Still

Chapter Ten

Marian Mells was a weird name, although it was too bad I couldn't change it. The name Marian was old, and her last name was even derived from anything fantastic at all! But she was Harry's character, and I had no right to change it. Then again, he didn't exactly tell me I could use her anyways, so maybe it would be a good thing for me to change her name...

Writing stories was hard work. I mean, it was incredibly fun to be able to make decisions for these characters- see inside their minds and know what they wanted- and yet I felt like I still didn't really know them at all. Harry did. When he would wake up, he was going to learn about my story somehow, and I was scared he'd be disappointed.

Despite my constant fear that I was failing him, I did think everything was turning out pretty well. This story gave me something to get excited for during the school day. Classes went by faster when I was writing down story ideas, and even the times I'm with Brianna are no longer that bad.

That still didn't mean I wasn't scared of her anymore. She definitely still left me frightened for my life. If I saw her in a room and I had the option to leave, I definitely would.

At least I didn't have to see Brianna until my next-

"Hey, I need some help."

For the first time since French started, I actually looked up from my journal. The voice came from the girl sitting next to me, as she bashfully smiled. Why did I think it was Brianna? Was I really so scared of a person that I thought she had come to finish me off for good? I really needed to get more sleep.

What had she asked for? Oh right, help. But-

"From... me?" I asked, feeling dumb.

The girl pinched her arm, but tried to cover it up with a smile. "Sorry," she said. "It's just that I'm failing this class, and-"

"No, no, I can help! What do you need?"

She shoved a piece of paper onto my side of the table. We were supposed to translate the text on the top half in the space below, but she had nothing on the page. Actually, no, she had her name on it- which seemed to be Lydia Dane- and nothing else. I took out my same copy of the worksheet, and placed it besides hers.

"So-"

"Everything," Lydia interrupted me. "I need help with everything."

A girl who knew what she wanted. It made me crack a smile, and I leaned back in my chair.

"Then help you shall get," I told her. "Let's start with the opening sentence. How much do you think you know?"

Lydia pointed at a word with a fingernail only half-covered in polish. It looked to have been white as some point, although it was cracked now, and not very appealing.

"This one... is 'jumped', right?" Lydia asked, biting her lip.

"Yeah. Anything else?"

Lydia pointed to another word. "This one is 'lady'."

I got Lydia to read as much as she possibly could, which actually ended up being quite a bit of it. Sure, I had to help a lot, but she ended up understanding it as well went along. We finished her worksheet in ten minutes, and Lydia sighed, smiling.

"You're good," Lydia said.

"I'm fluent."

Lydia's bright eyes widened as she straightened up in her seat. She blew a strand of long, auburn hair out of her face.

"You're fluent?" Lydia repeated. "That's.... That's insane! Why? How did you learn it?"

I'd never thought it was strange to know two languages. In fact, I had always thought it was weird that most kids at this school only knew English. Meanwhile, at the place I used to go to, all of the classes were taught entirely in French.