Chapter 1 : I Will Barf On You
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Chapter One: I Will Barf On You
A scream echoed throughout the house. I heard footsteps marching down the hall, and I knew the bitch was coming for me. What to do? What to do? I grabbed the first things I saw, which happened to be a handful of crayons and a Christmas coloring book, and managed to jump on my bed in a convincingly sprawled position. And not a moment too soon. The bitch had opened the door and had stepped into my room.
“DOMINIQUE! WHERE ARE MY—”
“You should knock first.” I looked down. Hmm, I think Rudolph's butt should beeee… yellow! Okay!
“WHERE ARE MY WEDDING PLANS?” my older sister screeched.
I clapped my hands over my ears.
“Whoa! Tone it down there!”
“WHERE. ARE. MY. WEDDING PLANS?”
I was sure my eardrums had ruptured. Man, I feel sorry for any masked killer who tries to murder her in the shower.
I shrugged, picking up a pink crayon. Rudolph was going to have a rainbow butt!
“DON’T YOU SHRUG AT ME, YOU BASTARD! I LEFT THEM ON MY DRESSING TABLE! WHERE ARE THEY?”
I sighed and put my crayons down. I didn’t want our parents storming up here. That would be very bad, and I really wasn’t in the mood to dive out the window. (You see, if stuck on the second floor, that was the only way to escape my mum’s shrieks of bat-like frequency.) Therefore, I looked my sister dead in the eye and said: “They’re gone.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE GONE?” A look of horror crossed her face. “DOM, YOU DIDN’T—”
“Yes, I did.” I sat upright on the bed, facing her. I knew that I didn’t want to be exposing my spine to my older sister after she heard the next statement. “They’ve become fodder for my fire-breathing trash can.”
Victoire’s face sagged. Her eyes bulged outward and her mouth was so wide enough that I could have stuck my fist in it. “I can’t believe you!” she hissed, her expression turning into one of anger and pain. “Why’d you do that? What kind of brother are you?”
My eyebrows twitched. Damn, first signs of guiltiness.
Okay, maybe destroying her wedding plans hadn’t been the best idea.
“The man you are marrying is a two-timing douchebag!”
“Oh my sweet Lord.” Vic looked up at the heavens and muttered a prayer underneath her breath. She did that a lot around me. “My fiancé does not two-time me, and he most certainly is not a bag of douche!”
I snorted. “Girl, that man is probably wanking himself off to his own reflection in the mirror right now. Like, right this instant. Wank, wank, wank--”
“Dominique Jacques!” Oh shit, now she was really angry. I could tell by her narrow, squinty-eyed glare. If the situation wasn’t so sticky, I would’ve dearly liked to ask her why she liked impersonating Asian people so much. “We’ve had this conversation before. I love Damon and we’ll be getting married in a week. There’s nothing you can do that will change my mind!”
I groaned. She was just so daft sometimes, and it just set me on edge to know that my sister, my dear, lovely sister, was going to marry a scoundrel. Because that's what he was. A. Fucking. Scoundrel.
“Victoire, listen to me. I— I know men!” I spluttered. “And I know that Damon is nothing but a—”
“You don’t know a thing about men!” Victoire spat. “You haven’t ever had a stable relationship in your whole life! You get ditched every other day by male prostitutes off the street and you come bawling to mummy! That wouldn’t happen if you knew men, Dom.”
Bitch. My stomach clenched in cold fury. I couldn't believe her. She had no right to say that. And they weren't male prostitutes, thank you very much.
“So you think you know men?” I shot back in pure rage. “All the men you loved were assholes! Look at Alex, and Eric, and Philippe! Look at Teddy! Teddy fuckin' Lupin, Vic! Did he bring you any happiness? No, he didn't! He left you broken and crying in the gutter! How dare you say to me that I don't know men!”
“Philippe and Eric wanted more than I could give them,” Victoire said, her voice shaking a bit. I almost felt sorry for bringing her old flames into the conversation, but then again I didn’t. “And Alex was so rambunctious! I couldn't have lived with his partying! You know that!”
“And Teddy? Why did you skip over him?I sneered at her. “Did you see his betrayal coming? Hadn’t I told you for years that he was just playing with you?” Victoire’s eyes widened. “You’re blind as a bat and a fucking idiot when it comes to love! None of those men loved you, least of all Teddy! Teddy never loved you! And this Damon guy doesn’t either!”
Victoire didn’t say anything. She just stared at me with her eyes bulging out unattractively. Did she believe me? Did she realize that Damon was nothing but a money-hungry playboy?
“I HATE YOU!” she exploded, pointing at me direly. “You-- Dom--I -- I can't believe you said that! I am NOT going to let you ruin my relationship with Damon! NEVER!”
Nope, she didn’t.
I gave a cynical look. “So, what’re you gonna do? Not let me go on the cruise? Leave me home?”
Yes, what was more melodramatic and horrifying, the actual wedding was going to take place on a cruise ship to some Caribbean island. Victoire was a sucker for romantic tropical paradises. She hadn’t even cared when that I got seasick, and by hell did I get seasick. I BLARGHHHHed all over the place. But I wasn't going to complain about it so much. If I was on a ship, it would be very easy for me to toss Damon overboard and make the murder look like an accident.
“No,” Victoire said, gazing at me with hard eyes. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I’ll take you on the ship. But I’ll make every minute of it living hell.”
She turned on her heel left, slamming the door shut behind her.
I exhaled loudly and fell backwards on my pillow. She was going to make my life living hell. How exactly was she going to do that? We were going to be on a cruise ship to the Bahamas for fuck’s sake!
“Maman, Papa, do you like it?” Victoire asked as she led us into the lobby of the ship. I was the lucky one who got to push the cart with all of our baggage in it, since Victoire was the bride and Louis…well, Louis didn’t really do anything. My little brother followed us with his nose stuck in some book. He didn’t like people who talked a lot, you see, so we didn’t get along very well.
“It’s great, honey,” Dad admired, gazing at the splendor of the wall hangings and the golden wall décor. I snorted. Stupid Muggle decorations. If I was getting married, I would make the venue look like Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, with cool wizarding gadgets and like. Hell, the wedding venue would be Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
(But I don’t think Uncle George catered marriages, and definitely not gay ones at that.)
“Yes, ‘ow long did your decorators spend?” Maman asked critically. “You must ‘ave worked zem to ze bone!”
“Well, not the bone,” Victoire said with a grin, and our parents laughed. I rolled my eyes.
“Where’re our cabins?” I felt disgruntled. Time was ticking. I needed to set up my Dungbombs and booby traps before the groom came.
“I’m sharing a cabin with Damon, of course,” my older sister told us. “And Maman and Papa, you have a cabin all to yourself, and Louis is in the one next you.”
“And me?” I motioned to myself. “Do I share with Louis?”
Oh, Circe, that would be like having to live with a walking doorknob.
Beaming, Victoire leaned over and flung an arm around my shoulders. “I’m so glad you could do it, Dom! I love you!”
I stared her in complete confusion. “Do what?”
“We were having a problem with the staffing,” Victoire told my parents loudly, cutting me right off, “and I told Dom and he volunteered to live below-deck and help the staff with the cooking and cleaning!”
Whoa! Hold the fuck up!
I whirled on her. “Who’s working here? ‘Cos I sure ain’t!”
“Zat iz a wonderful idea, Dominique!” My mum said, beaming at me. “I am so happy zat you are ‘elping your sister with all of zis! It ‘as been quite a pain for Victoire!”
“No, mum, I’m not doing it! You don’t get it, Victoire’s trying to get me—”
“Let’s not have second thoughts now, Dom,” Vic said with a cheery laugh. Before I could do anything, she was steering me away from the rest of the family. We stopped behind a pillar, and I threw her hand off my shoulder in disgust.
“What the fuck is all this about?”
“Didn’t I say I was going to make life hell for you?” My sister folded her arms and gave me a calculating look. “You’re going to the servant’s quarters! I didn’t leave a spare cabin for you in the entire ship, so don’t even try to sneak back up!”
I glared at her. “You’re a bitch, you know that?”
“I can’t afford to have you ruin my wedding! So I signed you up with the cooking and cleaning staff, so you wouldn’t have the free time to plot about breaking us up.”
My mouth fell down. “I’m cooking and cleaning? WHAT THE FUCK, VICTOIRE?”
I was so angry that I wanted to tackle her to the floor. My one trip to the Bahamas, and I was going to spend it being a servant to rich people! FUCK!
She shrugged. “You threatened to ruin my marriage, I promised you hell.” She gave my devastated look a smirk. “You’re cabin number A3, below-deck, and don’t you dare show your face around me and my fiancé.”
I was seething now. “How can you be so cruel?”
“How can you want to ruin my marriage? Don’t you care about me at all?”
I finally exploded.
“I’M DOING IT FOR YOUR OWN DAMN GOOD! THAT GUY’S A DOUCHEBAG AND WHEN HE TAKES YOUR MONEY AND LEAVES YOU CRYING, DON’T COME CRAWLING BACK TO ME!”
Victoire slapped me across the face. She shot me one boiling look of rage, then turned on her heels and walked away.
It’s official, I thought bitterly. My sister’s an idiot. She’s a plain idiot.
And I needed to get her away from Damon ASAP.
A3, below-deck. It didn’t take a long time to find the staff quarters’. Some bloke passed me a key and a clip-on name tag with DOMINIQUE stamped on it, and asked me why my parents gave me a girl’s name. In response, I flipped him the bird and pointedly said, “Where’s A3?”
“Over there,” he snapped not-too kindly, pointing down the hallway.
I unlocked the cabin and entered it. It was small and square. There was a bunk bed against one wall, and two dressers. I dropped my trunk onto the floor, kicked it several times, and then flung myself onto the bottom bunk. Was I supposed to have a goddamn roommate or something? Fuck that! I got up, narrowly missing hitting my head on the underside of the top bunk, and groped around the inside my trunk for an InstaFill quill. I grabbed it, then hastily crossed out the ‘INIQUE’ part on my name tag. Then I found a piece of parchment, scribbled DO NOT ENTER on to it, and stuck it on the outside of the cabin door.
There. That should keep out creepy roommates.
I went back inside, locked the door, then went back to bed. A uniform had magically appeared onto my pillow. It was black and white and looked exactly like a waiters’. I tossed it to the floor, stepped on it in rage a couple times, then rolled under the covers.
Now, I could think.
The thing about me was that I always tried to be positive. When I had found out that I liked guys, I tried to be positive. (Well, not really. I had screamed for a good five house, demolished half the house, and I cried about it to my mum, who tried to unsuccessfully comfort me—she was French and French people were totally chill about guys liking other guys— and then I went to the guy who had kissed me and punched his daylights out. It was then that I really started hating my name.)
Actually… thinking about it… was I ever positive about anything?
Well, it couldn’t hurt to try.
Problemo Numero Uno: Victoire was getting married to a monster moneysucker in a week. Positive effects: I would get a nice work-out (by beating him to pulp). And Victoire would realize how much of a godly brother she has and how much of a damn idiot she is.
Problemo Numero Dos: I was stuck on a rolling ship—the ship had got off dock it seemed, off to the Bahamas we go!— and I was always chronically seasick. In fact, as the ship rolled around, I had to clutch my bedsheets tightly around me or I started to feel faint and dizzy. I wanted to go to the adjoining bathroom and grab a pail or something so I could barf in it, but the thought of even getting up was daunting. Positive Effects: Since I was supposed to work on this damn ship, I supposed I would have to learn to control my seasickness. And if I couldn’t, I could always barf on Damon. That would be fantastic.
See? If you try hard enough, you can always find positive things about the shittiest of circumstances.
I heard the cabin door open with a swing. Damn, was it my roommate? I was curled up in bed, facing the wall. “If you’re an old man, don’t come near me,” I croaked out.
“Or I’ll barf on you.”
“I like the sign,” replied a deep, somewhat arrogant voice. I exhaled in relief. No old, bearded creepers. Or maybe he was bearded. I didn’t know. I was squinting dimly at the wall and trying to keep the contents of my stomach in my stomach. “You sick there?”
“Are you making fun of me?” I asked indignantly, slightly muffled by the blankets pulled up to my chest. It was true. The bloke’s voice sounded condescending.
“No,” laughed the man. “It’s rare to find someone in bed at this hour. And you have duties to complete, so get on your feet. Chop chop!”
“I’ll barf on you,” I repeated, trying to make my voice sound menacing.
“You sound like an injured goat,” the man said unsympathetically. “It’s pretty funny.”
“You shut the fuck up!” I snapped, and then I stuffed my fist in my mouth as a wave of nausea crashed through my body. The ship had started rolling again. Damn, I can’t survive below decks! I CAN’T!
“No, I was lying,” said the cocky voice. “What’s really funny is your name. They said my roommate’s name was Dominique, and I almost thought I was going to have to kip with a girl. But you’re not a girl, are you?”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” I snarled. And this time I think I managed to sound menacing.
“You’re the bride’s brother?” the man said, completely ignoring me. “What the hell are you doing in the staff quarters?”
“Long story.” I took a deep breath. This guy was pissing me off.
“Dominique, do you recognize my voice?”
There was a jolt in my stomach. Was this guy someone I knew? Nope. Didn’t seem like it.
“Uh, no, I don’t. Now get out.”
“You don’t recognize my voice? Seriously? I’m disappointed.”
“Who are you?” I asked impatiently. Whoever it was, I planned to barf on them and send them packing.
“Well, stand up and see.”
Bastard. Grunting a bit, a sat up straight. The boat rolled a bit, and I nearly fell on my face again. But laboriously, I swung my legs out. I took ahold of the railing of the bed, and then with a deep breath, I mustered all my strength and stood up. My sight was focused downward and I saw a pair of dress shoes, then black trousers, then a white button-down shirt— and then I moved my gaze up to the man’s face.
Hazel eyes, dirty blond hair, malicious smile. It was the face of my childhood tormentor and ex-future-brother-in-law.
The ship rocked again, much more violently than the last time. A rolling sensation coursed through my stomach and my knees automatically gave way. Before I knew it, the man had grabbed my shoulders to keep me from falling.
“I didn’t know you got seasick, Dominique,” he murmured. His lips were so close to my ear that I could feel him breathing on my neck.
“Now I’m definitely going to barf on you,” I groaned and pushed him away with all my might. Then I leaned back against the railing of the bed and looked weakly at him.
What the fuck was Teddy Lupin doing here?
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