“The only French I know is a kiss. I studied a lot of that foreign tongue in high school.”

“That's a killer accent you have. Sounds exotic.”“Just British, I'm afraid. I only know a trifling of foreign tongues.”He plopped down onto the divan next to her, his multi-colored arm stretched along the back.“Foreign tongues—I like the sound of that.”She thought to the article she'd read in the nail salon. “I've picked up a little French and Italian,and more recently, a bit of Hindi, I believe.”“Really?” he said, leaning close. “Such as?”“Oh, you know, Kama Sutra, and things of that nature.”Suddenly Liam was at her side. “You'll be sitting out front, Emily,” he said through grittedteeth, “right next to the stage.”

“Yeah. I know. How stupid is it to French kiss a vampire and not expect sharp teeth?”

“I want to study a broad. Possibly French.”

“It's a lot like a biology study date,' I told my reflection nonchalantly. 'Only... Without the biology and studying.'Biology study date...”

“I started going over the lines in my head for this French play I’m in at school. I play a rabbit called Janot Lapin, who’s the leader of a group of farm animals. It’s not the most interesting play in the universe, but we only know three verb tenses so far so we didn’t have a lot of choices. There’s this one scene where I’m really hungry because the landowners aren’t feeding us, and I keep saying, “J’ai faim.” In case you don’t know, that means “I’m hungry,” but it really means “I have hunger.” That’s what real French people say. I think it’s neat how French people have hunger, but they aren’t hungry like Americans are. I mean, it’s a lot easier to try not to have something than to try not to be it.”