NEVER BEFORE - Re-edit (Collioure 2)

Hi there!

Fair warning, this is a slow-burn romance, with quite a few curses.

This is a follow-up of Lost and Found, although you can read it as standalone, you will understand the story line and the characters if you read it first.

I hope you will love this merry gang of misfits, and this love story, as much as I do.

F.

NATHAN

Staying at J’s, or should I say J and Thomas', is always like taking a bath in love. And after a year of misery, I'm ecstatic to report that I am, right now, a very happy man.

I'm surrounded by seven idiots, there is chaos all around, laughter and music, and yes, love. Lots and lots of love.

I know it sounds corny as hell, but please, bear with me.

First, where are we? Where was I? Oh yeah. Jaimie’s place. And it's Christmas.

Jaimie was my first friend. We were in middle school, and despite my popularity, I was a lonely kid. My parents are cold, snobs, and old fashioned. I'll never know why they had me, I've been raised by babysitters and nannies like we were living in Victorian times. And that for a French couple.

My father inherited his business, a huge ass of an antique pharmacy and the building housing it, from his father, who got it from his own father and so on. My mother, hell, I don't know, I think she's coming from a more modest environment, but marrying a wealthy man with a family name, fame (kinda, when you own the only pharmacy in town and the first to be born in the 50 kilometers area around it, your name is known by everyone) went to her head, and she decided after one year of marriage that she was above the rest of the rif-raf living in our little town, her only friend being the jeweler's wife.

Anyhoo, I digress. Again. I was a lonely kid, because, well, because of my parents' snobism. I was deemed too good for football or basketball, these were plebs’ sports, so I was sent twice a week to train at gymnastics. Having no friends to play with, and my agenda controlled by my mother, it was not long before the hours training went with their reward, or punishment, it depends how you look at it: competitions. Lots and lots of competitions. Lots of prices too, but that never seemed to matter, it always had to be more. A new coach, judged better by my parents, more driven. Not a funny man, let me tell you. But hey, he got me young to olympics level, so, who cares, right?

Anyway, middle school. Puberty, with all the discomforts, and still no friends. My results judged below standard by my previous school, not willing to believe, despite my mother's best screaming efforts, that I could not train for the Olympics and get constant good grades, I had to change schools.

Day two in the new class, and it was already the same old. Guys avoided me, or tried too hard to be buddies, girls were giggling, batting their eyelashes, or stuttering when they looked at me. Hey, I'm not vain. I just got eyes. I inherited my father's good looks: tall, blond, curly hair, that always fall well whatever I do with it, blue eyes, a good complexion for which I'm thankful, no acne outbreak and a tanned skin except in the middle of the winter, and, thanks to my physical activity, a broad and muscled body.

Don't blame me for it. Besides, it's just looks. That doesn't say shit about who I am. And that's the thing, you see, nobody knew who I was. They saw the looks, and my name in the local papers, and thought it was everything about me.

So, day two, one girl stormed in the classroom and berated a kid called Jerome. You didn't need long to know he was the typical bully, and apparently he'd pulled a nasty trick on her the previous day. That girl was tiny as fuck, about the half of me give or take, gorgeous, all curly and curvy, but with the body language of a girl who doesn't know it, and she was ballistic. Impressive, let me tell you. So impressive, in fact, that before she was done with confronting Jerome, the guy apologized. Would you believe it, he even declared there and then that she was her best friend, and they remained friendly for the rest of our school time together.

Once calmed down, the girl looked around, apparently looking for a seat as far away from Jerome as possible, and came to my double table, where I was sitting, of course, alone. “Hi! Mind if I join you?”. I waved in the ‘be my guest’ gesture, and she sat, still red faced and puffing. She took a big breath, looked at me, I'm telling you, with no double take, no eyelashes batting and thank god, no giggling. She just looked at me like I was not a freak, and with a big smile taking all her face, said “Hi, I'm Jaimie, what are you reading?”.

And just like that, we were friends.

We stayed in the same class for years. In high school, too. And that is where, on our very first day, two girls came to sit before us: Penelope, though I would kindly advise you not to call her that if you value your eyes and life. We knew her, kind of, she had a few classes in common with us in middle school, and a beautiful blond girl with striking green eyes eyes, called Alexis, who took the bus with Pen (or Penny, she's not picky, you can choose, as long as you don't call her, you know, Penelope).

From that day, we've been inseparable. We survived much together, studies, our parents’ problems or sicknesses, Jaimie’s father dying suddenly, heartbreaks, well, the girls, not me. Don't get me wrong, I have a heart, I love my friends fiercely, I love Carol like I should love my own mother. I just don't have room in me for romantic

They were beside me when I got hurt, and cried for me when the Olympic dream went down in flames, together with a cast, and about a thousand MRI's. They supported me, through my parents' obvious disappointment, followed by extreme disapproval when I decided to study sports and become a gym coach for kids. I wanted to be one kinder than the men I had to suffer as a child.

We supported Al, when she decided after years of study and insomnia that journalism was more her thing and jumped two feet into a new education, and career, and her thousand sentimental break-ups.

We supported Pen when she decided to finally stand up to her parents and told them to let her live her own life, and when she dumped the man-child who was leeching on her for the past 5 years.

We supported J, when her father died…

And all this time, Auntie Carol supported us.

Auntie Carole is Jaimie's aunt, and I guess she adopt our gang of misfits.

Her house in Collioure became our safe haven, where we came every summer for 2 months, each vacation, holiday, and even sometimes for a weekend, and the tradition stayed. Even as grownups, all living in Paris, Carol is still our confidant, and her house is our home.

When she had an accident, in January, her life changed forever, and ours too.

Carol owns a crazy little place called Le Café: you can, as you probably guessed, drink coffee. Or one of the hundreds of herbal teas she offers, based on your mood, your wish, or the place of the moon in the sky. You can also spend your time there reading a book, cuddling with a cat, eating a pastry, or all of the above.

I said accident for lack of a better word, but it was, in fact, a criminal case: a guy, supposed to repair the century old beams supporting the ceiling, butchered his job so bad that the whole thing crumbled after 2 weeks, destroying the shop and almost destroying our Carol too.

After Carol's accident, we met Thomas again: he was a friend in high school and college. Jaimie and him flirted when they both were in the same university, before she broke up with him and he moved away.

During the days following Carol's accident, we also met two firemen, and friends of Thomas’. Huge firemen, I might add. I don't know if it's the sea breeze or the available seafood growing up, but these two guys are real mountains. I feel almost dwarved next to them.

Anyway, these two became our friends, and Jaimie and Thomas rekindled their love, and so there was a three male addition to our gang, that Carol seemed to have called the Scoobygang when speaking about us: Thomas, Louis and Sam.

And then, in March, our gang became complete, with Thomas’ kid sister: Emma.

And so, in March, my life changed forever too.