Miss Sinir, the young and vivacious French teacher at Parkside High School, was under thirty and a graduate of the prestigious University of Chicago’s Department of Romance Languages and Literatures. Hermand of French grammar was renowned, and her teaching ratings were the envy of the entirenguage department.


    She studied Mirabe, and her usual sharp edge softened somewhat. “Mirabe, there’s no need to be so tense,” she began, her tone more cordial than usual. “I’ve called you to my office to discuss something important with you.”


    Mirabe blinked, quickly defending herself with earnest sincerity. “I’m not nervous, Miss Sinir.”


    Her teacher couldn’t help but chuckle at the response, clearing her throat before continuing. “Well, the thing is, the State Department of Education is organizing a French–speakingpetition. Each high school can nominate five students, and given your ster performance in French, you’re a natural choice to-”


    As soon as Mirabe heard the word petition,‘ she felt the all–too–familiar shiver of dread. She didn’t wait for Miss Sinir to finish, interrupting, “I appreciate that, Miss Sinir. My French may look good on paper, but my spoken skills are a different story.”


    The very thought of anotherpetition so soon after the BrainSpark Nationals debacle was too much for Mirabe. Moreover, without any prize money on the line, her interest was less than zero.


    Miss Sinir was taken aback. “Really? I would’ve thought your spoken French was quite proficient. This morning, Mr. Hammond specifically asked me to put your name forward. But I thought it best to get your opinion first.”


    Mirabe’s lips twitched in frustration–was she being set up by Mr. Hammond again? Taking a deep breath, she managed a tight–lipped smile. “Miss Sinir, there might be some misunderstanding about my speaking abilities. Good grades don’t necessarily trante to good conversational skills. And as a specialist, you must know that these aren’t one and the


    same.”


    Miss Sinir nodded in agreement. “You have a point.”


    “So, let’s give this opportunity to someone else. I’d hate to embarrass Parkside High and give Mr. Hammond a reason to expel me.” Mirabe said with earnest gravity.


    As she approached the office door, she nearly bumped into Mr. Hammond, who was about to step inside. He had overheard the tail end of herment. That was downright impertinent–was he seen as someone who jumped to conclusions without reason?


    Noticing Mr. Hammond at the door, Miss Sinir’s demeanor instantly shifted to one of respect. “Mr. Hammond, hello.”


    With her back to the door, Mirabe quickly straightened up and turned around, greeting him


    with a nod and a confident voice. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hammond.”


    Despite being caught red–handed for the earlier quip, Mirabe showed no sign of difort.


    Mr. Hammond gave Mirabe a long look before stepping into the room. “Why aren’t you interested in thepetition?” <i>He </i>


    missed the earlier part of the conversation between Mirabe and Miss Sinir.


    Scratching her head nonchntly, Mirabe replied, “My spoken French isn’t <b>up </b>to par.”


    “Not even for a schrship of a hundred thousand dors?” Mr. Hammond raised an eyebrow.


    Mirabe was stunned. That was a tempting offer.


    Clearing her throat, she turned back to Miss Sinir, “Actually, I think my speaking skills are pretty decent. Maybe… I should sign up.”


    Miss Sinir was at a loss for words. Mirabe’s story had changed rather quickly.


    “That settles it then,” dered Mr. Hammond, not bothering to look at the stunned French. teacher. His attention was focused on Mirabe. “Come with me to my office.” With that, he turned and walked out.


    Mirabe nodded politely to Miss Sinir and followed behind Mr. Hammond.


    It took a moment for Miss Sinir to collect herself before she finally exhaled deeply. She had never seen such a genial principal, nor had she ever encountered a student who could remain soposed in the face of authority.


    That was impressive!