Ileana cleared her throat nervously. She wished she wore glasses. That would give her something to hide behind. The small room held 25 student desks and one teacher’s. Her initial excitement about her new employment faded quickly when Jeff—her teacher’s assistant—told her there were 20 students in her first class and 23 in her second. Statistically speaking, she expected those numbers to drop to somewhere between 13 to 15 by the semester’s end from drop outs and deaths.

Her discomfort was only heightened by the fact that she was looking at 17 women. She hated women. They were so… wicked to each other. There was just something about them… Of course, the other three were men… she didn’t care for them much either. They were frightening brutes… and the way they were looking at her now…

She shook her head and cleared her throat once more. “Je m’appelle Ileana Petru. Vous pouvez m’appeler Mademoiselle Petru ou Prof. Je viens de Roumanie. J’ai…” She paused for a moment… how old did she tell the TA she was? She grinned. “J’ai beaucoup de l’ans.” The students all chuckled just a bit. She sighed, relieved. “Avez-vous des questions?”

One young girl raised her hand. “Do you know where Professor Parker is?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“So are you just a sub?” one of the boys asked.

“No, I’ll be finishing the semester with you all. Beyond that I’m not sure.”

“So like… you’ve got a doctorate or something, right?” he continued.

“Several.”

Most of the students gasped at that.

“In what?” another girl asked.

She sighed a bit. She’d taken care to memorize that at least. “My bachelors is in Linguistics. I did my first master’s thesis on language and its influence on pre-Roman societies. My second master’s thesis was a comparative analysis of the development of old French, English and Italian, and the church’s influence on all three. I hold doctorates in literature, linguistics, ancient languages and occult studies.”

“You look, like, 17!” one girl stammered.

A pang hit Ileana in the heart. She had been 17 when she died. Not being able to see her reflection often let her forget how young she was to the outside world… and it let her forget who she had been… what she’d lost. “That’s very kind of you.”

One of the other boys spoke up. “So are you married?”

Again the pain hit her. That was the most precious thing she’d lost—the chance to marry a good man… raise a family.

“That’s none of your business, Steve,” a voice to her left interjected. She glanced over to see Jeff standing nearby. “We’re pretty far behind, and we have a lot of work to do, so I think that’s enough questions for Mademoiselle Petru. Yes?”

The students grudgingly agreed, and the rest of class went normally. Yes, the class could definitely describe what they were wearing to a Frenchman. Asking for the time… that was another story. Ileana returned to her new office and sat down, soaking it all in. What had she gotten herself into? A cleared throat interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see Jeff once again, this time standing in her doorway.

“Wanna quit yet?” he smiled.

She smiled back. Overall, he was a rather charming young man. There’d been a time that she would have been interested in him. That was a century ago though. “Not just yet.”

“Sorry they’re so pushy. The guys… well, let’s just say guys in French class use it to get girls.”

“How silly.”

“Huh?”

“French might introduce them, but if they’re buffoons, no amount of poetry will help their cause.”

Jeff chuckled just a little. He obviously wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. “Guess that’s true.”

“Is that why you took French?” she asked plainly. Subtlety was so tiresome sometimes.

He started stammering. “N-no… well… not… it may have started that way, but—”

She giggled a bit. He was definitely cute. “Don’t worry. I learned Sumerian for a man.”

Jeff relaxed, but again, he wasn’t sure what to make of her. Was she serious?

“Did Professor Parker not go over proper titles with the class yet?” she asked.

“Umm… that was the first week.”

She nodded. “I’ll make a quiz then. They’ve obviously forgotten the difference between Mademoiselle and Madame.”

Translations:

Je m’appelle Ileana Petru. My name is Ileana Petru.
Vous pouvez m’appeler Mademoiselle Petru ou Prof. You may call me Miss Petru or Professor.
Je viens de Roumanie. I come from Romania.
J’ai… J’ai beaucoup de l’ans. I am… I am very old.
Avez-vous des questions? Do you have any questions?

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 12th, 2008 at 4:44 pm and is filed under Deleted Scenes, Episode 1.06. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.