French Lessons for Suze

Revised version

A/N hey people! Yeah, decided to continue the story but it's different formula, you know? Right… you don't. But well, a new opportunity to. Argh, I'll just shut up now. R&R or… muhaha!

Chapter One: Hmm… tutorage… interesting?

SPOV

Have you ever felt like the cutest guy in the world was at touching distance but oh-so far away? Yeah, bet you did. Well, it's a sad day when Suze Simon has to admit the same but well, this is it.

Yeah, I'm Susannah Simon, Suze and not Susie if you want to keep all your teeth and if male genitals.

I know I'm so sweet and sociable, who would want to miss the opportunity to meet me? Ha, if you say no-one you haven't met most of the population of Carmel high.

Right, I guess I should tell you the basics of my life.

I'm an ordinary sixteen going on seventeen girl, brown hair, green-eyed rather anti-social one really… oh, forgot to mention this: I can see ghosts.

Let me guess, you're calling the asylum, they lost a member to the club, straight jacket people! See, that's the reason I don't tell people about my special 'talent' or as I put it freaking curse.

Yeah, you're not people. Nah, just messing with you… you're… uh… right. Next subject.

You see I am what the clueless call Mediator and what the compulsive obsessive pathological liars call shifters. I am a person who is assigned the task of making the dead past to the realm of the dead and not say and cry their poor eyes out or kill innocent or not so innocent passer-bys.

If you're wondering who the clueless are well, it's those who believe that this whole thing is a gift, god's offering to us to give us the chance to help our fellow annoying-bastards. That would be Father Dom, but he's a nice guy, just clueless you know? But then he is a priest, he's been protected from the not so understanding side of the world I was brought up in, yeah; you got it in one, Brooklyn.

(A/N don't know anything about Brooklyn, if anyone wants to complain about anything said in the fics I write, complain; go on, I don't mean anything I say in these stories!)

As for the compulsive obsessive and pathological liars they happen to be one person whom I am starting to believe has a variety of personalities, some that I have yet to meet. He –yes he is a he- would be known to people as Paul Michael Slater or to me as Spawn of Satan, bastard, arsehole, shmuck and psychologically disturbed freak. Not so kind, I know, but he deserves all those names. Except maybe for bastard, I think his parents were married when he was sadly brought to earth… what a sad, tragic day, the 20th of July, to be mourned!

Right, might have to focus now… so, yeah, I see ghosts, no I'm no bullshitting, yes I swear a lot and if you're thinking 'When does she have the time to tell us all this, I always have class' well here's the answer.

I'm in the principal's office.

And the principal and I are real chummy.

Ugh, not that kind of chummy, god, sick and perverted you are! No, see he's father Dom, another mediator, well, I haven't found myself a name yet and I'd rather die than go around parading that I'm a 'shifter', Paul corrupts everything he touches, says and so on you know?

So yeah, this is one of our customary meetings. I bore myself to death and nod every time he says something he considers wise and worthy of memorization when truthfully I'm just thinking and well, that's when you appear and uh, read my thoughts?

Right, skip the boring stuff…

I'm in his office because of ghost business. You know, like, 'Oh Susannah, (yeah, he can't call me Suze, feels guilty or something…) has anything out of the ordinary happened?' then I just look at him and wonder how he knows about my non-existing love-life and after babbling I realize that's not what he meant… yeah, I'm a genius all right!

Anyways, the conversation started like that, I told him nothing paranormal happened when in fact this weird crazy woman came up and started yelling her startlingly wide mouth about me being a lazy ass and going to apologize for her to some random guy that she left behind… charming. But yeah, anyways, I lie, he nods thoughtfully and distrusting –see Father Dom knows me well enough to know I'm a totally stubborn klutz…- and then he starts going on about my schoolwork.

Now you should pay attention, because this day was different from usual, see, Father Dom says I suck in French and this is nothing new to me so I just say sorry and let him go on but then… ah, something happened, Father Dom assigned me a TUTOR!

How do you tell a priest and principal of your school 'thanks but no thanks'?