Spells and Cinders

Chapter 3

I rolled my eyes at the list Celia sent me five minutes ago about what fancy appetizers and drinks she wanted me to buy after school, along with picking up Ruby and Emily's dresses at Kimberly Boutique.

Doing some research on Google, I found out Kimberly Boutique was in West Hartford, Connecticut, four hours and thirty minutes away from Danbury by bus. I felt exhausted thinking about how much time I'd be wasting on silly Spring Formal dresses my cousins were only going to wear once in their whole lives.

"May I use the bathroom again?" Miranda Jennings asked, raising her hand. The blue nail polish she wore was so bright, her nails resembled neon-blue highlighter tips.

In French. Please. "En français. S'il vous plaît," Madame Clément announced in beautifully polished French.

Madame Clément was born and raised right here in the States but she loved the French language, so while getting her Bachelor's degree in French, she also earned her Master's degree in Teaching so one day, she could teach students the language and educate them about French culture.

Miranda sighed and repeated her question, but in French. "Puis-je utiliser la salle de bain, encore une fois?"

Yes, but quickly. "Oui, mais vite," Madame Clément spoke, and Miranda ran out of the classroom.

The main reason why Miranda Jennings always had to use the bathroom multiple times during classes was due to her overactive bladder condition. I asked Miranda about it the first time in freshman year, and I never told anyone about it; she didn't want any rumors to spread about her and her condition. I didn't blame her; kids could be bullies.

Hearing another ding come from my cell phone, I expected the notification to be a new text from Celia, or Ruby and Emily. I raised an eyebrow in confusion at the new text message.

I know the secret you're hiding.
- Unknown.

My heart quickened and I glanced around the room but saw multiple students secretly tapping away on their phones. No telling who sent me the anonymous message.

"Andrea, you know cell phones aren't allowed in class. If I see your phone out again, I'm going to confiscate it," Madame Clément said before I had a chance to delete the mysterious unknown message.

Okay, I understand. "D'accord,  je comprends, Madame Clément." I nodded and slipped my phone into the front pocket of my gray sweatpants.

"Remember on Friday, we're going to have our exam over chapters thirteen through seventeen. Make sure all of you study; that goes for you too, Andrea," Madame Clément called me out, making my cheeks turn scarlet-red with embarrassment. Sometimes, I truly despised being Madame Clément's étudiant préféré, favorite student.

"Have an excellent rest of your day!" Madame Clément announced the minute the bell rang, dismissing us.

I stood up with the rest of my classmates and grabbed my belongings, ready to hightail it to my next class, which was Art History, when Madame Clément called out to me, "Oh, Andrea, can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Um . . . sure. What's up?" I asked, stopping in front of her desk.

"I have a particular student in this class right before lunch, and well, he's . . . failing, and I was hoping that since you're–"

"You were hoping I'd be able to tutor him? Since I'm so excellent at French?" I questioned, tilting my head to the side.

"Would you?" She pleaded, putting her hands together in prayer. "I'd appreciate it."