Madame Dubois stood at the whiteboard. She was writing verb conjugations.
"Gagner," Madame Dubois said. "To win. Je gagne. Tu gagnes. Il gagne."
Alex sat at his desk. He was conjugating verbs in his head.
I win. You win. He wins.
It had been a good year for winning. The World Cup. The Champions League. The Premier League.
But there was one trophy missing. The individual one. The golden one.
"Monsieur Finch," Madame Dubois said. "Can you use the verb 'to shine' in a sentence?"
Alex looked up.
"The stars shine in the sky," Alex said in perfect French.
"Very poetic," Madame Dubois smiled. "But stars also shine on the red carpet, non?"
Mark raised his hand. He was wearing a tuxedo. A full black tuxedo with a bow tie. In school. At 9 AM.
"Mark," Madame Dubois sighed. "Why are you dressed like a penguin?"
"I am not a penguin!" Mark was outraged. "I am ready for the Gala! Tonight is the night! The Ballon d'Or! Paris! The City of Lights! The City of Cheese!"
