The holidays passed, which meant Gregory was out of school on break, and was able to spend more time with Christophe. The brunet taught him a few words and phrases in French, which was only fun to say around Mr. Thorne, who didn't speak any French at all.
Christophe even taught him all the cuss words, but Gregory chose not to say those, especially not in front of his mother.
When Gregory returned to school in January, Christophe and his mother rode along with, and Mrs. DeLorne was given a tour of the school and signed up for an orientation for the scholarship.
"How long until Christophe can come to school for real, Mum?" Gregory asked before entering his classroom.
"Well, if he's accepted, he'll have to wait until September, when school starts up again after summer."
"Will he be in the same class as me?"
"It depends. He may have to go to kindergarten, but if he places high enough on the entrance exams, he could be in the same grade as you."
Hearing that, Gregory made it his mission to teach Christophe as much as he could in the hopes of the boy making it into the first grade with him. Everyday after school, he helped Christophe with what the boy already knew, and taught him the new things Mrs. DeLorne wasn't teaching him. There were a few days where Christophe didn't feel like learning anything new, already having been home-schooled by his mother all day; there were days he didn't want to do anything for unspoken reasons, but Gregory could always see the reasons why. It seemed like Mrs. DeLorne wasn't striking her son in noticeable places as often anymore, but there was still the odd bruise that would appear under his eye or on his arms, or he'd wince while sitting down, or complain about his head hurting.
The Brit made it a habit not to ask too many questions about it - Christophe would get angry and yell if he pried too much. However, the days the French boy did want to learn, he participated actively. He wanted to attend Yardale even more than Gregory wanted him to - and with good reason. Gregory found out that the only book Mrs. DeLorne taught Christophe with was the Bible. And from what the Brit had been read from it, he knew that it wasn't nearly as interesting as the books his parents and teachers read to him.
So Christophe studied hard (when he felt like it), and advanced along with Gregory. Spring passed, and the snow started melting as Summer slowly eased its way into the town. Gregory was let out of school for the summer, and they went on more "missions" now that they had so much free time on their hands. The brunet boy practiced digging deeper and deeper holes near Stark's pond – both his and Gregory's mother had forbid him from digging in their backyards anymore.
He was getting quite adept at it, too. Gregory had watched him dig steadily into the ground for three hours one day, and the French boy had managed to carve out a small tunnel that they spent the rest of the day relaxing in. This became their regular play spot, cleverly hidden behind a bush so that when the other kids in town came to swim in the pond, none of them ever discovered the tunnel. Christophe added to it from time to time, shoveling dirt out whenever the urge struck him.
After a long hot summer, it was finally nearing the time to return to school. The day of the one-year mark of Gregory and Christophe being friends, the Thorne's and the DeLorne's piled into the Brit's car and drove the long drive to Yardale.
There was already a large throng of parents and students outside the school, all pushing past each other to get near the front of the building where several stressed out counselors were handing out the rooms and teachers for the students. Gregory's mother took one look at the crowd and sighed wearily. "Why don't we wait a bit for some of the people to leave."
"Agreed," Mr. Thorne said immediately. He wasn't one for large groups. "We can sit over there under that tree." They wandered over there and the parents sat while Gregory and Christophe chased each other around. Mrs. DeLorne was constantly looking toward the school, a nervous expression on her face. All the conversations the Thorne's tried to engage her in never went very far. Finally, most of the crowd had left, leaving only a few concerned parents talking to the school officials.
"Well, let's go and get your papers, Gregory," Mrs. Thorne called. "And Claudine, let's go see if Christophe was accepted." Christophe had taken the entrance exam at the beginning of summer, and he said he felt he'd done well, but he was only five-going-on-six, so Mrs. DeLorne couldn't really trust her son's words.
However, it would seem that the young boy's feelings were correct, because when she asked if there were any papers for Christophe DeLorne, an official pulled the sheet of paper from the top of her pile and handed it to the stunned woma
"Oh, congratulations, Christophe!" Mr. Thorne exclaimed, glancing over Mrs. DeLorne's shoulder and reading the details of the paper. "It looks like you'll be in the same classroom as Gregory this year."
The boys gasped loudly before cheering. Gregory wrapped his arms around Christophe in a bear hug, and the brunet briefly hugged back before gently pushing him away and tugging on his mother's skirt while motioning to see the paper. She gave him a fixed look before sighing and handing the paper to him, explaining it in her native tongue.
Meanwhile Gregory turned to his parents and did the same, asking a million questions about what classroom he was in and who his teacher was.
After a while, the five headed back to the car and drove back to their small neighborhood, Mrs. DeLorne immediately whisking Christophe back to their home with plans to go school shopping.
Gregory's mother was going to put that off as long as she could, so the trio of Thorne's went to go prepare lunch in their own home. The only thing Gregory could talk about was how excited he was to finally have Christophe come to school with him. He couldn't wait to show the French boy around Yardale, and introduce him to the few friends the blonde had, and help him with their homework.
It was going to be great.
