Free Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) by Paula Flumerfelt Page B

don’t look like a girl…” His lip stuck out in a small pout.
     
    Avian cleared her throat. “ I think they look lovely on you. Embrace it. You don’t get a choice.”
     
    Huffing, he dropped into a chair and crossed his arms. He was not wearing the stupid shoes.
     
    Smirking, Avian tapped the table, flicking her eyes between him and the shoes.
     
    “I won’t do it!” He said indignantly.
     
    “We burned your other ones…”
     
    “What?!” He practically shrieked. “Not. Cool.”
     
    Narrie wheeled in a cart of food. “Breakfast.” She handed out the plates: egg whites, bacon, and a pancake for Avian, sausages and waffles for him. The waffles were smothered in a local tangy fruit for him. Narrie had a simple bowl of oatmeal with berries.
     
    The shoe dilemma quickly forgotten, he sniffed at it. “This smells so good.” Reaching for his silverware, he found it conspicuously gone. “Uh…?”
     
    “Shoes first.” Avian said, dangling his silverware just out of his reach.
     
    Mathieu’s eyes flicked between the food and the shoes. Damn it. I won’t wear them. But that food…screw it. Huffing, he took the flats and slid them on. Avian handed over the silverware and he dug into the waffle.
     
    A groan of pleasure at the delicious, melt in your mouth, waffles rose in his throat. It was beyond anything he’d ever tasted. This was the life… The girls giggled at him and his reaction to the food. It amused them how the things they took for granted were so appreciated by him. It didn’t take him long to demolish the food that had been given to him. Drinking down his glass of milk, he sat back, looking at his feet. His feet fit snugly into the narrow shoes, but he wrinkled his nose.
     
    He could see the strategic benefit of wearing girls’ clothes, but he didn’t have to approve of it. Pouting, he crossed his arms over his chest.
     
    Avian yawned and got up. “Let’s go, Mathieu. Time for class.” She grinned sarcastically.
     

 
     
    Chapter
    Four
     
    It took significantly less time than he would have liked for them to get to Avian’s first class. It wasn’t that he didn’t think her schooling was important, he thought world leaders should be well educated; but he had never been to class or school and the thought of being confined to a room listening to things he didn’t understand didn’t appeal to him. When they got there, the Professor was waiting for them as they entered the library that doubled as a study room. He was a tall, overly thin man with skin the color of cool mocha.
     
    “Avian.” His voice was slow and deep, with a twinge of a foreign accent. “Let us begin. Language Origins.”
     
    “Do we have to start with that? It’s so boring.” She looked at him with big eyes, silently pleading as she dropped into her seat. The same two desk from before were there, one presumably for him.
     
    Smiling slightly, the Professor shook his head. “One hour and fifteen minutes of Language Origins is what we shall start with, as we do every morning. Now, tell me what we learned yesterday.” The man instructed.
     
    Settling more comfortably into her seat beside Mathieu, feet on his desk, she looked lazily at her teacher. “There are five countries on this continent, all of whom speak a different language. However, each language has a common origin. It can be seen throughout the pronunciation, the rhythm of speech and the use of non-enunciated letters.”
     
    The Professor nodded, seeming to have know she would be able to summarize the prior lesion without difficulty. “Correct. Today we are going to learn about the ways that languages evolve from a basic, common language into distinct dialects…”
     
    ~*~
     
    It was nauseating how much Professor knew and how long he could talk between breathes. He must have covered five full lessons in the hour and fifteen minutes designated for Language Origins. He didn’t relent and he didn’t hesitate; fact after fact was given and