.

"Shut up, Adam," CeeCee said absurdly, "Suze needs help with her Spanish homework so she asked the new guy. Right, Suze?"

"Huh? Oh yeah…right you are."

There was something about the way she said it that kind of ticked me off. But I decided to let it pass.

"Oh, okay, then. I have to go; I'll meet you at the car Cee! Bye, Suze!" Adam said, leaving to walk towards the parking lot. She blushed.

"Why don't you just ask him out already?" I asked CeeCee, who was still blushing furiously.

"Huh, what were you saying?" she looked at me with a bewildered look on her face.

"I said, why don't you ask Adam out already? It's so obvious you two are made for each other."

"Is it really?" she asked in disbelief, her violet eyes opened wide.

I nodded.

"B…but Suze, I can't! He doesn't even like me!"

"Yes he does," I said, tiredly.

"Suze, get in the car or I'm leaving without you!" Paul shouted again. I understood him the first time, gosh, how many times does he have to repeat that 'get in the car or I'm leaving without you' line.

"Look Cee, he does like you," I said. "We'll talk more about it later but I have to go."

She looked at Paul and eyed his car.

"He must be pretty rich," she said. "I guess it's not over between you two?" she cocked a brow.

"WHAT? Of course it is, over us, I mean. Yes, ugh! Whatever, I have to go; I'll call you later once I get home, okay?" I said, slowly backing away.

"Fine, later!" she replied with a sigh.

»»»»»»»»»

"Took you long enough," Paul muttered when I got inside his car.

"Well, excuse me; you were the one who invited me to your house," I retorted. Seriously, the guy was getting on my last nerves. "I just had some last…errands…to…do."

Okay, so I might have been a bit mean to him. I should be thankful right? That he was helping me with my Spanish homework? Wrong. Because no matter what, I can never forget, no matter how hard I try, what he tried to force me to do before, back in New York.

"Fine, let's go," he said and started driving.

It was the longest drive I've ever been in even though it was merely 15 minutes from the Mission and his grandfather's place. He didn't even try the small talk with me, unlike other guys, which was weird. But hey, that's Paul: weird.

He parked the car in the driveway and got out of the car to open the door for me. Which is you know, really sweet, but no, I'm not starting to like him again.

Just because he opened the door for me and is acting like a gentleman doesn't mean that my feelings for him are coming back.

Okay? It's just not, coming back, I mean.

"We're here," he said, grinning down at me. "Come on." He took my hand and helped me out of his car.

"Yes, we are," I whispered in awe. The house was made of GLASS. No wonder it was so cold. I wondered how they can survive in it. I mean, sure they get a very nice view, nicer than the view from my bay window. But hey, whatever floats their boat, right?

"You like?" Paul asked with a smirk.

Gosh. Could he be anymore lamer? You like? I mentally mocked him.

Ugh. That's just it. He's always smirking at me as if he finds my being amusing. He is such an arrogant asshole and always will be. I've had it enough with the smirks and all that showing off.

So I did what any girl would do. I gave him the cut eyes.

I guess it startled him and it almost made me laugh. Almost.

"What, what did I do?" he asked with his mouth hanging open.

I sighed and shook my head. "Nothing, never mind," Guys. They'll never get it.

Jesse. He understands though. But not really…why you ask? Well, I haven't been feelings his presence lately, only from time to time but not like before…not ever since our first kiss.

Could he not reciprocate my feelings for him? No…that's not true. He loves me. He does. I felt it when we kissed…but how could he not tell me those three words I've been dying to hear?

The sound of the door being unlocked brought me back to my senses.

I looked up and noticed that Paul was looking down at me intently. "You are so beautiful, Simon." I thought I heard him whisper.

I gave a little cough and he was still staring. I gave a louder cough and that brought him back to his senses. "Oh yeah, come in Suze," he said, holding the door open for me as if he just didn't tell me I was beautiful.

"Hm. Thanks," I said, entering the house with my head down since I know that my cheeks are red as tomato. How can he do this to me? Paul, I mean, how can he make me blush without even trying?

I looked up and stood there gaping.

The inside was as beautiful as the outside. Black leather sofa and armchairs were placed in the living room. The floor that was made out of marble was cold when I stepped on it, but pretty expensive looking.

He sure isn't hurting for money. I mean, he's practically living in luxury.

"Sorry about the place, it may not be up to your standards–" Not up to my standards? Are you kidding me? This is high up above my standards, "–but you know, my grandfather has been living alone almost his whole life. So there aren't many…feminine touches around the house."

I couldn't help but ask, "Where's your grandmother?" I don't even know why I asked him that. It's just that I always wondered why he never talked about her.

His smile faltered and I assumed I said the wrong thing.

"You know what? Let's just pretend I didn't say nor ask you anything," I said.

"No, its okay," he said, the smile returning to his face. "My grandmother…well, I vaguely remember her. She died of cancer when I was four. All I remember is that she used to carry me all the time around Central Park. But from what I can recall, she was a beautiful lady. I knew she made my grandfather happy. But when she died, one look at my grandfather and I knew he was lost without her. And I was only four by then."

Wow, I never knew Paul could be so…sweet.

I awkwardly patted his back. "I'm sorry."

He sighed. "Why should you be? You can't miss what you never really knew, right?" He smiled.

"Right," I said, smiling back for the first time since I met him. "So, are you going to help me with my Spanish homework or what?"

He grinned at me. Not a smirk and not a trace of amusement. "I was waiting for you to remind me about that. Of course I'm going to help you. Go on upstairs, to my room, the second door to the left. I'll just go to the kitchen and get us some snacks, alright?"

I nodded and started walking up the stairs.

»»»»»»»»»

"Okay, I guess Spanish must be hard for you. Let's make this easier," Paul said whilst stretching his legs. "Do you know the language, Tagalog? You know, Filipinos?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I have a friend back in New York who's Filipino. What about it?

"Well, it's almost the same as Spanish," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It is?"

"Yeah, you never knew that? Well, yeah. A bit, anyways. Most of the words mean and are pronounced the same," Paul said. "So if you say la mesa or mesa in Tagalog, which means table by the way, Spaniards will think the same thing–"

"I get it…a bit anyways. I mean, I've heard her talk, my Filipino friend. I just never really understood much. Do you know it?" I interrupted.

"Of course,"

"Humph, I don't believe you. Prove it."

"Okay…what do you want me to say?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Say: Where are you?"

He sighed. "Okay then, here it goes–" and he said, "–Nasaan ka na?"

I looked at him wide-eyed. "Whoa."

"But that doesn't necessarily mean that it's the same in Spanish. I'm just showing you an example, so um yeah," Paul said. "Yeah yeah. So do you get the homework now?"

I looked at the sheet that was in front of me. "Yeah, thanks to you."

I don't know what happened, I guess it was just a moment between us, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself hugging…hugging Paul, his arms encircling my waist.

I coughed. "Hm. Sorry about that," I said shyly, pulling away from him. "You think you can drop me home now? Andy, my step dad, and my mom doesn't like it when I'm late for dinner."

He scratched his head. "Uh yeah, sure. Meet me in the car. Just let me go get my kiss–I mean keys. Yeah," he stood up and left.

There ya go. Now, please review! They mean a lot to me.

- Claudine