Mask of Celibacy

Chapter 3

Carolyn scurried to the back of the class, earning a half-puzzled and half-annoyed look from Madame Waters. Although the portly yet energetic French teacher hadn't started speaking, she expected punctuality from all of her students. 

Since neither of us had arrived late once in three years, we didn't receive a swift detention. Still, only one seat remained. 

At the front of the class.

Next to...Morpheus?

Everyone else belonged to the junior class like me, but this guy had never crossed my path. The only dude in French III. He resembled Dream, also known as Morpheus, from The Sandman comics by Neil Gaiman. Until I figured out his name, I decided that would be his moniker.

Well over six feet tall, Morpheus sat slumped in the metal chair, extending his spindly limbs well into my path. He sat up straight after I'd arrived, pulling his legs back. When I hurried past him with a shy smile, he cast me a glance.

Murmuring an apology under my breath to Madame Waters, I sank down into my chair with burning cheeks. She gave me a stern look but didn't reprimand me. 

Determined to show her that she hadn't made a mistake by accepting me into the new class, I opened up my notebooks and diligently followed the lesson.

"Quatre?" she asked, prompting the class to answer number four. Morpheus raised his hand. "Oui, Eric."

So, his name was Eric. Oooh, I like that name. It kinda suits him.

"Il faut que je sois à la gare avant midi," he said, his deep baritone making me blush even more. This time not with embarrassment. I have to go to the train station before noon.

"Sois, oui. Avec un S ou un T?" she asked.

He paused, unsure, and cast me another glance.

"Avec un S," I whispered under my breath to him.

"Merci, Jess!" said Madame Waters, giving me a stern glare.

My cheeks reddened as I whispered, "Pardon, madame."

After some more instruction on the torturous subjunctive voice, we received handouts so that we could practice in pairs. Because Carolyn sat on the other side of the room, I couldn't work with her this time. Everyone except Eric had already joined their partners. 

I was too shy to ask if I could work with him. After all, it was my first day and I didn't know him. Besides, he was a senior.

So I knuckled down and began working on my own.

"Est-ce que tu veux travailler avec moi?" asked Eric in a deep whisper beside me. Do you want to work with me?

My head shot up as I turned to him, surprised.

Hardly anyone spoke French during class except to the teacher. Care and I would, of course. But I'd long since given up on the idea that anyone else would follow suit, no matter how often Madame Waters had asked us to try.

Eric had taken her recommendation seriously, though, and tried to speak French whenever he could. Even if he didn't speak it perfectly. I liked that. The fact that he wanted to take the risk.

Gutsy kid.

"Oui, je veux bien," I replied with a smile as I pushed my desk over to his. Sure, I'd like that.

On closer inspection Eric looked kinda gangly like Jack Skellington in Nightmare before Christmas. A cute mop of raven-black spikes. His deep-set black eyes came from the world of shadow. He wore large, dark-rimmed frames set against almost grayish skin, the kind of pale that came from rarely venturing out into the sun.