Caleb Michaels (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greatamazingfeelingsboy) wrote2019-12-04 07:45 pm
greatamazingfeelingsboy) wrote2019-12-04 07:45 pm
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Oh, God. French class. Caleb had been taking Latin in Boston, and Petros High doesn't offer that, so he has to take another language course to get his credits to graduate. His options were Spanish and French, and he'd figured French would be the easier of the two.
He's second guessing his choice now, as he sits in the middle row of seats, listening to the teacher speaking in French and pointing at the board. He's late to the course, but he has some homework to catch up. He just... hasn't done it yet. So he feels totally lost, and he's not the only one.
His leg jiggles under his desk, and he keeps looking between some of the seasick faces before trying to focus on the teacher again. He feels like he's listening to the adults in Charlie Brown specials. Just lots of 'wah wahs' and not a lot of words.
About halfway into the class, the teacher splits them up into groups. Caleb doesn't know that because he suddenly understands French. He knows that because other kids start pairing off with each other. There's a flash of swirly butterflies, and Caleb looks up to see one of the cheerleaders approaching him. He's saved by one of the football players asking her to be his partner, and he swallows a sigh of relief.
He turns to see who else is left, and spots a familiar face that helps his shoulders unclench.
"Rosie?" he calls. "Um, can we—?"
He's second guessing his choice now, as he sits in the middle row of seats, listening to the teacher speaking in French and pointing at the board. He's late to the course, but he has some homework to catch up. He just... hasn't done it yet. So he feels totally lost, and he's not the only one.
His leg jiggles under his desk, and he keeps looking between some of the seasick faces before trying to focus on the teacher again. He feels like he's listening to the adults in Charlie Brown specials. Just lots of 'wah wahs' and not a lot of words.
About halfway into the class, the teacher splits them up into groups. Caleb doesn't know that because he suddenly understands French. He knows that because other kids start pairing off with each other. There's a flash of swirly butterflies, and Caleb looks up to see one of the cheerleaders approaching him. He's saved by one of the football players asking her to be his partner, and he swallows a sigh of relief.
He turns to see who else is left, and spots a familiar face that helps his shoulders unclench.
"Rosie?" he calls. "Um, can we—?"