Though Dana didn’t get Bethany’s number the first day of class, a tentative friendship began. The following week, Bethany gave Dana a wide smile when she walked in. “Hey, you. Comment allez-vous?”
Dana laughed. “What’s that mean?”
Bethany slid into the same seat as before, next to Dana’s. “It means, how are you?”
“Am I going to have to sign up for a French class if we’re going to become friends?” Dana countered.
“Only if you want to know what I’m saying,” Bethany said. “Don’t you know French is the language of love?”
Are you flirting with me? But Dana didn’t have the guts to ask that.
As the semester progressed, Dana found herself paired with Bethany whenever Mme Sarkozi assigned projects that required a partner. The first time it happened, it was purely by chance—the professor merel
