Le Premier Chapitre

"So I've got good news." My boyfriend Bryce said over the phone. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Tell me." I replied, already knowing what it was probably going to be.

"I've almost got enough. Seriously this time, I did the math, and I'm like, 89-percent of the way there!"

I laughed. "You did math?"

There was a pause and I worried I'd offended him, but he answered with laughter in his tone. "Okay, so I had my brother do it. He's in fifth grade so he's all excited about learning percents so..."

"I was just kidding, Bryce, but you really shouldn't worry about saving up. Plane tickets to France aren't cheap, and I don't even know if I've been accepted yet..."

"Jolie, you ARE going to get accepted. Your photography is amazing, and you really deserve to go to one of the best art academies in the world."

"I don't know if you'd say it's the best in the world, but it is in Paris, so I guess that's not too shabby. But they do have high expectations, and it would have to take some kind of miracle for me to get in." I could hear my mom calling me from the stairs and the squeak of each board in my old, 19th-century home. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be on the phone before 8:00 because of my killer bill last month, but Bryce and my best friend Ashton were exceptions, right? I wasn't so sure. "Bryce, I think I have to go now." I whispered into the phone.

He laughed, his volume quieter as well. "Is your mom coming up?"

"Yes and I promise, it's no false alarm this time. I'll call you back later."

"Alright." He laughed, and then his light tone dissolved from his voice. "I love you."

"Mmm." I replied, and hung up the phone. Bryce said that every time we had to part, in a very sober way, hoping I would get the courage to say it, too. The problem was, I wasn't sure if what I felt for him was love... yet. He had been my only serious boyfriend, so I didn't have much comparison; much way of knowing. Love was silly, and no matter how many songs said it- it wasn't a game. Love can break you from the inside out, in ways unimaginable, and I wouldn't want to fake myself into that just to get hurt worse in the end.

I was only sixteen, he was seventeen, and I hoped he realized that this wouldn't last forever. On top of that, I might be leaving for the whole summer. Yes, leaving it unsaid and not thought about was probably the smartest thing to do. I wasn't ready to love someone, not yet. He knew that, and he respected that. The way everyone else saw it, he was supposed to be the perfect boyfriend, and I felt horrible for not seeing it that way, not even pretending to love him. Of course I cared for him in a way I cared for no one else, of course I'd never want to see him get hurt... but love was deeper than that. At this point, as much as we cared for eachother, it seemed like there was a little something missing- a little extra spark. Love is something stronger- we're both so young, and love is something that would be too hard to get out of, which I know will have to happen sooner or later.

My mom knocked on the door once and let herself in. In her hand she held a small, electronic device- it looked like a cross between a Blackberry and a video game. Grinning, she handed it to me. "This came in the mail for you today." She said. "I ordered it for you online a few weeks ago." Mom was an avid online shopper. Our house was filled with things that arrived in boxes on our front porch, and we got giant bags of coffee every month- an ad told her if we signed up for the coffee club, we'd get a five-hundred dollar Wal-Mart gift card after six months.

It had been eight, and still no card.

I eyed the strange technology sitting in my palm. "Well, try it out." Mom encouraged. I found the power button on top and was welcomed by a plain white screen with a black, blinking line, much like one that appears in a textbox.

"You can change the colors later." She told me. "Just type in a word, and push"-she tapped her finger on a large, silver button in the lower right-hand corner-"this button."

I don't know how you feel when asked to come up with a random word on the spot, but my lack of creativity got the best of me. Looking around my bedroom, I typed the first thing that I saw- chair. Almost instantly, the word "Chaise" popped up on the screen. I don't know a lot about foreign language, but since my grandma came to the states from Europe when my mom was fifteen, and she spoke fluently in romantic tongue, I knew a French word from a Spanish one. I raked my fingers through my wavy, dirty-blonde hair, pushing it out of my face- something I did in place of slapping my hand to my forehead.

My mother had bought me an English-to-French electronic dictionary. I was really getting tired of people making such a big deal out of this whole thing, especially since the academy started in two weeks and I hadn't gotten any notification about being accepted.

"Mom, please." I said, shoving my face into a pillow. "Why did you get me this when, chances are, I won't even need it? When did you say you order this?"

She smiled slyly. "I ordered it about four weeks ago," She answered, "A few days after I got this." She handed me an already-opened envelope from the Foreign Arts summer program.

I inspected it and felt my throat tighten. "You opened my mail?" was all I could choke out.

Mom stuck out her bottom lip. "It says 'To Jolie Thomas and Parents." She defended. I opened it, and read just the first word before screaming.

Congratulations.