Foreign Feelings

Evarah's P.O.V.
I stood slightly behind Pierre as he was introduced to his new French class, along with all the other 6 French students.

I hadn't really noticed them before, but I took the time to now, as I waited impatiently.

There were 3 girls and 3 boys, all around Pierre's age.

One of the girls had long blonde hair and darkly outlined blue eyes. She was wearing several-inch, knee-high stiletto boots and a short, high-waisted floral skirt. Her name was Marie.

The second girl had thick black glasses over brown eyes and straight brown hair. She was quite pretty under the acne on her cheeks. She wore more simpler clothing than Marie. Her name was Laure.

The last girl was short, shorter than me, which is really small. She had blonde hair cut into a bob, with a full fringe, purple braces, and lots of curves. Her eyes were green, and she wore a short summer dress with thongs. Her name was Anne.

I sighed, bored, and leaned back against the classroom wall, looking over the guys and trying to remember their names.

The first was also short, and had wildly curvy blonde hair. His blue eyes held a hint of purple and a lot of mischief. They were partly obscured by glasses. I thought his name was Henri. He caught me looking at him and winked. I blushed before moving to the next boy.

This guy was of an average height, with smoothed-back, shoulder-length black hair and crystal-like blue eyes. He was wearing a loose leather jacket over jeans and black boots. His name was Louis.

The last of the guys was one of the most striking I'd ever seen. If anyone was to come close to Pierre's . . . good-looking-ness, then this would be the person.

He was really tall, even more so than Pierre. He wore simple clothing, but bright red shoes. His eyes were a light hazel-brown, and his hair was dark auburn. It fell dishevelled around his ears and into his eyes. But his facial structure was his most striking feature about him though, full of clean-cut, sharp angles.

His name was Jean-Pierre.

Ironic, right?



“Bonjour, Eva,” came a warm voice from behind my left ear. I turned away from the worksheet I was working on with several kids and looked behind me.

“Ah, hey . . ?” It was the curly-haired French guy. I knew his name, but I wasn't entirely sure about it. I didn't want to get it wrong, so I just waited.

“Henri.”

“Henri,” I repeated, smiling politely. “How are you finding Australia?”

“It is very . . . beautiful here.”

“Yes, it is, isn't it?” I turned in my seat as the conversation grew deeper.

“You are a very lucky lady to live in such an amazing place.”

“I'm lucky? You're the one who lives in France. I've heard it's very beautiful there.”

“You've never been?”

“Well, no. I've not been out of Australia.”

“Rubbish,” he scoffed. “I thought everyone should have travelled by the time they are your age.”

“I have travelled. Just not out of the Australian borders. I've been to Perth, Adelaide, Hobart, Darwin . . . Pretty much all over Australia.”

“I suppose you have travelled more than me, then. Why is it you travel so often?”

“My dad . . . it's in his line of work. So he just took me and my sister's with him.”

“Oh. What of your mother?”

“She, uh . . . she died when I was little.”

“I am . . . very sorry to hear that Eva. It must have been hard for you.” He quirked a smile. “It must still be hard for you, especially telling a very weird stranger about it.”

I smiled warmly. “I guess it's just that you're easy to talk to, Henri.”

A throat was cleared loudly, and I looked over to see Pierre with a smirk on his face. “Am I interrupting something?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Of course not, Pear.” Then I turned to Henri. “Henri, this is Pierre. Don't let his jerk-ish ways get to you.”

Henri laughed. “Actually, Eva, I already know Pierre. He and I went to school together back in France, and we are attending the same university. And yes, I agree. Sometimes he can be very jerk-ish.”

I felt blood light my cheeks as I looked between the two of them. “Ah, well, don't I feel stupid now?”

“No need,” Pierre mumbled, taking the seat beside me. “Nice to see you again, Henri.”

“Same here, Pierre, although it has only been a few days.”

“Very true.”

And then we just seemed to fall into an awkward silence.

“Eva?”

I turned. “Yes, Maddy?”

The small girl with pale brown hair had been watching our exchange with wide, green eyes. Now her face was alight with embarrassment. She pointed at the worksheet in front of her. “Can you help me with this? Or, can you get someone to help me with it?” Her eyes flicked over to where Pierre was sitting, once again chatting in his easy manner.

“Sure thing.” I tapped Pierre's shoulder. “Mind helping Maddy with her time? I don't know anything about French.”

Pierre's dark blue eyes took in the girl, seeming happy with what he saw.

I narrowed me eyes fractionally upon realising that he thought she was pretty.

But seriously, where had that come from? I didn't have the right to be jealous if he thought another girl was pretty. It's not like I cared, anyway.

Besides, she was, what? 14?

I looked back at Henri to distract myself, and he smiled and me, raising his eyebrows. I shrugged.



“Evarah Lee Harper!”

I sighed and dropped my bag just inside the door to my room. “What?” I yelled.

“Come here!”

“Where are you?”

“My room!”

I followed my sister's voice into her room, where I found her in her computer chair. Her laptop was open on the table.

Emilie looked up at me and smiled, motioning for me to join her. She scooted over on the chair and pointed at the screen. My eyes widened when I saw what was on there.

“Jaimey!”

The connection was a bit blurry and static-y, but I could see and hear her well enough. My older sister laughed joyfully and waved at me from the computer screen. “Hey there, Eva. Long time no see.”

“You think?” I said, my mouth lifting in a smile. “It's felt like years. I've missed you so much!”

She laughed. “Me too, believe me. How are you guys going?”

“Good,” I said. “But who cares about us? You're the one who's in France! How is it over there?”

“It's absolutely fantastic! Everything is so beautiful. Guys, I can't wait until you decide to come over some time.”

“So you're liking it?”

“Liking it? Baby, I'm loving it!” She chuckled before calming herself. “Anyway, so, tell me about this guy who's staying with you. Is he nice? Hot? Charming?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed before realising what had just jumped out of my mouth. I couldn't help the brilliant blush that lit up my whole face. “Well, I mean, he's nice, sure.”

Emilie sighed. “His name is Pierre, and yes, he is hot. I haven't really spoken to him because he's always with Eva.” She looked at me and smirked. “Can't you tell?”

“Emilie, stop being mean to our baby girl,” Jaimey chastised. “And Eva, I know how nice some French people can be, so don't be embarrassed with your enthusiasm.”

“Right. So what is Pierre's family like?” I asked to change the subject.

“They're so cool! His parents are really nice, and so are his sisters. Though Adele is a bit upfront, I guess. Just like you, Eva! But Myrla's really sweet.”

“That's good. I'm glad you're having fun.”

“Yeah, it's been so much fun, and I still have ages to go! On the weekend, they're taking me to Paris! How awesome is that?” Jaimey was gushing by now, and it was almost impossible to get her to stop. “We're going to all the best shopping places, and then having dinner in this really, super-duper fancy restaurant. Oh, God,” she sighed dreamily. “It's going to be amazing.”

Emilie and I both laughed at this, and then we heard a knock at Jaimey's door.