Hannelore peeked inside the deserted classroom hesitantly, uncertain of who or what may be inside. She opened the door just a crack and pressed her face against the opening. As soon as she was sure there wasn't anyone in there, she burst through the door and started searching the classroom for books, lots and lots of books. Managing to find a few French novels, Les Miserables being one of them, a classic, and a textbook or two, she slid them all into her knapsack that hung on her shoulder. After making a mental note to return them in due time, she picked up a French-English dictionary and studied some vocabulary.

She wasn't a huge fan of real work, but when she wanted to study and learn, Hannelore knew how to do so. Who really wants to have someone breathing down their neck, barking at them to write and read and learn and speak? No one, that's who. Smart girl she was, and loved to learn but not in a school-like environment and that was her main issue with education.

Dawn walks into her first day of French class, griping her backpack tightly as she didnt know anyone in the class and was nervous walking down the row f desks trying to get a seat in the back there for she wont be seen by anyone. Once reaching the back she let her backpack down slowly and quietly sat down in the very last desk in the row.

Amelia basically skipped into the classroom. Finally French, a language she understood. She had been to France with her parents back when they were alive, and that was where she had learned Francais. Her Southern accent disappeared when she spoke foreign languages, which was fortunate.

Amelia noticed two other girls in the room and promptly walked over to where they were sitting. "Hi there. Who are you two? I don't believe I've seen you before. I'm Amelia Foster, call me Emmy if you wish, and j'adore Francais. Vous aussi?"

Han looked up in a right panicked state and her eyes darted about the room, seeing there was two new girls in the classroom. She gulped slightly, not expecting company. She didn't think there was a class during this time in this room, but hey, she made mistakes. Her face was frozen in a somewhat shocked look, but she shook her head and relaxed into the chair while her hands loosened on their tight hold of the book. Hannelore smiled softly at the two girls who didn't seemed like they bite and curled the side of her mouth up slightly. "I'm Hannelore and totally not Daria Vermouth. Nice to meet you, Emmy." She looked back over to the other girl and nodded in her direction.

OoC: We can totally pretend that you don't know us. Er, we don't know you. Summer camp never happened. Haha.

"Hi Hannelore. Cool name. Are you good at French? You must be if you're studying that level." Emmy smiled at the other girl and looked at Hannelore, who looked slightly freaked out. Was there a phobia of humans?

Vaughn walked into class, smiling. Since he spoke fluent French, he thought he might come into the French classroom to see who else was good at it. He looked at Hannelore and Amelia in the classroom and walked over, hearing them both speak French with fantastic accents. " Salut filles. Ca va? " He asked, grinning. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt and jeans, with black converse. He looked down at these Converse and admired them and then back at the two girls.

She grinned at the compliment, or at least Hannelore took it that way, and felt her eyes shut smoothly as she spoke with the same smoothness. "Thanks. And I'm alright, I mean, I took it for years and I love it. Are you good at it?" It would be cool to find someone to study French with and bond over it. That'd be nice. French was a great language and she really enjoyed it. No seriously. No joke. Just as she looked up at the door, a handsome boy walked in smiling and sat near them. Hannelore raised an eyebrow almost fliratiously as he asked them how they were. "Oh, ca va bien. Et tu?"

Amelia looked up when she saw a cute guy walk into the room. And he was speaking French. How incredibly hot. "Je suis bien, aussi. Je m'appelle Amelia." It was really cool to be speaking French with two other people, which was something she hadn't done since her parents died. Sometimes they would speak French at the dinner table, just for fun. All that had stopped when Maggie adopted her, though, because Maggie wasn't very good at French.

Amelia realized that she hadn't answered Hannelore's question. "I'm pretty good at French. I went to France for a month when I was twelve, so I had to know it then. It's become a bit rusty since then, though."