Vanessa

Even though I usually enjoyed school, French class had never been my favorite. No matter how hard I tried, my pronunciation remained heavily Americanized, and my accent always fell flat.

"No, Vanessa," Miss White would say with a sigh. "You must give it more oomph. Watch my lips." She pointed to her thin mouth as she carefully formed the phrase Merci Beaucoup.

"Merci Boo coop," I repeated ignoring the few snickers I overheard coming from the back of the room.

"That's wrong," she scolded tapping her lips. "You're giving the P too much emphasis. Try again."

And so that's how I would spend the next forty minutes; on an embarrassing wash and repeat cycle of missing the mark every time. I was now beginning to understand why Matt had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to learning.

I had begun to dread the second period of the day up until that sunny hour when Devin had shown up with his movie star smile and shaggy sun-kissed locks. Which was now why on this gloriously grey morning, I practically skipped down the hall into class.

I couldn't wait to see him again. It had only been a week since he had started at the school, but he was already taking up space in my mind as though he paid a monthly rent to live there. Even though I was always eager to see him again, anticipation was at an especially all-time high today as this would be the unveiling of the new and improved Nessa.

Surprisingly, there were no shaky knees or waves of nausea as I walked through the classroom door. For once in my life, I felt good about the way I looked and was just as confident that I could smoothly navigate any conversation grenades he threw my way.

As I raised my chin and strutted towards my desk, being careful not to roll my ankle from the platform boots I was wearing, I dared to slide a glance over in his direction. My shoulders immediately sagged upon seeing the vacant seat. That's ok I guess, I thought to myself glumly. "There's always tomorrow."

Even though I had saved my best attire for today, I could probably still look just as hot in the fuzzy white sweater and pair of leggings I had carefully hung up in the front of my closet. I was already picturing how I would do my makeup when a movement by the door caught my eye. In sync to the parting of the overcast sky to reveal a golden ray of sunshine, Devin strolled into the room laughing along with a friend that hadn't taken him very long to make.

"Alright, man. I'll catch you at lunch," he said reaching out to give the captain of the wrestling team a fist bump.

He made his way over to the desk beside me, immediately pausing as his gaze locked with mine. Eyes slightly widening, that megawatt smile slowly broke out onto his face. "Hey, Cutie," he beamed clasping my shoulder as he spoke. "Look at you. You woke up today and really chose supermodel, huh?"

I offered up a silent thank you to my Maybelline blush for disguising the instant flush that I knew was covering my cheeks.

Clearing my throat, I leaned over to swipe the baseball cap from atop his head. "And you, got out of bed choosing movie star."

Devin turned in his seat to elbow the girl next to him. She glanced up from her textbook disinterested as he pointed at me. "Always with the quick remarks, this one." The girl gave him a tight-lipped smile before returning to her studies.

I opened my mouth to reply but could barely get out a breath before Miss White clapped her hands. "Vanessa, order a dish in French, s'il vous plait.

Internally rolling my eyes, I faced the teacher. "Pizza au pepperoni, please...um s'il vous plait. ''

Miss White scowled at me. "This isn't America, Vanessa. Say it the way the French would."

"Actually, it is, you half-wit," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that young lady?" She placed her hands on her hips and slowly made her way over to my desk.

Uh-oh. I swallowed hard as she approached. I'm in for it now. How ironic that in the three years I had known the King of Detentions, I had managed to avoid him dragging me down with him but the moment we stopped being friends, was the day I found myself in hot water thanks to my own doing.

I could just imagine the shock on Matt's face when I moseyed on into the cafeteria to serve my punishment. Maybe instead of being the one to corrupt me like I had originally joked he would, perhaps he was the person that had kept me glued together all this time.

Well, it doesn't matter anyways, I thought as Miss White narrowed her beady eyes at me. The New and Improved Nessa stands up for herself. I opened my mouth to repeat what I had said when Devin's voice chimed in from beside me.

"Miss," he suddenly interrupted. "How do you say I'll have snails?" He gave me a quick wink before turning his attention on to the teacher. "You better believe that if I ever go to France, I'm going to try some of those. The way the slime just oozes off them. Tasty." He smacked his lips together loudly as he mimicked a chef's kiss.

Miss White swiveled her head in Devin's direction, and I braced myself for the tongue-lashing he was surely about to receive. He pasted on his million-dollar smile, and then I just about fell out of my chair when she actually cracked the faintest of grins.

"Escargots, Mr. Turner." She threw a look at me as she added, "The T is silent."

I glanced over at Devin to find him staring back. "Thank you," I mouthed pressing my palms together to form prayer hands.

He smirked at me as he grabbed his notebook and tore out a sheet of paper. He scrawled something on it before folding it up and handing it over to me.

"You're welcome. I have an idea on how you can repay me."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? I think you should be doing me a favor instead for having to decode that chicken-scratch handwriting of yours."

Devin grinned and nodded as he read my response. He carefully poised his hand around his pen as he wrote out his next words. He wadded the piece of paper into a ball before flicking it at me.

It bounced off my arm and fell to the floor. Bending over, I scooped the note off the hardwood and unfurled the paper. I'm still waiting to hear that beautiful phone number of yours, it read.

My heartrate sped up as I scribbled my reply. It's indeed lovely but I bet yours would move me to tears.

I crumpled up the message and aimed for his head. He chuckled when it hit him square in the nose. He lowered his head to read my answer. He quickly jotted something down and proceeded to send our makeshift carrier pigeon sailing through the air once more.

"If you can decode my sloppy handwriting, then I should say you have earned the prize at the end of this puzzle. (555) 555-5556. Yours?

Biting my lip, I could scarcely believe what I was reading. All this time, it really had been that easy to get a guy to like me. Who knew?

I glanced over at Devin to make sure he was watching as I tucked the note into my backpack; my eye contact with him unwavering.

His mouth fell open slightly. "Hey," he whispered. "Are you really just going to leave me hanging like that?

My lips curled upward as I took one finger and wiped an imaginary tear away from my eye. "Simply poetic," was all that I said before turning my attention onto the whiteboard.

I couldn't stop the smirk that spread across my face as I sensed his slack-jawed stare fixed on me. Who knew that it would feel so damn liberating to finally have the ball in my court?