You Can Be My Simba

“Just be quiet okay” France asked as we walked through his front door. I obliged, and tip-toed after France who seemed to be wincing at every sound, upon reaching the stairs Francis smiled, happy that he had escaped his parents.

“France?” Yelled a familiar voice, I laughed at France and turned round to face Mrs. McAllister; a frown crawled across her face as she looked down at our entwined hands.

“Hi” Mumbled France looking at the ground and shuffling his feet.

“Hey Pauline” I replied, smiling up at the women, trying hard to keep my confidence.

“It’s Mrs. McAllister to you” her frown deepened as I smiled

“Ok, Hi Mrs. McAllister” I corrected. A look of confusion took over her face as she hobbled towards us. She pulled France away from me disconnecting our hands in the process and dragged him over to the living room.

“I need to talk to you” I heard her mumble as France protested. It wasn’t long till they were in the living room with the door closed. I knew what they were talking about but I didn’t really want to think about it. I looked around the hall and took in the very familiar scenery. Yellow walls, wooden floor, shoes littered the floor and a chair sat by the phone. I sighed and took a seat, looking up at the walls which appeared to be covered in memories. I smiled as I studied the picture of France and Kayleigh. Considering the sandy floor and the blue sky I figured they were at a beach, Kayleigh sat peacefully on the rug with France sat comfortable on her lap, she was smiling at the boy who was hugging her neck. Francis’ smile shone through the picture and made my insides tingle. He looked so cute at that age and still does now.

“It’s just a phase Francis” I heard Pauline yell, The living room wasn’t that far away so it was easy to eavesdrop through the thin walls.

“That’s bull!” France yelled back. I took my attention from my surrounding and concentrated on the door, looking so hard so that I might actually be able to see through the wooden material.

“Don’t speak to me like that!” a few other words were mumbled before more yelling took place

“A fling? Seriously! You think I’d have a fling with Casper!” my insides tingled at the sound of my own name, it felt so right having it said by France, not by Pauline

“Casper is just trash Francis! He’s trash” ouch

“Don’t call him that! You have no idea how I feel and you have no right to choose who I date!”

“Yes I do! As long as you live in this house! And I defiantly don’t want you dating that vile boy!” my eyes diverted to the floor, I felt wrong to be looking at the door, I shouldn’t be listening to this conversation.

“He is not a vile boy! He is amazing! He doesn’t deserve this shit, never mind from school!” No matter how hard France fought back I still felt like rubbish, Pauline doesn’t like me and there is nothing I can do to change her mind.

“There is nothing good about that family Francis; they are a bunch of skanks and I don’t want you involving with them” my insides crumbled, I didn’t know she hated my family. How can she say something like that? So we have a bad past, that doesn’t give her the right to judge us. I didn’t hear anything after that; they went quite, leaving me to dwell in my own pity. I stood up from the chair and walked over to the front door, contemplating with my self if I should leave or not, I didn’t want to be where I’m not wanted. I’m sure France will understand. I mean I’ll call him when I think the argument is finished, although I’m not sure we’ll be a couple any more once they leave the room. Pauline is a very convincing woman and France doesn’t do well under pressure

“Fuck off” the masculine voice yelled. My head shot up as the shouting poured underneath the living room door once again.

“It’s rubbish! All of it France, rubbish!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“You are not getting further involved with that family and that’s final!”

“Well too bad because I fucking love him!” Whoa! Did France just say what I think he said, does he…love me? No, I must have heard him wrong. France can’t love me, I mean come on I come from a skanky family. I’m a complete wuss who moans all the time.

I managed to ignore the rest of the argument with my own thoughts until I heard a door being slammed open. My instincts told me to run to the kitchen so I did, sitting quietly down on one of the chairs to the island. I kept my head low as Pauline walked into the kitchen and slammed her fists into the island making me jump.

“You’ll never be accepted into this family” she whispered. I picked up some confidence and looked up to see her angry face. She appeared to be trying to calm herself down, but I being here wasn’t helping her. I was about to reply when France stormed into the kitchen. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through his house and outside, keeping silent the whole time.

We didn’t say anything as he hurriedly walked down the street, his hand wrapped tightly around my bandaged wrist.

“Ouch” I muttered as he hanked my arm so I became closer to him, he’d stopped at a road and frantically looked left and right before once again dragging me across the street and into an alley way which was a short cut to my house. His grip became tighter as he walked faster and faster down the alley way. “Ouch” I repeated, I swung my other arm forward and tried to move his fingers from my wrist, he noticed my attempt and stopped in his tracks, turning to face me glaring. “France get off please” my voice was quiet and scared at this boy in front of me.

“Why?” he replied. This wasn’t France, this was someone else, I didn’t like this person and I was beginning to become creeped out,

“Because you’re hurting me” his eyes softened as he gazed down at me, I kept my eyes upon his and waited until his grip loosened and he let go. My arm dropped by my side but I ignored it and focused on France, who’s expression had turned from creepy to vulnerable in a matter of seconds.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, his eyes becoming wet, he sidetracked his eyes to the ground and carefully wiped away his tears. Without even thinking I wrapped him into a hug, letting him cry onto my shoulder.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My mum was sat at the table when France and I walked in, she looked up from the magazine she was reading and smiled at us until she noticed the pot on my arm. I spent about an hour lying to my mother, telling her I was being careless when skateboarding (which I haven’t done since I was 12.) She seemed to believe me and started ranting about her day and what how she just loves her job. It’s her first ever real job, apart from the little ones that she had when she was a teen so she seems excited about it everyday. She’s been working there for about 2 years now and every day she comes home smiling. It’s great to see her so happy. She used to come home sad and out of place with her old job. Prostitution. When I was five years old my parents went though a rough patch, they started arguing over everything and one day my biological father just got up and left. He quit his job and went abroad, leaving my mother to care for a child. She had no idea what to do, she had no qualifications so she couldn’t get a good job, and that’s why she became a prostitute, she hated it so much but it was the only way she could earn money. One day she met Saul; (my dad now) and he helped her get back on her feet, they became good friends and he lent her money every now and then. Eventually they started dating and ended up getting married once I was seven. Hannah was born a year later and the rest is history; The McAllister thinks we are skanks and no doubt do the rest of the neighbourhood just because my mother was in desperate need of money.

“France, you staying over?” My mother asked, taking me away from my train of thoughts.

“Yeah” France replied, a smile forming at his lips, I smiled back and remembered this evening…France had stuck up for me and said…he loved me. Without even thinking I climbed onto my tip-toes and kissed him right on the mouth, it was an innocent kiss that escalated into a firey romantic kiss. Little tongue was used and it ended quicker than I liked but it was still a perfect moment that would be added to my list.

bang bang bang

We all turned our heads towards the door which my dad was heading towards, we were silent as the person on the other side started shouting. Before my dad could say anything, the person barged straight past him and walked into the house,

“Dad?” France questioned.