"He said what?" Thérèse's eyes widened until they looked ready to tumble out of her head.
"I was about to fall," Jacqueline began, still half-embarrassed at the memory. "He caught my arm to steady me and said, 'Careful.'" She mimicked his exact tone low, clipped, unexpectedly firm.
"Wow. So he's not mute after all," Fanny remarked dryly.
Jacqueline nodded, heat creeping up her neck. She felt like an absolute fool. All the nonsense she had babbled in front of him assuming he couldn't speak, couldn't hear. God. He wasn't mute. Which meant he wasn't deaf either. Why did she always manage to humiliate herself in brand-new, creative ways?
"You have no idea how much rubbish I've said to him," she muttered, tugging open her locker and pulling out the books she needed for her next class.
"Fantastic," Thérèse said absentmindedly, inspecting her nails. "So what happened next?"
