Don't you know I'm human;

[Audrey Vandergraaf]

Oh, oh, oh, baby - don't you know I'm human
I have thoughts like any other one
Sometimes I find myself, Lord, regretting
Some foolish thing, some little simple thing I've done

Audrey winced as the chilly morning breeze whipped at her loose blonde hair. The grounds were quiet. It was early on a Monday morning and the majority of the studious girl’s peers were tucked away in their cozy dormitories. Audrey wasn’t immune to fatigue, but her desire for routine exercise outweighed her need for restful sleep. Thus, she pressed onward, ignoring the dew and stray blades of grass begging to collect at the modest heels of her rubbery rain boots.

Audrey hummed softly to herself, listening to the gritty reverberating noise of the Animals performing live from her iPhone. She didn’t appreciate the top forty music of the past decade, and if there was something to be snobbish about, Audrey was armed and ready. As far as she was concerned, the unabashed theatricality of modern pop had replaced the mechanical skill previously required to create authentic sound. She had no issues with pop as a genre—she could bop along to Elvis Costello all day long—it was the abuse of synthesizers and canned beat tracks that got under her skin.

After nodding along mindlessly to a few more songs, Audrey had finally reached the dank alley just behind the cafeteria; in this spot she felt removed enough from the occupied areas of campus to light a cigarette. She would be extremely embarrassed if she were caught puffing away in front of a faculty member—Not only was smoking banned on campus, but it was also a nasty and base habit.

Carefully, Audrey fished into her canvas tote bag and retrieved a cigarette from its stiff packaging. She propped it between her plush lips effortlessly, and pulled out her petite Zippo lighter. Under ordinary circumstance, Audrey would simply light a match as she pressed on. However, because of the unyielding winds, that simply wasn’t possible.

“Get it together…” she whispered angrily, striking her lighter mercilessly as she held it to the very tip of her cigarette. Thankfully she avoided setting her hair on fire; during her freshman year, there was an unfortunate accident that was provoked through combining impatience and fire… Needless to say, Audrey was not a fan of cropped haircuts…

Sucking greedily at the end of her cigarette, Audrey’s nerves were instantaneously calmed at the nicotine rushed through her veins. She tugged tightly at her scarf, reaffirming its snugness as she exhaled a plume of curling grey smoke. “Finally…” she sighed, now leaning against the building’s rough brick facade. She laid her bag down on the crackled pavement and took a seat beside it, stretching out her long taut limbs and taking another hearty drag. “Now, to get some work done in silence with the help of delicious cafeteria coffee…”

As she threw her head back and invited the early sunlight to beat against her pale skin, the young woman finished up her cigarette. She allowed her last inhale to rush from her nostrils and then buried the remains into the abandoned remains of a neighboring pizza box. Afterward, the fragile blonde began to fuss, tucking stray pieces of loose hair behind her ears and furiously wiping her hands to remove any remnants of the alley’s filth.

Once the girl had reached a satisfying level of cleanliness, she picked up her purse and approached the door, extending a palm to its metallic exterior and pushing it open. The welcoming bell rang. Casually, Audrey strolled toward the front, placing her student ID on the counter with a smile. The cafeteria worker nodded, muttering a sleepy “Good morning” before she proceeded to prepare the sixteen year old her usual order; French roast, black. As the ballerina waited, she subconsciously moved her feet into third position, swaying slightly as she tapped her beige nails against the Formica counter. Fortunately, she was the only student present at such an ungodly time, so the cafeteria would remain quiet for the next couple of hours.

[Genevieve Duval]

She hated the cold. She hated it back in France and she hated it here. She shuddered, snuggling closer to the huge scarf she'd messily wrapped around her neck and over her head. "Are you alright Vivian?" She wondered as she felt her little bee friend on her cheek, covered by the thick fabric. And she hadn't been able to sleep either. It had been just so cold and so annoying to keep trying to snuggle under the covers and keep Vivian safe. And then keep her feet from slipping out and getting cold all over again. Far too much trouble. Plus it was a lonely time of the year. Her friends usually hid during this time, leaving only her little loyal friend to keep her company. But at least now that she was up she could finally get some breakfast! She was always getting up far too late for that, always hurrying to get to class, but today she could get it and everyone would be gone.

Genevieve hummed to herself happily as she entered the Cafeteria, looking up and down at the building. It seemed larger when it was empty. There was just another girl and the staff and she smiled sheepishly, feeling shy that there was some other student there. She looked her age, sort of, and was incredibly pretty, like what seemed every single girl in the school. So those Hollywood movies didn't lie, Americans truly all looked like stars. Lowering her gaze she walked up to the lunch lady, offering her a shy smile.

"Bonjour." She said before shaking her head. English! "Good mourning." Wrong word but she didn't notice. "May I have..." She looked up and down, thinking of what she would want. Wait. There was something very American that she wanted, the one thing that made it worth coming here. "Ah." The lunch lady sent her an annoyed look. She was busy. Genevieve looked down at her feet sheepishly, waiting her turn. She hadn't noticed that the other girl had ordered first. "Sorry."

Her gaze went from the floor to the other girl, staring at her curiously. Wow, she seemed... long. How was that even possible? And she was so thin too, but not in the way Genevieve was. The French girl knew she was a tad too thin and not in the healthy fit way. She'd usually forget to eat because she would spend her time staring at the air, getting lost inside her head. But this girl was fit... and pretty. Genevieve let out a sigh. Nothing in this place was fair. Even Alanna had been far too pretty to belong to this school. And Colton had been... She blinked as she noticed she'd been staring far too long at the other girl as she thought about these things, so now the pretty girl probably thought of her creepy.

"Hello." She said awkwardly, not wanting to leave things that weird. She tried to smile, "I am Genevieve..." She looked about the place, thinking of something to say. She liked people! She really did! It was just that she wasn't good with them. "So... um... it's early." Wow, give her an award for conversation starter of the year! She almost winced at her own words. Hey, don't judge her! It was far too early to think straight!

[Audrey Vandergraaf]

As she waited for the coffee to brew, Audrey unraveled the scarf from around her neck, revealing a small feminine pendant in the shape of a skull hanging in the hollow midpoint of her clavicle. She had a few minutes to kill as she gingerly wrapped the delicate cashmere accessory around the leather handle of her bag. The morning had been moving according to schedule until an undue interruption; a slim mousy girl wandered up to the counter, her hair dark and long, her eyes wide and youthful.

Audrey watched the intruder out of the corner of her eye, purposefully subtle with her assessments. She was fresh-faced but unkempt, as if she had just rolled out of bed. She was the kind of girl that was naturally pretty, but could be beautiful given the proper beauty regimen. Hm. Audrey continued to watch as she fumbled with words, not bothering to let the girl know that the cafeteria worker was already occupied with the order she had just put in; there was nothing like a good helping of schadenfreude to start the day off right.

Still, she felt a tinge of guilt, as the girl was clearly new to the country and spoke English as a second language, adding an extra layer of difficulty to practicing social norms. If it wasn’t for her French background, she might’ve maintained indifference, but Audrey held a soft spot for those sharing her European heritage. She spent time visiting her maternal family in Tours on an annual basis, and was even named for her mother’s family name, Lémieux. Audrey adored attending the ballets performances at Le Vinci; it was always the highlight of her winter break.

She noticed the girl taking her in and basked in the moment, a casual toss of her long blonde hair; as a performer, she could generally tell the distinction between a dirty look and admiration… especially when it was this obvious. This girl was so sweet and naïve, even her voice was small and lacked the arrogance commonly associated with French culture. Audrey had to resist the urge to toy with the cute little thing, and decided instead to offer a gesture of a kindness.

“Oui, bonjour à vous aussi.” She responded in the girl’s native tongue, her French rusty but manageable. She wasn’t fluent, but she maintained a reasonable grip on the language and knew how to at least relay social niceties. “I’m Audrey.” She continued confidently, extending a cool firm handshake. “I’m assuming you’re new here, but I’ll let you on a little secret—“ she leaned in to the girl’s ear, the mixture of her crisp scented floral perfume and stale cigarette smoke hanging in the space between them, “the French toast is… how do you say… dégueulasse.”

[Genevieve Duval]

Genevieve turned with a wide smile to the girl. "Vous parlé Francais!" She said in excitement, for a second forgetting her shyness. "I haven't met many who speak the language. I mean I did meet Colton but it does not really count because that is his power, although he is still really smart so it does count but, do you have the same power? Because if you do I did not mean to rest importance to you ability, it is just surprising considering there are not many countries in America that speak the language. But many do take it as a second language, right? Kind of like we do English but-" She'd been ranting in French, speaking a tad too fast too, so she blushed as she realised what she was doing and looked down in shame. "I am talking too much again."

Audrey was her name. Genevieve sent her a small sheepish smile, nodding at her in recognition and afraid of speaking out of place again. The girl extended a hand out and the French girl blinked in surprise at the formality before returning the handshake with a weak one of her own. She giggled nervously at Audrey's joke and turned to the counter, curious if the lunch lady had understood that. Maybe she hadn't, considering it was spoken in French.

"Do not worry." She said with a sheepish smile, "I will not try out their idea of French cuisine. When in Rome..." Had that been mean? Genevieve wasn't sure. The lunch lady placed some coffee on the counter and Genevieve smiled sheepishly at her when she was thrown an annoyed look. Woah, this woman was so not a morning person. "You have waffles?" What else did you eat in America for breakfast that weren't waffles after all?

[Audrey Vandergraaf]

Audrey nodded at the girl’s exclamation, flaxen hair bouncing along with the gentle movements of her head and neck, a blonde sheath now falling over the sleeves of her sweater. However, the girl began to speak quickly, and Audrey’s eyes widened as she attempted to follow her words; her French was decent, but she wasn’t capable of keeping pace with the natural speed of a native speaker.

“No, I’m not an omnilinguist…” she began, pausing for a moment so that she could be sure she understood Genevieve’s words as they were intended, “My mother is French—from Tours—and I visit my family there every winter.” She smiled before adding false humility, “Although I have taken my fair share of French courses.”

In reality, Audrey was rather prideful of her French heritage, and she could swap politics regarding the French Socialist Party or keep up with best of them in discussions of Jean-Luc Godard.

The girl was talking a bit much, but the dancer bit back the urge to make commentary, offering politeness instead of her usual disregard, “Oh, don’t worry about it; it must be exciting to use your native tongue.”

She was amused by the foreign girl’s use of English idioms, and grinned as she pulled her steaming coffee from the counter, grabbing a plastic lid from a dispenser to her left. “I’m going to take a seat over there,” with her hands full, she gestured with her chin toward a table only ten feet away, “Feel free to sit with me once your food has been prepared.”

Audrey was feeling oddly friendly this morning, but she felt a kinship for this Genevieve girl and her odd mannerisms. Hopefully she would make decent dining company.

[Genevieve Duval]

"Oh." Genevieve said in surprise. So the girl was half French. Well, that shouldn't surprise her as much, considering how she looked. The French girl smiled at the girl awkwardly, feeling jealous of her poise. Plus there was an air to her, like superiority, as if she was allowed to look down at everyone around her, Genevieve included. She nodded though, as she added the courses part. So that was part of it. Still, even for it being her second language she'd managed to understand Genevieve's outburst, which was rather surprising and pleasing. The girl spoke better French than she admitted. It made the French girl jealous again, what with her broken English being such a burden to her.

She smiled gently, nodding at her. "It is. I have not been able to speak properly since I got here." English was very difficult after all, and very different from French.

Now she was getting invited to join the girl for breakfast and Genevieve could only nod in response. Well, wasn't that something? The French girl smiled to herself as she waited for her breakfast to be prepared. At last, for the first time since she got here, she wouldn't be eating her breakfast alone. Mind, she hadn't had many breakfasts, what with the whole oversleeping thing, but those few times she'd managed she had to sit alone. She gave an awkward smile to the grumpy lady behind the counter, shifting her weight from one feet to the other impatiently. Maybe this girl was a friend in the making even if she seemed a tad... Genevieve managed to throw a glance over her shoulder at her, curious as to how she truly was. Maybe it was a just first impression thing, since Genevieve usually saw the best in others, but this girl was so pretty and so slim, it was obvious those things were important to her. The French girl looked down at her feet. Why would that kind of girl even talk back to her?

"Oh! Sorry." Her breakfast was ready, and from the look the lady was sending her, it'd been for some time. She paid up and took her meal, making sure to almost drown the waffles in honey, grabbing some milk and hurrying to the other girl's side. What was her name again? With a gulp, Genevieve realised she'd forgotten it already. Imbécile!

"Hi..." She said awkwardly as she sat across the table from the girl and poked her waffles. "Do you want some?" She asked the girl, nodding at her waffles, which were now basically floating in honey. "It is really good!" Although for some reason she figured she wouldn't want to. She grabbed a big bite of the waffles and ate it happily, actually closing her eyes to enjoy the sweet flavour of honey. Really good indeed. She blinked her eyes open and looked at the girl awkwardly. "So..." She said, unsure of how to handle the conversation with someone who looked so... above everything else. But then she couldn't help herself and blurted out what was bothering her. "Please, excuse me! i forgot your name already. I have very bad memory and I-" She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling it tight and closed and grabbed her milk to take a big gulp. "I am really sorry." She should've repeated it at some point, just to make sure she didn't forget. Now she was going to hate her, wasn't she?

[Audrey Vandergraaf]

Audrey nodded politely at the French girl before making her way toward the nearest dining table, a hot coffee in one hand and her tote bag in the other. She wasn’t seated very far from the cafeteria queue and she half-listened as the girl ordered a breakfast that was laden with carbohydrates and fats. The ballerina was bitter, she always harbored envy toward people who could just eat what they please without gaining a pound; how could anyone eat that much honey and stay thin? It both baffled and irritated her, her pale gaze fixed on her lonely steaming beverage.

She sipped slowly, enjoying as the heat of the liquid as traveled down her throat, the bitter coffee making friends with the protein smoothie she had already consumed in the privacy in her dorm room. Audrey was not a fan of eating in public. Period. She busied herself with her phone, reviewing the day’s hectic schedule before Genevieve returned; it was an infinite series of class, ballet practice, and a much-dreaded doctor’s appointment.

She was relieved of her organizational duties as the pretty brunette returned, her tray of food looking too heavy for her slender arms to carry. Audrey had to stifle a laugh at the offer; unless Genevieve had the keys to a Jaguar hidden in her coat, that fork was going nowhere near her. Still, she appreciated the girl’s politeness, “I’m fine, but thank you…”

She observed quietly as the small girl took so much pleasure in her breakfast, eating it up with the joy of a child, an unapologetic indulgence that made Audrey feel… sad? She brushed it away; she couldn’t handle any introspective crises before her morning coffee.

Taking another sip of her coffee, Audrey raised an eyebrow at the girl’s blunt confession. Normally, she would take this moment as an excuse to be insulting, but she actually appreciated the girl’s honesty. Something about Genevieve was so refreshing.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s early—Audrey Vandergraaf.” She repeated, polite and direct, “There’s no reason to be so nervous.” She offered a small smile, “Being new here is intimidating…” Audrey was well versed in the rhythmic dance of small talk, her speech moving in time to the proper suggestions, “Do you like it here? How are your classes?”

[Genevieve Duval]

Genevieve placed her fork down and licked her thumb, fully enjoying the sweet gooey flavour of the leftover honey. She was making a mess, what with the waffles getting soggy from all that honey, but she didn't mind much. "But it is good!" She replied as the girl refused to eat. Sure, for anyone else it wouldn't look that appetising, but Genevieve fully enjoyed it. "It is one of the good things about America." She turned to grin at the girl, "Breakfast!" Although she had to admit, there was nothing like French desserts. Ah, you had to lose some to gain some, right? She pulled down on her scarf to eat better, and her little Vivian climbed up her cheek all the way to her forehead, but she was ignored.

"Audrey!" Exclaimed Genevieve with wide eyes and a smile, "Yes! Audrey! Audrey... Audrey." She was probably being a tad loud, but she wanted to remember her name and this was just how she did that, repeat the name until it was stuck in her head. She didn't even bother with her last name, since it was so difficult as it was."Oui, oui! Merci!" She sent her another bright smile, glad that the girl wasn't mad, before turning to her breakfast again and eating it with pleasure. But then the girl asked questions. Oh right! She should probably do that, right? Talk.

"Ah!" Genevieve gulped down her pancakes and grinned as Vivian moved down her other cheek. "Yes! I do. Americans are- ah, how do you say?" How did you say? She wasn't sure what they were, but she liked it. "Honest! Yes. And not in a- ah- a bad way? Just... they are kind. Kinder." She poked her pancakes as she smiled down at them sadly, "People in Kocher were not very... nice. But here, people talk and they approach others. I have made friends." Then she turned to the girl and smiled gently, "Like you Audrey." Wasn't Genevieve easy? Well, it wasn't like the French girl didn't have her taste when it came to people. It was just that once she was past nervousness, she could befriend anyone, and anything truly. The little bee crawling up and down her face was a good example of that.

"Do you have many friends?" She wondered, leaning over the table. "You- ah, belong in clubs?"

[Audrey Vandergraaf]

Audrey understood the European custom of offering a gift or meal multiple times before accepting rejection; “It’s a cultural thing, don’t react…” she reminded herself, attempting to quell the irritation of being offered food twice. Whenever someone wouldn’t take “no” for an answer in relationship to meals, it aggravated the dancer to no end, reminding her of an infinite series of awkward dining experiences.

However, she didn’t need to change the subject as a non sequitur arrived on cue in the form of a bee crawling across the girl’s smooth complexion. Genevieve continued to speak, but Audrey was too distracted by the intruding insect, the combination of fear and disgust settling into her expression. She had done so well behaving herself this morning, but seriously, why the fuck was there a bee crawling up her goddamned face?

“Smile, don’t react…” She coached herself, robotically nodding along in time to the girl’s speech as she reintegrated herself into the conversation. Oh god, that thing wouldn’t stop moving. Why? Why? Why?

“Yes, very honest…” she managed, hiding her disapproval of insects with another hearty gulp of coffee, her willpower extending to its furthest reach. “I guess, uhm, I’m friendly enough.”

As the girl leaned toward her with the bug continuing to make it’s way up and around her skin, Audrey lurched back, attempting not be awkward as she stammered, “Yes, I have friends…. I dance ballet…” She couldn’t take it anymore, this bug was too fucking close, “I don’t mean to be rude but,” she gulped, “why is there a bee on your face?”

[Genevieve Duval]

Friendly enough? Genevieve shook her head. "Non! You are very nice. I thought-" She looked down at her meal shyly, poking the mess she'd made for a second, as she figured how to say it. "I thought you were not that- I mean... you- ah, have a look." She looked up at the girl in panic as she realised what it must had sound like. "Not bad look! Just look. You are- ah, pretty, yes? And seem like you- you care for-" She waved at her, meaning her appearance. "You are pretty and I thought- well, you look like a girl from Kocher." She looked down at her breakfast and poked it again. She was digging her grace, wasn't she? "It is no bad thing. Girls in Kocher, they are very pretty and- ah, they usually- They do not speak to me." Rather, they pushed her down or teased her. And this girl had that look, what with her... coffee drinking and her pretty clothes and way too pretty face. She could easily be a model. "But you speak. You are nice. And pretty. It is good."

Ballet! "I like ballet!" Exclaimed Genevieve, "Well, watching show, yes? But not- Not good at dancing. Have- how you say? Two left feet." She giggle at the use of the expression, pleased at the fact that she'd used it correctly. But then she noticed Audrey's nervousness and Genevieve blinked.

"Bee? Oh!" She smiled gently, lightly patting the bee on her cheek. "This is Vivian. She is my friend." Genevieve turned her smile to the girl in front of her, "You want to hold her?"