From Sneers to Cheers: Anthea’s Ascent (Anthea )

“Do you speak French?” Baldie queried with a skeptical arch of his brow. “And, do you speak it well?”

“Yep.” Anthea nodded, and her gaze was steady.

Baldie’s eyes twinkled with mockery as he continued, “Honesty is a cherished tradition/

Luxphinia, and I hope we can keep that tradition alive.”

If she couldn’t speak it, no big deal. No one would laugh at her.

Girls like Anthea, so full of pretense, were doomed to stay that way for life.

Anthea was bewildered. What was Baldie implying? Was he suggesting she was lying?

She suspected Baldie was fabricating things out of thin air, and she had the evidence.

“Baldie!” Harriet’s voice echoed from inside.

“Coming!” Baldie strode back into the house.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your distance from her? Why can’t you remember!” Harriet’s tone was far from pleased.

“We were just saying hi, Mom. You’re reading too much into it!”

Harriet sighed.

It wasn’t that she was overthinking things.

Anthea was too attractive, and Harriet feared Baldie couldn’t control his young, restless heart.

Harriet spoke with gravity. “Baldie, I’m an open–minded parent and understand kids your age are sensitive. I’m not against you socializing, but remember the old saying that you’re known by the company you keep. Associate with someone like Starr from your class, not Anthea. Have I ever said a word each time you walk home with Starr after school?”

Starr was the epitome of a rich kid.

Luxury cars dropped her off and picked her up from school.

Occasionally, Starr chose to walk home with Baldie on a whim.

e city.

Starr was the rich girl from the

What was Anthea in comparison?

“Got it,” Baldie nodded.

Just then, Lauren ran over, panting. “Harriet! Harriet!”

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked.

Lauren explained, “Some French came to the C section, and I can’t speak French. What do I

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do?”

The rotisserie was well–located.

Foreigners often came to eat, usually managing with some local language, but occasionally, they encountered those who didn’t speak the local language at all.

Then, Lauren noticed Baldie beside Harriet and lit up. “Baldie, you’re good at French, right?”

Hearing that, Harriet grinned. “That’s right! Our Baldie’s excellent in French. He’d be perfect for the job!”

Baldie blushed a bit. “Well, I could give it a try.” It’s indeed a chance to practice his spoken French.

With the confidence of an eleventh–grader and stellar grades, Baldie thought he could handle a routine conversation with the foreigners without trouble.

Yet as he approached the table of seven foreigners, including four men and three women, he felt a slight sweat on his brow.

A bit of nerves kicked in him.

After all, it was his first time engaging in a face–to–face conversation in pure French with foreigners. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Lauren whispered to Harriet. “That’s the difference education makes compared to illiterates like us.

Pride shimmered in Harriet’s eyes. “That’s why they say education is the only way out. But it also depends on the person. Not just anyone could do this. In the end, it’s because our Baldie is clever.”

Lauren nodded. “True enough.”

Relieved to finally converse with someone, one of the French women at the table smiled and said, “Could you tell us what kind of meat this is? Also, some of us are allergic to garlic and fish, so please let the kitchen know. Oh, and do you have lobster? We’d like a lobster, half steamed in Luxphinian style and the other half as sashimi, please.”