Here's chapter three… Let's see how this works out. No offence to anyone named Diane. It was the first name that came to mind.
Chapter Three
"Aw come on babe! We can make this work!" said a desperate Gilbert into his cell phone while Francis and Anya were making bets on when Diane would actually hang up on him.
"I can't wait until the bitch hangs up on him already," mumbled Anya crossing her legs.
"She might be dumb enough to at least try to listen to him," Francis continued.
"I don't think she's that dumb to actually listen to the narcissistic bastard. I mean she has to make money somehow considering Gilbert never chooses to pay whenever they go to a fancy or a tad bit expensive place," the Russian spoke.
"Money doesn't mean she has brains ma chérie(1)."
"Point proven," they heard more chants- no, pleads coming from Gilbert, "But she must have some brains to not spend it all, besides she doubted for some time that his proclaimed five meters didn't exist."
"This time period you speak of Anya existed for a day," the Frenchman said stroking his stubbly chin gently. Anya looked at him for a moment.
"I may sound confused like a foolish American capitalist, but what exactly are you doing?" Francis chuckled.
"I'm stroking my chin like in the movies. Why do you ask? Does it seduce you?" Francis asked leaning closer to Anya and initiating his signature Frenchman laugh. She leaned away slightly and then punched him in the gut…lightly. Francis peeled away and groaned clutching himself.
Gilbert, who seemed to be done with his phone conversation, looked over.
"Fuck! First Napoleon and now Franny! You damn Russian!" the Prussian shouted running over to Francis.
"First of all Gilbert, I am a weak less female and Francis was coming onto me. I don't carry pepper spray to work. Second, I hope you do understand that the Russians had driven out Napoleon and his forces, would you like me to give you a history lesson on the Patriotic War of 1812?"
"Okay, I understand the war. I'm too awesome to have you give me a history lesson on some other country that isn't my awesome country of Prussia. Besides you aren't even a weak female. You are a seven foot two inched man that weighs two hundred pounds, who can make a room below freezing when entering and can kill someone with a punch that is stuck in a woman's body."
"Oh wow Gilbert! I am so proud of you. You actually used decent adjectives and said very long sentences. I'm proud of you! Maybe one of the English teachers can give you a C minus," Anya said as if Gilbert's words just went through her. Francis, who seemed to have been forgotten by the other two groaned. Why did he decide to have coffee breaks with the two when all they did was give him a migraine?
"Alright now, Gilbert could you leave the room for a moment?" asked Francis.
"What? But Franny!"
"Please Gilbert. Just for a minute or two," he continued.
"You're so lame Francis. Whatever, have fun being molested Anya!" Gilbert sang as he left the room. Time to thicken the rumor that started between the students and had been slowly making its way to the staff, about Anya and Francis, Gilbert thought. If he was a little girl he would prance through the hallways, but he's not a little girl and a grown man with a penis five meters long.
Anya gave Francis a confused look. Somewhere very deep in her brain a voice shouted "HE'S GOING TO RAPE YOU!" Obviously the voice was just as stupid as Gilbert.
"Now that he's gone, can I ask you for a favor?" questioned Francis. Anya nodded.
"Well it's not exactly a favor…but you wouldn't mind being set up on a blind date, correct?"
"…"
"Perfect! I set you up already. And before you ask he isn't some loser and can fit up to your Soviet Papa's(3) standards. The date is tonight and I already reserved a place for the two of you. I'll text you the location later. Be there 6:30. Au revior(2)!" He left the room. Anya was left there stunned.
She sighed blowing hair out of her face. Francis had told her she was going to a seafood restaurant in Manhattan. This little information would be able to help her pull off a decent look. She pulled on a pair of grey skinny jeans and a black off shoulder sweater and wrapped her signature scarf around her neck. She put on a pair of black pumps and was planning on wearing her tan shearling coat over the outfit. Anya put the full food bowl and a bowl almost overflowing with water down for Maxim and had walked him before getting ready.
She looked over at the sleeping puppy that was curled up in his bed and would be for some time. Grinning, Anya grabbed her car keys and purse and pulled on her shearling. She locked the door after turning off the lights and soon left her apartment. Looking at her cell phone she plugged the address into her GPS and started heading onto her destination.
Short chapter is short. Next chapter will be more Matthew. I was going to put the date into this chapter, but I have an exam tomorrow and it was time to rest.
1) My dear (French)
2) Good bye (French)
3) I got this from Potap and Nastya's song Ne para. Anyway you'll see Anya's "Soviet Papa" in later chapters :)
I can picture Anya doing the skinny jeans dance and making it look like folk dance. It probably came to mind because I was listening to Rasputin by Boney M and it was the beginning of the song when I wrote that sentence.