Halo by Alexandra Adornetto Page B

French Revolution. I felt my cheeks flush scarlet for the second time in less than five minutes, and I leaned forward, attempting to conceal them with my hair.
    “Miss Church,” Mr. Collins called out, “would you please read aloud the first passage on page ninety-six titled: À la bibliothèque .”
    I froze. I couldn’t believe I was going to have to announce to everyone that I had brought along the wrong books to the very first class. How incompetent would I seem? I opened my mouth to begin an apology just as Xavier slid his book inconspicuously across the desk toward me.
    I gave him a grateful look and began to read the passage with ease, although I’d never read or spoken the language before. That was just the way it was with us—we only needed to start something before we excelled at it. By the time I was finished, Mr. Collins had come to stand beside our desk. My reading had been fluent—too fluent. I realized that I should have mispronounced a few words or at least stumbled once or twice, but it hadn’t occurred to me to do so. Maybe part of me was trying to show off in front of Xavier Woods to make up for my previous clumsiness.
    “You’re as fluent as a native speaker, Miss Church. Have you lived in France?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Visited perhaps?”
    “Unfortunately, no.”
    I glanced across at Xavier, whose raised eyebrows indicated he was impressed.
    “We must put it down to natural ability then. You might be happier in the advanced class,” Mr. Collins suggested.
    “No!” I said, not wanting to attract any more attention and wishing Mr. Collins would let the matter drop. I vowed to be less perfect next time. “I’ve still got plenty to learn,” I assured him. “Pronunciation is my strong point, but grammatically I’m all over the place.”
    Mr. Collins seemed satisfied with that explanation. “Woods, continue from where Miss Church left off,” he said, then looked down at Xavier and pursed his lips. “Where’s your textbook, Woods?”
    I quickly passed the book back to him, but Xavier made no move to accept it.
    “Sorry, sir, I forgot my books today; had a late one last night. Thanks for sharing, Beth.”
    I wanted to protest but Xavier’s warning look silenced me. Mr. Collins glared at him, scribbled something in his notebook and muttered all the way back to his desk.
    “Not setting much of an example as school captain. See me after class.”
    The lesson over, I waited outside for Xavier to finish with Mr. Collins. I felt I at least owed him a thank-you for saving me from embarrassment.
    When the door opened Xavier strolled out as casually as someone taking a walk on the beach. He looked at me and smiled, pleased that I had waited for him. I was supposed to be meeting Molly at morning break, but the thought floated into my head and straight out again. When he looked at me it was easy to forget to breathe.
    “You’re welcome and it was no big deal,” he said before I could even open my mouth.
    “How did you know what I was going to say?” I asked irritably. “What if I wanted to tell you off for getting yourself into trouble?”
    He looked at me quizzically. “Are you angry?” he asked. There was that half-smirk again, playing around his lips, as if he was deciding whether the situation was amusing enough to warrant a full smile.
    Two girls walked past and looked daggers at me. The taller one waggled her fingers at Xavier.
    “Hey, Xavier,” she said in a syrupy voice.
    “Hi, Lana,” he replied in a friendly but dispassionate tone.
    It seemed obvious to me that he had no interest in talking to her, but Lana didn’t seem to notice.
    “How’d you do on the math test?” she persisted. “I thought it was sooooooo hard. I think I might need a tutor.”
    I couldn’t help but notice the way Xavier looked at her—blankly, like someone might look at the screen of a computer. Lana was chatting away and arching her back so that Xavier could get the full effect of her curvaceous