Every Little Thing

55

By the time I arrive at school for my impending French project, my stomach has tied itself up into knots. I spent most of last night staring into nothingness, trying to distract myself with books and conversation with Georgie, but nothing really helped. It's not that I was necessarily sad, just empty-feeling. Hollow.

Eventually, I fell asleep and woke up to my alarm and the sudden realization that Reed and I would see each other again. I would have to translate whatever the hell he had time to write in a single day.

Every step that brings me closer to Mrs. Manhime's office causes my heart to tighten. By the time I'm opening the door and stepping inside, it feels as if it's clenched in an invisible fist, squeezing harder, harder, harder.

Reed has beat me here, and he glances over at me as I move to take a seat. His smile is tight-lipped and melancholy, and I return one that I hope comes across the same way.

"Are you two ready to start?" Mrs. Manhime asks, cutting into our shared thoughts. I clear my throat and look away with a small nod. Inhaling a shaky breath, Reed pulls a piece of notebook paper from his bag and smooths it over his knee.

I watch in anticipation as he begins to speak French, my mind working hard to translate his words as best as I possibly can.

"Elle est mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune. L'Univers gravite autour d'elle et la connaît par son nom."

My heart sinks as the words slowly begin to sink in. Oh, God. Oh, God, it's about me.

Manhime looks at me expectantly, and I try my hardest to look calm and collected as I say,

"She is my moon, my stars, my sun. The universe revolves around her and they know her by name."

I glance over just in time to see Reed swallow, a flush creeping up his neck and infusing his cheeks. My eyes dart away before the pause is too obvious, and he continues.

"Elle est l'axe d'un monde qui est en perpétuel mouvement, l'unique constante dans celui-ci."

"She—" I begin, but have to force myself to take a deeper breath, "She is the axis of a world that is always moving, the only constant in something that is always changing."

Mrs. Manhime smiles and jots something down on her clipboard. In the second that she's not looking at me, I shut my eyes and squeeze my fists, nails biting into the soft skin of my palms.

Reed's voice is beginning to speed up now, and my mind races to keep up with his words, mentally changing them around in my head so that I'm able to say them out loud. I have to fight every fiber in my being to stop myself from analyzing everything that they entail.

"Elle est tout ce que j'ai et je l'aime mais je suis venu trop tard. Parce que notre amour est damné à tous jamais."

"She is my everything, and I love her, but I am too late. Because our love is forever—forever damned."

Don't you dare cry, I order myself, but I can feel his gaze burning into the back of my neck. I look over for a split second, and the sadness in his face is enough to make me crumble. I swallow hard, shaking my head in lieu of urging him to continue.

And continue he does.

"Parce que notre amour est damné à tous jamais. Une étincelle d'un brasier qui a été soufflée avant qu'elle n'ai pu s'enflammer réelement."

"Our love is forever damned," I repeat, breathing the last sentence with as much strength I can possibly muster. "A flicker of a flame that was blown out before it really had the time to burn."