MA PASSION.
Dear readers,
This is my first time posting in a long time. I may be a bit stale, so PLEASE don't hesitate to leave a review. I will also be posting the stories on my tumblr.
Another note: A large portion of the dialogue is in FRENCH. I have included translations in [brackets] for those of you who either don't know French, or are too lazy to use a translator (They are the literal translation, so they aren't always that great...you get broken English.) The reason for this story is because I was really bored in French one day, and I didn't want the sub to yell at me for not doing anything.
Please, review!
xo,
Brandy
{Part Un}
"Bonjour classe! Nous ai novelle éstudiante!" [Hello, class! We have a new student!] Madame Rousseau smiled as she stepped into the classroom. A tall, beautiful girl with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes followed close behind, nervously tucking a strand of her curled tresses behind her ear. Madame Rousseau smiled and faced the young woman. "Comment t'appelles tu?" [What is your name?] The girl smiled back and began speaking. "Je m'appelle Allison Argent...et toi?" [My name is Allison Argent. And yours?] Madame Rousseau beamed and extended her hand in approval of her new pupil. "Ah, trés bien. Je m'appelle Madame Rousseau. Tu es française?" [Ah, very good. My name is Madame Rousseau. Are you French?] Allison carefully shook Madame's outstretched hand. "Oui. Je suis française et américaine." [Yes, I am French and American.] Incredibly pleased by Allison's fluency, Madame gave her a gentle pat on the back. "Go take a seat...anywhere you'd like."
Allison smiled and tucked another strand behind her ear. "Merci, Madame." [Thank you, Madame.] The brunette spent a few moments at the front of the room, scanning the sea of students for an available desk. Without hesitation, she made her way down the nearest aisle. Apparently, French was popular at Beacon Hills High; her father had to pull some strings to get her into the class, but the best he could do was French I. Allison was supposed to be in French IV, but she'd rather be stuck in the beginner's class than not have the language at all.
Because of all the moving, languages seemed like the only "stable" classes. Freshman year, she'd tried Spanish in an attempt to fit in with everyone else, but it'd been a total flop. Allison couldn't roll her R's like that. Whenever she tried, she just sounded like some third-grade class clown making fun of the fire alarm. She was so bad, she switched into French mid-semester. After only one day with the language, Allison was absolutely smitten. The way the words all seemed to flow so mellifluously, the way each sound was so harmonious was almost too much. Of course, it was still the perfect balance. Harmony and discord; total opposites. You'd think they would be an even worse combination than toothpaste and juice. Somehow, it all blended and Allison couldn't resist. French had become her passion, her muse.
Allison quickly took a seat behind a dark-haired, brown-eyed boy. She blushed a little, smiling as she walked past him. Madame Rousseau uncapped a red expo marker and began writing on the board. "Leçon quatre," she recited. "Lesson four," she stated once more, in English. The blank, confused stares of a large portion of the class soon faded to brief understanding as they began getting out their books. "Mademoiselle Argent?" [Miss Argent?] Allison looked up from the doodles she'd been making on her notebook. "Oui, Madame?" [Yes, Madame?] Madame Rousseau smiled and walked over, handing her a textbook. "Ouvrez le livres!" [Open your books!] Madame exclaimed, making her way back to the white board at the front of the room. "Leçon quatre, allons-y!" [Lesson four, let's go!] Allison smiled and turned to the page and began reading. Salut! Ça va? [Hi! How are you?], it read. 'This is going to be trop facile.' [This is going to be too easy.] she thought, smiling as she copied the notes.
How was it? Was it trés magnifique? [magnificent] Was it trés mal? [really bad]
Critique! [Review!]
Part Deux, coming soon.