"On the first day of school, Victor stood in line half an hour before he came to a wobbly card table. He was handed a packet of papers and a computer card on which he listed his one elective, French."
“Très bien. Parlez-vous français?”
“La me vave me con le grandma,”
"In the homeroom, the roll was taken, emergency cards were passed out, and they were given a bulletin to take home to their parents. The students squirmed in their chairs and ignored him, they were anxious to go to the first period.
That was amazing! DO you think you could help me with French?
"Mr. Bueller asked if anyone knew French. Victor raised his hand, wanting to impress Teresa."
"The teacher beamed and said, “Très Bien. Parlez-vous français?”. Victor didn’t know what to say. The teacher wet his lips and asked something else in french. The room grew silent. Victor felt all eyes staring at him. He tried to bluff his way out by making noises that sounded French. “La me vave me con le grandma,” he said uncertainly. Mr. Bueller, wrinkling his face in curiosity, asked him to speak up. Great rosebushes of red bloomed on Victor’s cheeks. A river of nervous sweat ran down his palms. Mr. Bueller understood that the boy didn’t know French and turned away."
"Victor widened his eyes in terror at Teresa who stood in front of him. “I didn’t know you knew French,”she said. “That was good.” Mr. Bueller looked at Victor, and Victor looked back. Oh please, don’t say anything, Victor pleaded with his eyes. Mr. Bueller shuffled through the papers on his desk, He smiled and hummed as he sat down to work. He remembered his college years when he dated a girlfriend in borrowed cars. “Yeah, well, I picked up a few things from movies and books and stuff like that.” They left the class together. Teresa asked him if he would help her with her French.“Sure, anytime,” Victor said. “I won’t be bothering you, will I?”. “Oh no, I like being bothered.” “Bonjour.” Teresa said, leaving him outside her next class. She smiled and pushed wisps of hair from her face.