Sexts → Gerard Piqué

Jackie

Just wanted to show y'all my Piqué jersey & shit. Lmao. 😂😂
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Me : what should I save your name as?

Was he even going to answer? It has been a while since him and I have started talking, and I think it's pretty comical that I don't know his name.

Why on earth was he so evasive?

After two minutes of prolonged wait, my phone dinged. My phone? More like Louise's.

Daddy kink : Geri :)

Me : That's your name?

Daddy kink : Yes.

Me : What's your full name? Come on, you know mine!

Daddy kink : I don't, baby girl.

Me : seriously? You do!

Daddy kink : If you tell me that 'Jackie' is your formal name, you'd clearly be lying, love.

Daddy kink : Buenos noches ;)

He couldn't be that hell of a smart arse, could he? Of course, he could— my bad.

Geri— such a weird nickname for a man. What could his formal name be?

Gregor?

Gael?

Gianluca?

Gunner?

Gerard?

I blushed at the thought of the last name— it couldn't be Gerard; that was utterly impossible.

I needed to find out more about him, somehow– but it was totally unfeasible. I'm not a part of the FBI either, so at least I couldn't do so using his cellular number.

Such a miserable life I had.

•••

Tomorrow was Christmas, a.k.a one of the most rigged festivals of the year. School was off for three days— yes, just three days, because there were a lot of holidays in between semesters; all because the principal decided to rebuilt the main buildings of the school.

Therefore, our winter break was cut short to just two four days— Christmas, New Year, and New Year's Eve. See what I mean when I say that my life is depressing?

I shivered as the cold winter wind brushed the strands of hair off my face. I was returning the books on Thermodynamics to the school library that I had borrowed for the physics assignment that I had to put forward today.

I watched as the pesky, old librarian, Mrs. Lévesque scuttled over to the window, attempting to close it. The rusty window creaked, as another gush of wind blew away the old woman's checkered woollen scarf into the Literature section— yet, the window did not close.

I impatiently tapped the wooden desk, waiting for the woman to return and collect my books; I was getting late for a certain someone's class.

Yes, Mr. Piqué's— for fuck's sake, I could slaughter Mrs. Lévesque to attend his class on time.

At some instant, I even thought of doing so, but sadly, murder isn't legal, you know?

I groaned as I watched the lady jump, which made his round, four feet something self look like an Oompa Loompa. At first I thought of helping her out, but as far as I know Mrs. Lévesque, that would only offend her plaguy self— God knows why.

She was truly one in a billion; with a short figured, round body, a bunch of messy curls and prominent dark bags under each eye, she had the attitude of a typical librarian— I could bet she had something up her arse twenty four-seven.

After twelve minutes of tireless efforts, she succeeded in shutting the window; much to my elation.

It took her another ten minutes to collect and note down just three books; and another five minutes to lecture me on how I shouldn't fold the pages of the books that belonged to the school's premises.

As a result, I was around fifteen minutes late to Mr. Piqué's class— huffing and panting as I finally managed it through the classroom door.

I was surprised to see the class almost empty, and then it dawned upon me; majority of the students, including my very own Louise, were off to practice for the Senior School Concert, so it was a free class for the rest of us.

Nonetheless, I was late.

Nonetheless, I owed Mr. Piqué an explanation.

"You're lucky it's a free class. No detention for you today." A puny, almost invisible smirk hugged his plump lips. He even sounded happy; which made me— well, anxious.

He was probably going to enjoy with his girlfriend or something tonight. Fuck my luck.

"I– I had to go to return the books to the library," I explained dryly, heartbroken from the conclusion that I had drawn.

I placed the assignment on his table, as his vision shifted from my profile to the cover of my chore.

I hustled to my respective place, blushing at the fact that he was thoroughly going through my name— holy mother of baby Jesus.

Like everybody else (including Mr. Piqué), I engrossed myself in the little device that controlled my world.

Me : Heyy

I received a reply almost instantly, which made me grin like a madman— or woman, whatever.

Geri : Hey. Missed you, where were you all day?

Me : I was busy with an assignment that I had to submit. I missed you.

Geri : That's okay, love.

Me : so what's up?

Geri : Tired, at work. You?

Me : in class, im boreddd.

Geri : Shouldn't you be concentrating?

Me : oh no, we have a free class.

Geri : Why so?

Me : Senior School Concert, you know.

Me : moreover the teacher is too hot for the subject itself.

Geri : Really?

Me : oo, did I hurt someone?

Geri : Oh Jesus, no.

Me : I thought I did. :(

Geri : Fine, yeah. You did. I'm jealous.

Geri : Can I ask you something?

Me : sure thang, shoot!

Geri : what class are you attending, again?

Me : right now?

Geri : yeah?

Me : biology :)