The Only Exception

"Not everyone is Payne. Like I said, he grew up in a racist family, so he has problems. Most people here love foreigners," Mike assured him.

Pierre smiled slightly. "Okay, that makes me feel a bit better." He said. "And Payne seems like a nice guy, minus his hatred for the French."

"And if it makes you feel better, it's not just French. He has a white American complex. Anything other than that brings bad memories or some shit," Mike rolled his eyes. "He's a good guy. Just stubborn."

Pierre nodded. "Ah, I see. My... my ex, he was stubborn as well." He said, wincing slightly as he thought of his ex, Mathieu.

Mike nodded. "Many people are now-a-days. Its the world we live in," he said.

Pierre sighed and nodded. "I know. But I miss him terribly." He said quietly, looking down at his lap.

"If he's your ex, he ain't worth missin'," Mike told him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Pierre sniffed slightly. "You are right. But... I loved him. But he decided I wasn't worth waiting for and dumped me right before I left." He said quietly.

"Like I said, he ain't worth missin'. We all been there, and we all can do better," Mike said.

Pierre smiled softly, wiping his eyes a little. "You're right. And uh, thank you." He said. "So, what do you Americans do for fun around here?"

"Sports, watch TV, mischief. Depends on who you talk to," Mike replied.

Pierre nodded. "Do you have football team at your school?" He asked, though he really meant soccer. Soccer was pretty big in France, and Pierre played it a lot.

"Of course. Football is Amer- Oh. Soccer. Yeah, we do. You play?" Mike asked.

Pierre smiled. "Yes, I was on a team back in France. I love it, did it since I could walk. You play any sports?" He asked.

"Track and wrestling," Mike replied, smiling.

Pierre smiled. "Wrestling, huh? Interesting. We don't really have that back home. I mean, it's on TV but we don't have a team or anything. I was thinking of trying out for track as well. I just don't know if I have the body for it." He said, looking down at his figure.

Mike chuckled. "Track is all about endurance and pacing yourself. Nothing to do with your body. You should try out. Worst case scenario, you lose."

Pierre nodded. "I suppose. But my parents always pressured me to win. Losing was never an option for them." He sighed.

"Lots of kids have parents like that. Just do the best ya can," Mike said.

Pierre nodded, smiling nervously. "I suppose." He said with a shrug, leaving out the fact that his father hit him when he lost or did anything wrong... hell his father hit him even when he did nothing wrong. Its why he always preferred his mother. He missed his mother like hell, even if she always pushed him.

"What aren't you telling me?" Mike asked. He was very observant, and could tell Pierre was holding something back.

Pierre shook his head, wanting to get away from the subject. "Nothing, nothing Mike. Don't worry." He chuckled, trying to laugh the situation off.

Mike eyed Pierre skeptically but dropped the subject, deciding it would be better not to push it.

Pierre sighed, sinking into the couch. He felt pretty tired, still being a little jet lagged. "What time is... what's the meal called..." He trailed off, getting a headache from translating.

"Lunch? Or dinner?" Mike supplied.