Chapter 53
Dana frowned. “I thought this course wasn’t in French.”
This time the nasty looks came from both her classmate andher professor. She shrank back in her seat, wishing she could disappear. Strike two,she thought miserably. She should do everyone a favor and drop the class now. It was going to be a long semester.
* * * *
Through the professor taking attendance, Dana learned Bethany’s name. She wrote it on the inside of her notebook and circled it in a heart, then underlined it for emphasis, feeling sixteen and lovesick as she did. Bethany stayed turned away from her throughout the entire class, focused on the teacher, so Dana could stare at those soft curls all she wanted. She imagined plunging her hands into those thick depths, pressing her nose against the cottony waves, breathing in that tangy perfume. It reminded her of summer, for some reason, fresh cut grass and sandy beaches and the ocean surf crashing in the distance. If she buried her nose in Bethany’s hair, would she smell that scent there, too? Or between Bethany’s breasts, between her legs? What would a girl who smelled that good taste like?
Dana had no clue, but she’d give anything to find out.
The professor gave them a ten-minute break midway through the class. Most of the students left the room, heading for the vending machines in the lounge at the end of the hall, but Bethany stayed behind to read over the syllabus. Dana followed her lead, thinking it might be a way to get to know her a little more. Rummaging into her messenger bag, Dana found a pack of gum and took out a stick. As she unwrapped it, she saw Bethany glance over and held out the pack. “Would you like some?”
Bethany smiled, that tight bow loosening around her lips until they spread into a sunny grin. “Sure, thanks.” She took two pieces, but Dana didn’t say anything. Unwrapping both, Bethany popped them into her mouth. “You’re Dana, right? The English major.”
“Yeah. English Lit.” Dana felt her whole body flush. She remembered!
Perfect brows furrowed as Bethany frowned. “There’s a difference?”
“Not really,” Dana admitted. “It’s more like a concentration. You can do English Lit like me, but there’s also Creative Writing. As a major. Then there are the minor programs, like Film and Folklore and Linguistics, stuff like that.”
Bethany laughed, a lovely, tinkling sound that reminded Dana of wind chimes. “I’m almost sorry I asked.”
“Don’t they have concentrations in French?” Dana asked.
Bethany shook her head. “Nope, you learn it all.”
Cautiously, Dana wanted to know, “Then what do you do with it?”
“Teach, if you want. Which I don’t,” Bethany hurried to add. “I’m minoring in Politics so I’m thinking I might do something along those lines, intern at the UN at some point, something like that.”
“Wow.” Dana was impressed. A little intimidated, too, if she were honest. Politics? She wasn’t interested in them herself. Hell, she hadn’t ever even voted before.
Then Bethany shrugged, as if she didn’t know either. “Or maybe not, we’ll see. Maybe I’ll run off to Paris and become a bohemian artist with a sexy French lover. You never know.”
Too bad I’m not French,Dana thought. “Can you draw?”
With another laugh, Bethany waved the question away. “Pssh, no. But I don’t think you really need to know how to be an artistein gay Paree.”
Suddenly Dana wanted a sexy French lover herself, but she didn’t want to run off to Paris to snag one. The girl sitting beside her would do just fine.
* * * *
Though Dana didn’t get Bethany’s number the first day of class, a tentative friendship began. The following week, Bethany gave Dana a wide smile when she walked in. “Hey, youComment allez-vous?”
Dana laughed. “What’s that mean?”
Bethany slid into the same seat as before, next to Dana’s. “It means, how are you?”
“Am I going to have to sign up for a French class if we’re going to become friends?” Dana countered.
“Only if you want to know what I’m saying,” Bethany said. “Don’t you know French is the language of love?”
Are you flirting with me?But Dana didn’t have the guts to ask that
As the semester progressed, Dana found herself paired with Bethany whenever Mme Sarkozi assigned projects that required a partner. The first time it happened, it was purely by chance—the professor merely looked around the room and counted off the students by twos, starting with Dana closest to the door and Bethany sitting beside her. They simply had to push their desks together and compose a few questions from the reading to pose to the rest of the class.