Mr. Innes put down the new piece of yellow chalk he had just written with. His vest was red with a vibrant blue button down underneath. Innes was bald, by choice for he was young. He paced the room with his hands behind his back only once pausing to nudge his black-rimmed glasses back on his nose. Observing the classroom before him he noticed one of his desks was missing a pupil; he always had a full classroom. He quickly dismissed this particular detail.

"Welcome to your third year in your high school careers," he began. "My name is Mr. Innes, that is spelled I-N-N-E-S as written upon the blackboard. I will shape your minds into thinking machines by the end of the year and I expect for you to be quoting great American authors by May."

Joey yawned at Mr. Innes's opening comments. It was the first day of his junior year at St. Ignacious College Preparatory Academy. His best friend Michael sniggered at this.

"Mr. Kovac, do you find the introduction to my lecture boring?" Mr. Innes said, in an instant standing beside Joey's desk.

"No." Joey said, slightly embarrassed.

"No what?" Mr. Innes demanded.

"No sir."

"Fix your tie Kovac or you'll be in detention instead of at your coveted varsity soccer practice."

Innes appeared suddenly at the front of the room once more. "Lit books out and your copy of The Scarlet Letter and if I see any Sparknotes on your desks, detention will be your new extracurricular activity!"

A sudden den of books being placed on freshly polished wooden desks filled the room almost immediately. Joey flipped aimlessly through his brand new copy of The Scarlet Letter and found a note folded into the crease. He smiled at the note that his mother and father left him:

Joey, good luck on your first day. No detentions this year. With much love, Mom and Dad.

The classroom door opened unexpectantly and fell silent, all eyes on who opened the door. It was Mrs. Callahan, an old Irish who was secretary to the school counselors. She held a blue slip in her hand, which meant only one thing: someone was getting ready to be excused from class. All held their breath, praying that they were the lucky one about to walk the empty hallways. Before reading the name on the blue slip, Callahan readjusted her glasses. She looked up at Joey. "J. Kovac, you are to report to Mrs. Ernst's office immediately."

Joey jumped at the invitation, knocking his books into his bag. "Dearie," Callahan started, "You'll be back in a matter of minutes. You can leave your bags." She paused and looked at his Literature teacher, "Thank you Mark." She said to Mr. Innes. Joey's face fell as he walked slowly behind Mrs. Callahan; he couldn't stand her Irish accent.

Aimee sat uncomfortably in her new school's attendance office which then joined into the counselor's offices. She brushed her black pleated skirt out of nervousness and kept moving her blue headband. The knee-high socks were beginning to annoy her as she watched the minute hand tick by. Aimee leaned in her seat to look out the door next to her and saw an empty hallway.

Carter had dropped his daughter off at St. Ignacious Prep promptly at eight in the morning. It was now approaching a quarter till ten. She didn't want to be here and desperately wanted her mom to be with her. That morning Aimee attempted to fain ill but had failed. Then she pretended to fall asleep in the town car on the way over but Carter tickled her way out of that one. When they finally reached the school, Aimee played a deaf mute rather convincingly before she accidentally tripped on a loose piece of stone and gave a small-frightened cry of alarm. From there she was seated in the chair she was now sitting in and promised that some one would show her around.

She folded her class schedule until it could fold no more. Aimee leaned toward the door again as she heard two sets of footsteps coming down the hall. She messed with her headband and jumped as her name was called from another office.

"Aimee Carter?" Mrs. Ernst asked, indicating for Aimee to come in and sit in a bright yellow chair. A hesitant smile was all Aimee could muster at the moment and sat. "I have invited for a favorite student of mine to show you around. Also, I made sure you two had the same schedule for the first semester. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No."

"He should be here in a moment." Mrs. Ernst said, shuffling through some papers. "Oh, and I put you in our highest French class we offer here. I know you're fluent, but I thought you could start out with an easy 'A'."

"Merci." Aimee said politely. Mrs. Ernst beamed at this. Aimee learned quite quickly that Americans were suckers for a foreign accent.

Before Joey entered Mrs. Ernst's office, he quickly replayed all that the Irish Mrs. Callahan had told him. He was to show around a girl, a girl from France. She would follow him to every class and share his schedule. Her name was Aimee and she was French. Joey ran his hand through his black hair and slowly entered the yellow-chaired office of Mrs. Ernst.