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If Isla was being honest, she'd say she had a lot of regrets in the past. But right now—meeting up with her best friend, Amber Davenport, in a public space of potential witnesses—may be the worst one to date.
"You're tutoring Elias Sabatier?" Amber let out.
"Not so loud!" she hissed. "And it's Sabatier."
"Oh, whatever, you know I'm rubbish at French."
It had been a week since Madame's proposition, right before school had started. It was their first year of sixth form, which would be the first of their two-year further education before going to university. So it was safe to say that the atmosphere was crackling with a new kind of tension, with new classes to be taken, final projects to start and everyone being on their best behaviour—or some, worst.
The girls were walking by the lockers, just finishing their last session of the day as the Academy bells echoed filled the mahogany walls. People were rushing in and out, the shower of students making it hard for them to pass through.
"That's the odd part, you know," Isla said absentmindedly. "His last name is French, which means he's got to have some French blood, right? But he still needs a French tutor."
"Well, I have Dutch blood, doesn't mean I can speak Dutch."
"Good point."
It was one of the things Isla loved about their friendship. They could argue without actually having a fight, which happened quite a lot, since she was more reserved and hard-headed than the cheery chatterbox. One would wonder why they were even friends. The difference applied to their physique, too: Amber was short while Isla had a full head over her, and a couple inches more.
Of course, her height wasn't the problem. It was the fact that her bright hair constantly made her feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
Isla checked her watch. "It's time."
"Best be on your way!" When she just sighed, the blonde gawked at her. "How are you not biting your arm off right now? It's Elias bloody Sab—suhh-ba—oh, whatever."
"His French surname doesn't wow me."
"I bet his first name does," Amber quipped. "Elias. Imagine saying that name in bed—"
Isla whacked her head. "Disgusting!"
"Optimistic!" She kissed her cheeks. "Catch you later, Kingsley!"
The girl rolled her eyes, watching Amber melt into the crowd. Even her best friend was completely infatuated with him. It wasn't like she herself was immune—Elias Sabatier was extremely fit, annoyingly so—and a small part of her was excited to see him up close.
