My 1st Prom

Date: 13/6, Mon

  'Bog off!' A boy snarls. He stares at me as though I'm a vulgar creature. 'Didn't you hear him?' His friend joins him, 'Bog. Off.' 'I need to get past.' I gesture to the narrow doorway they're blocking, fighting the urge to plead. A person behind them accuses, 'M Germs should get out of the way.' 'I can't walk in if they are in front of me.' I grit my teeth, patience running thin, irritation going high. More people pile behind me while some of them squeeze into the remaining space at the back of the Modern Language room (which isn't much.) The two guys let them. 'Yo! M Germs!' They bark, 'Outta the way!' I think the walls are closing in. One troublemaker simply crosses his arms while the other grimaces. I feel smaller than a flea and as powerless, 'Please let me get to class.' 'Nope,' those two still guard the door, 'whatcha gonna do ? Smash glass ?' So that's what this is about. I automatically bite my fingernails, struggling to contain my unease, 'What if I didn't?' 'Such a self-centered coward,' a girl in the room contributes, 'Celestia leaves her messes for others to clean up.'

They hate me. But that shouldn't matter - I'm used to that. Something incomprehensible ticks inside of me, like a bomb going off. Before I know it, I shout furiously at them, 'Stop blaming me! YOU MOVE!' Shoving the douchebags aside and plowing forward, I gloss over everyone's expressive revulsion. A boy sneers, 'Take your M germs with you!' Everyone either recoils or acts disgusted. I slide into my seat (the one closest to the door and farthest from the front.) Dislike is written across their faces as people pass by. Nick sits on my left, 'Tough day, cutie?' I break my unresponsive habit, 'Nothing out of the blue.' 'Oh.' Oh what?

Madame Lafrance, speaks rapidly in French. No butt view, thank God. Sitting in the last row of class, I scroll past all kinds of prom dress designs on my iPad -instead of studying the language- in the aisle seat. Dress fever is addictive. Next to me, Nick listens with half an ear, also using his iPad. He must have noticed me staring because he suddenly says, 'I'm glad you didn't edit your eyebrows.' I swipe the iPad screen and smile a tiny smile. Sensing his silent 'are you ignoring me again?' inquiry, I nod once. He seems to get my conveyed message and starts a conversation with the girl in front of him.

'Attention!' Madame Lafrance tunes her speaking channel to English, 'We have a surprise dictation. Take out your grande cahier, all of you.' I oblige, biting my pen nervously. Nick and I shove our iPads into our drawers. Passing French dictations when I don't even understand the language is impossible. Madame Lafrance begins reading the foreign language from a textbook quickly. I attempt spelling and ending up leaving plenty of spaces on the single-lined paper. She reads word after word without stopping. A rapid stream of foreign words flows faster than rushing rivers. I might as well be doing quantum physics.

By the time she's done, I've only scribbled three short, barely legible and incomplete sentences out of an entire paragraph. I don't even know where those sentences start and end. What are commas called in French ? I continue making guesses until Madame Lafrance calls on Nick to collect our grande cahiers. Everyone passes theirs to him. I slide mine face down onto his table, catching his snicker at the attempt. He adds mine to the pile anyway, despite the audible protests from our fellow classmates. What is their frigging problem- 'It's fine,' Nick says airily, 'Celcel's one is at the bottom, underneath mine.' The entire class halts. Who's "Cel Cel"? They goggle -all goggle- at me in astonishment. Right. Obviously. I want to shrink until I'm microscopic, listening to my heartbeat of a one-sided symphony. Madame Lafrance must've thought of the protests as hubbub, for she reminds us to remain quiet in French. I slump lower into my seat, resentment bubbling in a cauldron about to overflow.

'Celestia Blank.' Madame Lafrance announces. 'Ye-oui?' I immediately answer, barely remembering my surroundings after day dreaming. 'What is the answer to question 12?' She motions to the board. I snap out of Mocktail Gathering fantasies and focus. On the French question. 'Uuuuuuhhhhh....' I stall hopelessly for time. What is 'I don't know' in this language? A few people whisper to each other and turn around, giving me the stink eye. I manage not to curse at them. Nick knocks my knee with his before discreetly turning his iPad screen towards me, showing Google Translate: Je ne sais pas. I quote the phrase. Our classmates outwardly laugh at my idiocy. I should be accustomed to their behaviour anyway. Madame Lafrance grits her teeth impatiently, 'Please pay focus in class, d'accord?' 'D'accord.' I repeat like a parrot, feeling very stupid. And whisper, 'Merci.' Nick snorts and whispers back, 'You finished shopping for prom dresses now?' I cringe. Observing my embarrassment, he asks quietly, 'Are you going to the Mocktail?' Should I tell you? 'Je ne sais pas,' I reply. 'Fair enough,' he whispers again, 'I won't be surprised if you really do show up.' My brain is unable to resist him any longer, 'I'll surprise you.' Nick scrolls aimlessly on his screen, 'I take it you're going, Celcel?' 'What's up with my nickname?'

'Please pay attention, Nick,' Madame Lafrance switches from French to English once again, 'I don't want to collect the dictations from the wrong cubby hole.' Nick smirks as he twirls his pen, 'My bad, wrong hole.' Prompting true laughter from our classmates. Madame Lafrance is quiet for a while as she frowns, revealing facial wrinkles artfully hidden in her powdered face. 'Next time, put them in the correct one. I don't want to choose another subject monitor.' She says. 'Oui, the correct hole it is.' Nick does an irresistible wry smile. Our classmates laugh uncontrollably. He turns his screen towards me again, showing Notes: You've talked the talk, so walk the walk, Blank

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Well well well, Celestia and Nick have definitely gotten closer :} Think he's gonna ask her to prom? Too soon? Nevermind then~