“You’ll be reading the breakfast menu without me before you know it.”Hmm, maybe I don’t want to learn French”

“The only French word I know is oui, which means “yes,” and only recently did I learn it’s spelled o-​u-​i and not w-​e-​e.”

“I slide my hand between our mouths, just in time. His lipsare soft against my palm. I slowly, slowly remove it. “No, Idon’t love Max anymore. But I don’t want to give you thisbroken, empty me. I want you to have me when I’m full,when I can give something back to you. I don’t have much togive right now.”Cricket’s limbs are still, but his chest is pounding hardagainst my own. “But you’ll want me someday? That feelingyou once had for me … that hasn’t left either?”Our hearts beat the same wild rhythm. They’re playing thesame song.“It never left,” I say.”

“Madame Guillotine gets mad at me. Not because I told them to shove it, but because I didn’t say it in French. What is wrong with this school?”

“I know. And I couldn't wait any longer, I have to tell you - "The panic rises, and I grip the French band tighter. "Cricket, please -"But his words pour forth in a torrent. "I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm not the guy I used to be, I've changed -""Cricket -" I look back up, feeling faint.His blue eyes are bright. Sincere. Desperate. "Go out with me tonight. Tomorrow night, every ni -" The words cut off in his throat as he sees something behind me.Cigarettes and spearmint. I want to die."This is Max. My boyfriend. Max, this is Cricket Bell.”

“I close his fingers around the gift. “I threw away yourbottle cap, because it killed me to look at. But I never couldthrow away this. I’ve been waiting to give it to you for twoand a half years.”“I don’t know what to say,” he whispers.“I’m almost full,” I say. “Thank you for waiting for me, too.”

“I tell the annoying classmates to shove it, and Madame Guillotine gets mad at me. Not because I told them to shove it,but because I didn't say it in French. What is wrong with this school?”