Note: I thought it would be cute to have them have a conversation (you'll found out who "they" are in a minute) in French, because they have that class together (it will come back up, I think), so when they are speaking in French, English translations /are in back slashes like this/.

— — —

This day just got worse and worse. She'd been sent out of math (not that she was surprised) and lectured for twenty minutes by the dean of students. Since it was the first time she'd been in trouble in her high school career, she'd only gotten a warning. She'd gotten to Chemistry late because of the lecture, and been informed she had a quiz tomorrow. What type of class gave quizzes the first week of school?

On top of this, she had no one to eat lunch with. There were two lunch periods, and, as luck would have it, Kit had the opposite one as her. She also needed to talk to Kit quite desperately. She hadn't talked to him since she'd pulled away from his extremely stunned face and been sent out of class.

Nita grabbed a sandwich and a drink from the lunch line and plopped herself and her stuff down at a small table in the corner of the cafeteria.

Gossip sure traveled fast. Nita's ears were met with muttered information as people passed her table.

"Did you hear what she did in Shurt's class today?"

And...

"That's the chick that was kicked out of math for making out with the guy who sat behind her."

Strange how the story gets exaggerated.

Well, thought Nita dryly as she took a bite of sandwich and began studying (joy of all joys) chemistry, you wanted to give them something to talk about.

Five minutes later, she was interrupted in her work when a voice asked in a nasal, New York City way, "So did you really get up and sit on the guy in the desk behind you's lap and start fondling him in the middle of class?"

Nita glanced up to see a muscular, dirty-blond standing over her. He was in her French II class, and possibly her English class as well. She buried herself deeper into her chemistry book, intent on ignoring him.

"Why are you intent on ignoring me?" he asked.

Nita started. Had he just... No. It was just a lucky guess. Wasn't it?

"Can I help you?" Nita asked sarcastically.

"Is this seat taken? You're in my French class aren't you?"

"Oui. Maintenant, allez-vous-en, tu m'ennie." Nita snapped back.

/Yes. Now, go away. You are bothering me./

"Est-ce je n'asseye pas?" replied this blond stranger.

/Can I not sit down?/

"Aller sur! Asseyez-vous! C'est un libre pays, n'est pas?" Nita was not in a good mood.

/Go on! Sit! It's a free country, is it not?/

He slid into the seat across from her. "Je suis heureux faire wotre connaissance."

/I am very glad to meet you./

What was this guy playing at? Nita wondered. What did he want? Surely he did expect her to believe he simply wanted to talk to her and had to ulterior motive. "Sans blague." she said sarcastically, them finished briskly, "Je suis occupé. Ne me dérangez pas."

/No kidding - - I am busy. Do not bother me./

"Qu'est-ce qui as passe?" he asked.

/What is the matter?/

Nita was exasperated. Surely he didn't think she'd believe he was really interested in the answer. "Vous." she snapped.

/You./

Nita couldn't decipher the look on his face. When he didn't reply, she asked, "Je parle plus lentment? Tu ne comprends pas?"

/Do I need to speak more slowly? Do you not understand?/

"Non, je comprends." he replied. What that amusement in his voice?

/No, I understand./

"Que voulez-vous?" she exclaimed.

/What do you want?/

"Une date. Qu'est ce vous pensez? Êtes vous libre vendredi soir?"

/A date. What do you think? Are you free Friday night?/

"Je pense vous êtes un perdeur." Nita replied, not quite grasping what he had just asked.

/I think you are a loser./

"Moi?" There was definitely amusement in his voice this time, and it made Nita mad.

/Me?/

"Oui. Allez-vous á Hell."

/Yes. Go to Hell./

"Seul si vous venez avec moi."

/Only if you come with me./

Nita was shocked back into English by what he just said, and because it clicked what he asked her just a few minutes prior. She was, however, determined not to let her guard down and to stay every bit as sarcastic as she had been. "Has that line ever worked for you?"

He laughed. He had a great laugh, full of life. "I'd never tried it before."

"That has to be one of the lamest pick up lines I've heard in awhile."

"Have you been under a rock?" he asked, "I have a lot more. For example.... 'Hey, Nita, wanna play Santa Claus? You sit on my lap and I'll tell you what I want.' That one got me smacked once."

Nita laughed for the first time.

"So, you do know how to laugh." he said.

"Wait—" Nita, not in the mood to be teased by a near-complete stranger. How do you know my name?"

"Well, you are in my French and English classes." said this still nameless stranger, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing.

Beautiful hazel eyes? Nita get a hold of yourself! she scolded herself.

"I don't know your name." Nita pointed out, not bothering to add what she was thinking, I wonder if anyone else in those classes knows my name?

He gasped with a look of mock horror. "You don't know who I am?" He was unable to keep up the look as he laughed again. "I'm Louis." He extended a hand. Nita shook it.

"So," asked Louis, "How about Friday night?"