French Kisses

The next morning I woke up with my head still on Gerard’s shoulder. I looked up to see that he was still asleep, then glanced at the clock over his other shoulder to see that it was almost ten o’clock. Panicking that Gerard had overslept and missed his practice, I shook him awake. “Gerard! Wake up, you missed your practice!”

He didn’t even bother opening his eyes. “Oh I called in sick this morning, don’t worry about it.”

Though I was momentarily confused by the fact that a professional soccer player “called in sick” in the same manner that someone who works a 9 to 5 office job would, I didn’t comment on it. “You’re not going to get in trouble?”

“I haven’t used a sick day in years, I’m sure everyone will be completely okay and understanding, even if they do come to their own conclusions about why I wasn’t there. Which I’m sure they will,” still not having opened his eyes, I was fairly impressed that he knew where I was sitting well enough that he could wrap his arm around my shoulders and pull me back down.

“But I don’t want to be the reason that you get in trouble with your coach!” My conscience simply would not let this go.

“Nicole. I will duct tape your mouth shut if you don’t calm down. I’ll be totally fine, Pep has been saying how hard I’ve been working and it’s been showing. If he reprimands me for skipping one short practice, I will let you know. I promise.”

“I doubt it.”

“Yeah I probably won’t. But it’s really not a big deal. Well, since you’re apparently not going back to sleep anytime soon, I guess we can get up. What would you like for breakfast?” He rolled, almost literally, off the bed, and it wasn’t until then that I realized he had changed out of what he had been wearing when I fell asleep last night. Impressive that he managed to get up, change, and come back without my waking up, considering I’m a very light sleeper.

“Something super Spanish,” I replied, following his example, though I’m sure I looked a lot less graceful doing it. That was one of the things that amazed me about Gerard - he was such a large man but still managed to be more graceful than almost anyone else I knew. I allowed him to get a head start downstairs while I showered and changed into some shorts, a simple white v neck and a turquoise knit cardigan before heading downstairs into the kitchen, where I was greeted with the delicious aroma of café con leche and sweet rolls - a typical Spanish breakfast.

“I’m sure you know by now that breakfast isn’t exactly the biggest meal of the day in Spanish culture, but I thought this would be good,” Gerard said, turning towards me with a cup of the delicious drink, adding a sweet roll next to it within the next minute. “I’ve actually been told this is my specialty, so you should be honored.”

“Oh I am, believe me. Nobody ever makes me food at home,” I replied before taking a sip. Holy shit, this is amazing I thought to myself. I was almost hesitant to try the roll, not wanting to become addicted to it. “So what are your plans for today, Mr. Rule Breaker?”

He smiled at the nickname and joined me at the breakfast table with his own cup of coffee and a roll. “Well, since I haven’t had the chance to show you around myself, I thought I’d take the liberty of doing so today. Do you have anything in mind that you’d like to see?”

I thought for a second, but knew what I wanted to see first and foremost. “La Sagrada Familia,” I answered. The basilica was designed by architect Antoni Gaudí in the 1800s, and was one of the most impressive displays of architecture in the world - or, so I’d been told. “Other than that, I’m sure wherever we go will be amazing.”

He nodded in agreement. “Well then, we’d better get going if we want to fit all the sites in today.”

“Whoa now, we don’t have to go to them all today, we have to space them out. What if I run out of things to do while you’re off at soccer?” I joked, placing my cup in the dishwasher after rinsing it out.

He laughed. “Okay, okay, we’ll space out the tourist attractions. If I’m feeling nice, I might even show you around the local spots as well.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Two hours later, we were standing in front of what was easily the most gorgeous building I’d ever seen in my life. Nothing anyone had ever told me about it even came close to the grandeur and intricacy of the edifice. Though it still hasn’t been finished, I knew it would surely be somehow even more stunning in 2041, when it’s expected to be finished. It took us hours to walk through because of my insistence on stopping and staring and or reading any and everything in there, though Gerard didn’t seem to mind. He simply stood back and let me take my pictures and bask in the architecture.

“Are you an architect?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No, though I wanted to be one when I was little. I used to design houses all the time, but I decided seven years of architecture school was more than I could bear.”

“So then what are you?” He asked quietly, as we’d spotted a small group praying a little ways away.

“I’m a model,” I replied, glancing at him to pick up on any change in expression. I quickly realized that my gaze probably wasn’t the kindest one and made myself relax. Usually everyone looks down on models, thinking we’re too stupid to get a real education and not bothering to ask whether we’re getting our education simultaneously. “I also take college classes online.”

 He nodded, shifting his gaze back up to the ceiling. “I can see that.”

“See what?” I looked up to the ceiling as well, assuming that was what he was talking about.

“You modeling. You’re clearly beautiful enough,” he said this so simply that it seemed like he was just commenting on something as mundane as the weather.

Though yes, I received compliments on my looks frequently, something about how casually he said it and yes, the fact that it was him, made my cheeks blush. I turned away, hoping that he didn’t notice, and said a quiet ‘thank you’. Though he pretended not to notice, I could still see the lingering smirk as he continued forward in our tour of the Cathedral.

“Hungry?” Gerard asked as we headed back toward the car after going to see the Arc de Triomf.

“Sure,” I agreed, allowing him to make the executive decision of either making something to eat at home or going out. He quickly made the decision to take me to was was apparently the “best restaurant in existence” - one that only the locals who really got around and knew people went to or knew about.

“My friend Mikio only opened his restaurant once the economy started to get worse. You have to have a password and everything, because it’s not technically legal I don’t think,” he saw my expression change to one of apprehension, but quickly said, “Don’t worry, the food is incredible, and I’m pretty sure that I’ve seen off duty policías there before. It’s so good that no one actually does anything about getting it shut down.”

I decided to live and let live and followed Gerard from his newly reparked car towards the restaurant. I had to admit I was a little nervous - not because of the food, but because of all the sketchy people we were passing. I had heard about Barcelona’s crime rate before I left the United States, and I was beginning to get a glimpse of what people were talking about.

“Scared?” He offered a small smile.

“No,” I stood up a little straighter at this comment and tried to look like I wasn’t freaking out inside.

He responded by putting his arm around my waist, which I had to admit was a little comforting. As we kept walking I did notice that fewer of the passerby stared me in the eye, and some didn’t look up at all. Though I wasn’t completely sure how I felt about his arm around me, I did appreciate the effect it had on other people. Except, apparently for a small group of a few guys who seemed in their low twenties, who yelled catcalls and other vile things, mostly directed at me, but some also towards Gerard and insulting him. Though because they were yelling in Catalan, which I didn’t know a word of, I only knew they were insults because I felt his grip on my waist tighten.

I didn’t really know what to say, so I decided to say nothing, and it wasn’t until we arrived at the door and a small part of the door slid to the side, revealing a small part of a man’s face. He seemed to have some sort of Asian heritage in addition to his Spanish one, and his expression changed to one of excitement as he realized who was on the other side of the door.

“Gerard!”

“Hola, Mikio!”

The door opened immediately to reveal a very small room, surely big enough for no more than twenty people, and that would be pushing it. It was, however, extremely cozy and warm. Mikio showed us to an empty table, speaking all the while in rapid Catalan with Gerard. I just sat back and watched and tried to tell what they were saying until I gave up and tried to make out what the menu said. I very quickly gave that up as well, deciding to let Gerard pick me out something.

“I am so incredibly rude. Mikio, this is Nicole. Nicole, Mikio,” Gerard introduced us. I smiled and offered my hand for him to shake, but Mikio apparently took it differently and took my hand and kissed it before kissing both my cheeks.

They’re all very...friendly. I commented to myself, smiling all the while. He and Gerard exchanged a few more words before Mikio left to go attend to other guests and grab us some drinks. “This place is so cute,” I commented.

He smiled and agreed. “I don’t get to come here often, so it always feels like Mikio and I haven’t seen each other for years when it’s really only been a few months. I actually usually come here alone. That’s part of why he was so excited, I think.” It took me a moment to come to the same conclusion that Mikio apparently had. Thankfully I didn’t think I blushed, but it was still kind of awkward, especially considering we had only been on truly friendly terms for a very short while. “Don’t worry, I sorted him out.”

I nodded and continued to look around and people watch.

“I told him you’re a prostitute,” he told me, completely stone faced.

I stared at him in shock. “You did not. And he believed you?!”

He just laughed. “Calm down, tranquile. I’m just kidding, of course I didn’t tell him that. I told him you and Leigh are visiting for a while. I think he’s been thinking I’m a monk or something, he always comments on the lack of female presence whenever I come.”

I just shook my head and drank a sip of my water. “Seriously though, thank you for today. It’s been a lot of fun, and I really appreciate it.”

He just smiled and nodded once. “You’re very welcome, anytime.”