The happiest Monday morning Ed had ever experienced snuck up on him just after first period English, as he started out the classroom door.

"Wait, Ed!" Audra had called out behind him, as she slipped on her book bag, "I missed you at the laser game Friday."

Ed was visibly shocked. For the shortest moment, he felt as if his entire body was just on the brink of a complete collapse; his palms moistened, his tongue felt thick and dry, and his abdomen wrenched with a happy kind of nervousness. He soon realized that he had to say something. He had been quiet for too long. A half a second, maybe, but in the space of the conversation, such a pause could be suspicious.

"Sorry, what was that?" Great, Ed thought, now it seems like I wasn't paying attention.

Audra lifted one of her pretty hands to her throat.

"Is it not what the term is? The laser game?"

Ed feared he made her self-conscious about her English. That was definitely worse than not paying attention.

"Oh right, I understand you," Ed nodded. "My ear's been kind of congested with the spring allergies. Ear wax build up."

Audra's eyes fell onto the hallway floor.

Great. Ed ran his fingers through his hair. She's expressing some kind of interest in you, and the best you can do is come up a stupid story about earwax to pretend you didn't hear her, he chastised himself. Earwax build up. Allergies. Real sexy, Ed.

"I just said," Audra stood up on her tip-toes and leaned very close to his left ear, "I missed you at the laser game last Friday."

Ed could feel her breath on his neck. On instinct he tilted his head toward hers and lowered his eyelids. Almost immediately after she stepped back down onto her heels, Ed realized how silly he might have looked, and snapped himself awake. Wonderful, he thought, I probably looked like a brain trauma patient. Small wonder I didn't start drooling.

"You heard that?" Audra walked backwards in front of Ed.

"Loud and clear." Ed rubbed his neck. "I'm pretty upset about missing laser tag myself."

"Tag! That was the word, laser tag. I knew that!" Audra laughed. "I suppose it sounds a bit vague, laser game. It's what we call it in France."

"I knew what you meant." Ed said.

"Nonetheless," Audra turned herself around so that she could walk beside Ed, "I understand how you feel about working. My dad owns a café- perhaps the most stereotypical of French occupations- and I very often worked there after school. You work at a café?"

"Not a café, exactly. More like something between a Mexican restaurant and a taco shack." Ed certainly wasn't a marketer. He wasn't even an anti-marketer. Piruz would not be proud of him.

"But you wait tables?"

"Mostly bus them, sweep the floor, man the cash register. And I water the cactuses. Or, er, is it cacti?" Ed glanced at the ceiling and thought about his SAT vocab flashcards. He could speak just fine until one of those irregular, Latinate nouns came up. They were his one greatest weakness. Well, them and Audra.

"There are cacti?" Audra clapped, "wonderful!"

"You like cacti?"

"I have a ton of them back in Arles! My sun room looks like a movie set for a Spaghetti Western!"

"Spaghetti Western?" Ed had visions of meatballs and linguine and gun-slingers in ponchos?

"You don't know?" Audra lifted her eyebrows, "Surely you've heard of Sergio Leone?" Audra's voice rose in excitement. "The Dollar Trilogy?"

Ed blinked.

"The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly?" Audra squinted and shot two finger guns at Ed, "With Clint Eastwood?"

"I've heard of that one, but it's before my time."

"Mine too," Audra agreed, "but not my dad's. They're his very favorite films!"

"Your dad likes cowboy movies?"

"And country music!"

"Country music?" A smile curled on Ed's lips.

"Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson- you should hear his rendition of 'Me and Bobby McGee,'" Audra grinned, "You would think it was ridiculous, with his accent."

"So he's got a thick accent?" Ed tried to imagine what a French rendition of any country song would sound like.

"He doesn't speak English at all. But that does not stop him from singing! He sings Dolly Parton- his absolute favorite- even in the café, in front of our customers!" Audra briefly paused. "Of course he doesn't know what the lyrics mean, but he sings with such feeling."

"So you got your talent from him?" Ed thought about Audra's violin solo at the spring orchestra concert Phil had convinced him to attend that March. Emily would have expected Phil to be there, regardless of whether Ed came, and Phil didn't want to go alone. It wasn't any trouble, though, because Ed got to watch Audra perform. She was incredible.

"My talent?" Audra's seemed confused.

"Your musical talent," Ed mimed a violin solo, "I didn't have an opinion on Mozart before the spring concert, but-"

"Oh," Audra set a hand over her heart, "no, no, my talent on the violin remains unexplained. My dad, though enthusiastic, is almost tone deaf."

Ed fought a nagging desire to scoop Audra up in a bear hug. Down boy, he told himself, don't be creepy.

"Of course, he takes credit for inspiring my interests," Audra chuckled, "I chose the violin lessons because I wanted to accompany him on the fiddle. And I was very eager to learn English to figure out what exactly Dolly Parton was singing."

"So you're a Dolly Parton fan, too?"

"Forget Mozart, 'Jolene' is my absolute favorite thing to play on the violin," Audra's chuckle turned into a gorgeous giggle. "It sounds like Hollywood, and the jukebox, and the Old West. So American and exotic."

Ed loved the idea that someone could find Americana exotic. The world seemed suddenly larger and stranger than he had previously imagined it to be. And all at once, Ed wanted to know everything about Audra's France- the color of the sky there, the shape of the trees, and how other people in other countries escaped the duller, sadder hours of their lives through their headphones or silver, glowing screens.

"Maybe that's also why I like the cactus," Audra continued, "it's so exotically American."

"You could buy a genuine American cactus while you're here," Ed suggested. "There's a Home Depot not too far from my church-"

"But I could not take him home with me through airport security. I believe he would classify as a weapon!"

"Because of its spikes?" Ed reasoned.

"With those I could attack the pilot. They would think I was a terrorist."

"I don't think anybody could mistake you for a terrorist," Ed said. An angel, sure, he thought, but no way a terrorist.

"I may surprise you yet," Audra pretended to stab at Ed. "I might be a crafty terrorist! Under the impressive disguise of a seventeen year old girl!"

Ed struggled to think of something playful to say. Banter. Return the Banter. All he could think of was: 'You're the sort of terrorist the TSA would love to pat down, I bet, if I were a TSA agent.' Lordy. That's terrible. And creepy.

"So crafty," Ed said instead.

"Maybe you should show me the taco shack at which you work, yes?" Audra stopped walking as they neared her classroom door, "and I can water the cacti."

"My boss is kind of an asshole," Ed said. Why did you just say that, you lunkheaded assclown? She wants to spend time with you. One-on-one. ALONE.

"Shouldn't he be happy then that he is getting unpaid labor?"

"He'll probably take it out of my paycheck." What is wrong with you? he asked himself, STOP TALKING.

"Then I shouldn't visit you?" Audra's smile vanished.

"No!" Ed said, a little more emphatically than he had expected, "No, you should definitely visit me. Who cares what Piruz thinks?"

Audra's eyes scanned Ed's face as he spoke. "Really?" her toothy smile reappeared, "When do you next work?"

"Wednesday after school-"

"Superb! We can go there together, yes?"

"Sure thing." The next thing Ed knew, Audra's arms were wrapped around his waist. She's hugging me, he thought, how did this happen? More importantly, why I am wondering how this happened? This is the best thing to have ever happened. Better than the invention of the burrito. Better than tabasco sauce, better than guacamole, better than-

And then it was over.

Ed stood there, dumb. He had no idea what to say.

"I've got class now, Ed," Audra said, as she turned away, "I'll see you at lunch."

"So after school, Wednesday," Ed needed a verbal confirmation. Date and time. Otherwise, how would he know he hadn't actually imagined the request?

Audra looked back at him, "Yes, Wednesday."

"Right, Wednesday," Ed repeated as Audra vanished into the nearby classroom, "It's a date."

It's a date.

Ed punched the air beside him as an act of triumph, in the process nearly elbowing a purple-haired kid he sort of knew from last semester's gym class.

"Watch it, normie."

***