Dark Night

Senior year

I started school with a lot more enthusiasm this year than I had the previous year. I had AP calculus with Ms Starmore again (to my relief), AP English and Composition (both with John--nice to have somebody to study with), independent study with Mr Tiller, AP physics (yuck) AP world history, the second semester of psychology, and a sociology class. It would be challenging, but I felt that I could do it if I scheduled my time and got better organized. I had been challenged last year and done well with quite a lot of time to goof off. 

I was a little surprised to be called to Ms Lassiter's office the first day back. I hadn't had time to get into trouble, not that I would have, anyway. The secretary directed me to the vice principal's office, where I found her talking to my old French teacher and a girl I hadn't seen before.

"Delia. Excellent," Ms Lassiter said. "This is Jeanne Caron." I nodded to the girl. "She's just moved down here from Montreal to work at the rink, as you probably know." I didn't know her specifically, but I did recognize her. She was a Canadian singles skater, just outside being one of the top women and looking to improve, and she was gorgeous. She had beautiful straight black hair and enormous gray eyes, very graceful.  "She is also a senior this year. Although her English is good, Ms Stein mentioned you as the best French-speaking student in the school and I wondered if you might act as an occasional translator if necessary."

"I will be taping the lectures until I am more fluent," Jeanne said carefully. "I don't want to interrupt the professeur for definitions."

"What classes are you taking?" I asked, and she had a regular slate of classes, no honors or AP, but probably the challenge of learning in classes in your second language would prove enough of a stretch for anybody. We arranged to meet each day before classes, and there was just enough time to show her where her classrooms were before the bell rang.

At lunch I saw Paul across the cafeteria with his friends. "He looks a little overwhelmed," I said to John as we ate. He laughed.

"He is, a bit, but he's trying to cover. He wants to find his own place here, so I promised to keep my distance," he said. I nodded; I got that. I hadn't promised to stay away, though, and the next day I walked by, said hi, and asked if he was settling in ok. Some of his friends I recognized but others not, so I introduced myself and volunteered to answer questions if I could.

"It was nice of you to stop by Paul," John said in English, smiling. "His new friends are awed that he knows a senior girl who is willing to talk to him in public. His stock went way up."

The next day we had our first student council meeting and I thanked everybody for voting to bring me on board. Our first big project would be setting up a once-monthly student showcase. Homeroom teachers would pass around a signup sheet once a month, giving us two weeks to go through the volunteers and making sure that what they wanted to discuss would be appropriate. Homecoming was also a concern; it was the second week of October and the classes needed to get moving on their planning. The Homecoming committee had chosen the theme "The Homecoming Games" with the mockingjay motif from Hunger Games, and we approved that.

"As long as the activities don't require tributes," Carl stipulated, and we all laughed.

I met Jeanne each day for that first week, going over some words and terms she didn't know and identifying some she might need for that day's class, but she didn't show up on Monday. I saw her later in passing, and she thanked me for my help but said that she didn't feel she needed it anymore; her classmates were happy to explain to her. I shrugged and moved on. It would have been nice if she'd let me know earlier, but it also meant that I wouldn't have to rush from practice to help her.