She studies me silently for a few moments, her frown deepening as her eyes travel around my face. I think that she’ll protest, insist that she’ll look into it further. Instead, she nods her head.

“Okay, well. If anything else happens, you come straight to me, okay?”

I nod, though I don’t mean it. And I think something like relief flashes in her eyes as she turns away to walk back to the staff room.

Priti catches my eye as soon as Ms. Montgomery disappears from sight. There’s a frown plastered on her face, but she just shakes her head and sets off toward her locker. I’m not sure if she’s disappointed, or it’s something else.

I sigh and head toward my first class of the day: French. I slip into my usual seat toward the back of the room. Both Jess and Chaewon take Spanish, so I’m on my own during French, which is a shame because it’s probably the most communicative subject I’m taking. Especially this year, when it seems that all we do is practice for our orals.

“Bonjour!” Ms. Kelly walks into the classroom, past the row of desks where I’m sitting to the top of the class.

“Bonjour,” everyone says back with as much enthusiasm as, well, students forced to come into school at eight-thirty in the morning.

Ms. Kelly’s eyes scan the classroom. I slink back in my seat, hoping that whatever she’s searching for, she doesn’t find it in me. Her eyes don’t rest on me. Instead, they flick to the top of the class where Chyna is sitting next to Flávia. They’re whispering to each other—quiet as anything. I’m surprised Ms. Kelly noticed.

But she has. Maybe because this has become Chyna and Flávia’s daily routine in this class. Usually she doesn’t mind, but she doesn’t seem to be in the best of moods today.

“Flávia,” Ms. Kelly says in her stern I’m-not-taking-any-bullshit voice. It’s the voice that makes everyone behave immediately, no matter what. Because Ms. Kelly is not one to put on that voice willy-nilly.

“Yes, Ms. Kelly?” Flávia asks. She’s all wide-eyed innocence. I narrow my eyes at her, even though she can’t see me. I hope she can feel my glare burning through her.

“Parlez français en cours de français,” Ms. Kelly says with raised eyebrows.

Flávia smiles sweetly. “Bien sûr.”

But it seems Ms. Kelly knows as soon as she turns her back, Flávia and Chyna are going to go back to speaking English again.

She heaves a sigh and says, “I want you to take your things and sit beside Nishat for the rest of the class.”