Atlas Grove, once a dancer with dreams of dancing under the stars, now lives petrified in the shadows of abuse. To escape her living nightmare she must keep her head down and work hard, being her senior year this is her last chance to get out. Altho...
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"I don't understand this crap!" Blaze huffs, his head resting on top of his arms slouched on the table. He'd been like this for the past hour of French class. He refused to do any work and kept poking me with a sodding pencil, "I'm bored!" He whines, "French is a waste of time!" He says a little louder, a few of the students turning to look at our row of desks. He'd made a point of sitting next to me again at the start of the semester and I'd discovered he was like this most lessons, this or he'd just sleep.
Although not only is he managing to annoy me today it seems in her midst of teaching Mrs Lappel has become aware of Blaze's persistent moaning.
"Mr Beckett, if you wouldn't mind awfully answering this question, I do presume that's the only reason you're talking whilst I'm teaching." She says in her heavy thick accent.
"Of course Miss, I'm just so eager to translate, " He mocks sarcastically. Unfortunately, the French teacher, bless her, is none the wiser and is under the impression Blaze is being serious. She points to a sentence on the board- I have three brothers, two sisters and live in Atlanta. My favourite sport is football.
But what Blaze reads is, "Voulez- Vous coucher avec moi." The class erupts into a fit of laughter, Blaze sits there smug whilst Mrs Lappels face twists in anguish, I'm sure I can even see her eye twitch from all the way back here, I too let out a little giggle.
"You find that funny Blondie? It's a legit offer." He winks. I've become accustomed to Blaze's flirtatious nature but it doesn't mean I don't get flustered, I know it's just harmless flirting and he does it to all the girls but christ it makes me all red.
"Miss Grove since he has been talking to you maybe you'll have the answer for me." Mrs Lappel stares at me with the same disgusted look she has for Blaze, hand on hip challenging my behaviour. Branded by association.
"Uh... it's uh...J'ai trois frères, deux sœurs et je vis à Atlanta. Mon sport préféré est le football." I say quietly, her furrowed brows lift gradually and her stare becomes a lot more neutral accompanied by a line of shock. I very rarely speak put in class, only if I'm forced too but I'm alright at French.
"Tres bien." She nods walking back to her book-filled desk. She returns to explaining the different French tenses whilst I can feel Blaze looking over my shoulder at the pages of my French notes.
"How are you so good at this shit? I can barely speak English properly." He mumbles into my ear.
When my mom was a professional dancer, she travelled and worked all around the world. She mainly did Italian, Russian and French ballets since that's what's they're best known for and produce the best ballet productions. She was quite the star in the dance world, if you did ballet professionally or worked amongst those who did, you'd know who my momma was. Since she spent a lot of time in France, initially and Russia. She picked up the lingo rather fluently and used to speak to me and my sister in French a lot. I've also become fluent in some areas considering the majority of ballet terminology is French it's easy to pick things up when you can dance.
