7. Lauren
CHAPTER 7
LAUREN
L auren’s phone alarm beeped and began playing a classical melody that was one of her favorites. Since she was already awake, Lauren didn’t hesitate to reach over and shut it off. The warm sunlight spilling through her window had already nudged her into wakefulness a few minutes ago, and Lauren had relished a few extra minutes in bed as she waited for her alarm.
Now, though, she slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth and got ready for the day, she swung between excitement at the day ahead and nerves about what she would have to do.
Lauren had been in Paris for almost two weeks now. And they had been two wonderful weeks. After moving into her new apartment, she had spent her days exploring the city. She returned to her old haunts from her time here almost a decade ago, then branched into new places she’d never seen before. Finally, Lauren was starting to get a feel for the rhythm of her new city, from the public-transit schedule to the ebb and flow of spoken French in cafés and restaurants.
It had been lovely to have a little time to decompress after many years that had felt constantly full-on. However, as time passed, Lauren realized that she needed a little more to her life than exploring. And she needed a distraction from Nico, whom she still hadn’t been able to get out of her mind almost two weeks later. She still thought she saw him around the city sometimes, but it was never really him.
Which was for the best.
Anyway, Lauren knew she needed more. She needed help bringing her French to the next level. She needed friends and companions for her adventures. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a little extra income to supplement her inheritance.
So, she had begun searching for a job. Today, she would be interviewing for an assistant English teacher position at a local college. A little research had shown that the college worked with both university-aged students and members of the community who wanted to improve their English. Lauren would be working with an experienced head teacher who could help guide her into the new world of academia — and she’d even get free French lessons at the college as part of her benefits package.
If she got the job, of course.
Still torn between excitement and nerves, Lauren made her way the six blocks to the college. That would be another benefit of working there — it was a short walk from her apartment through a leafy park and a few quiet residential streets, then along a bustling road. Lauren wouldn’t mind starting her mornings with this commute. It was very different from the twenty-minute drive to the bank she’d made every day back in Nebraska.
She arrived a little early and took a turn around the campus, which was modern but with a classic flair, before going to the room where she’d have her interview. After a few minutes of nervous waiting, a young brunette peeked out from the interview room.
“Lauren Chapman?”
“Right here.” Lauren got to her feet and crossed to the woman for a handshake.
“Nice to meet you.” The woman took her hand and shook it. “I’m Céline Gaumont, the head of the English department. Please, come on in.”
Lauren followed Céline into the conference room and took a seat.
“So, Lauren, I’ve looked over your CV and it seems you haven’t worked as a teacher before.” Céline must have noticed that Lauren looked worried, because she hurried to continue. “That isn’t a problem. I just wondered what brings you to Paris and to teaching.”
“Sure.” Lauren took a deep breath. “Well, I came to Paris because I love the city. There’s just an energy here that’s unbeatable, both a vibrancy and a sense of history.”
“I know what you mean.” Céline nodded eagerly. “Paris is unlike any other city on earth. Although I’m biased, of course, since I’m from here. And what brings you to teaching?”
“I love people,” Lauren began. “My favorite part of all my past jobs has been interacting with and helping other people. At my most recent job, I trained a few new employees, and I found it very rewarding to watch them grow and succeed in their new roles. I know that teaching is very different from helping people with bank transfers, but I also think that approaching it with the goal of working with my students would be helpful. And I love to learn, which I think is an important part of teaching.”
Céline nodded again “I like that. A lot of teachers feel like they have to know everything to be good at their jobs, but I agree with you. I think some of the best teachers approach it as a learning experience for both themselves and their students.”
“I agree. All my favorite teachers have been the ones who treated me like an equal, or at least a valuable member of the conversation.”
“So far, so good.” Céline smiled. “Now I’ll move on to a few more specific questions. How do you feel about classroom management, like getting your students to focus and pay attention?”
For a moment, Lauren wasn’t sure she had an answer. But she took a deep breath and spoke from her heart. “I think students pay attention to things that interest them, and anything can be interesting. By making the topic personal, funny, or in some way engaging, I think you can really inspire interest. For instance, I had a professor in college who would give fun interactive quizzes at the end of class with prizes for the highest scorer, like a piece of chocolate. I know I paid attention in that class. I would hope to do something similar with my students.”
“I think you’d like my teaching style, then.” Céline grinned. “Although it can also be important to be tough with your students if you notice that they’re not giving their best effort over a few lessons.”
“Definitely.”
“Can you tell me a little more about how your work history has prepared you for the role?”
The interview went on for about twenty more minutes, and Lauren felt better and better with each question. She and Céline clicked really well, often building off each other’s ideas until it felt more like a conversation than an interview. By the end of the meeting, Lauren almost felt that she was talking to a friend.
“I have a few other candidates,” Céline said as they finished up. “But honestly, I doubt anyone would be a better fit than you. Despite your inexperience with teaching, I love your enthusiasm and your approach, and I think we would work well together. If you’re interested, I’d like to offer you the position.”
“Wow, really?” Lauren felt her mouth drop open. She hadn’t expected the interview to go this well.
“Really.” Céline chuckled. “Of course, if you need a little time to think about it?—”
“No, I think I can accept now.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have our HR department draw up the paperwork and speak with you about visa requirements. Barring any unforeseen issues, when would you be ready to start?”
“Honestly, anytime.”
“Tomorrow? We’re about to begin a new quarter.”
Lauren laughed. “Actually, sure. I can start tomorrow.”
The women smiled at each other. Lauren felt a new kind of excitement about her Parisian adventure. Yes, the start had been a little rocky, with her Nico misadventure, but things were really looking up. Now, she would be busy with her work and her new apartment. She would finally be able to put Nico out of her mind once and for all.
Wouldn’t she?
Lauren’s first class was bright and early the next morning. She met Céline outside the classroom and they walked in together.
“As I said, don’t worry too much about this first class,” Céline said as they climbed the stairs. “I’ll take the lead. I just need you around to help with a few things and to get to know the students. Over time, I’ll let you take over a few classes on your own when you feel ready, but we’ll start slow.”
“Thanks.” Lauren bit her lip. “Did you used to feel nervous before a class?”
“Oh, terribly. But over time, teaching becomes as easy as breathing.”
“How long have you been a teacher?”
“Almost ten years now, ever since I graduated from college. I got a job here and never looked back. It’s always been a good fit for me.”
It must be nice to be so sure about a career. Lauren had enjoyed parts of her work at the bank, but had found it tedious and uninspiring overall. She could hardly imagine loving her job as much as Céline seemed to, but she was excited about teaching. Maybe her feelings about work could change.
“So, who are we teaching in this first class?”
“It’s an introductory English class for new college students. Most of them have studied English before and can speak it fairly well, but for a lot of them, English is something they don’t enjoy. After many years of learning in the sterile classroom environment, they find it hard to see English as something positive. There are always a few students who know English very well, for instance from YouTube or watching English movies, but they also tend to struggle in the classroom because rote study of grammar and vocabulary feels so unrelated to what they learn on their own.”
“That sounds challenging.”
“It is. But it also makes our job fun. We need to bring English to life for these students. We need to show them how fun and applicable it can be. That’s why it’s also nice to have you, a native speaker. But like I said, don’t worry. This first class is just to get your feet under you.”
“Okay.” Lauren took a deep breath and followed Céline into the classroom. There were between fifteen and twenty young adults, most of whom looked to be a traditional college age. Some were already sitting at their desks, notebooks open, while others stood in small clusters to talk. Céline strode confidently to the front of the room and turned to the assembled students.
“Good morning, everyone.”
A few students called good mornings back, but some of them seemed either not to have noticed or not to care that the professor was in the room. Lauren was surprised, but Céline winked at her, then took out her phone. A moment later, the familiar sound of a popular Imagine Dragons song blared out of the phone’s speakers. Surprised, the students turned as one to the front of the room, where Céline grinned at them and bobbed her head to the song.
In that moment, Lauren understood why Céline was such a good teacher. She was young, perhaps early thirties to Lauren’s late twenties, and her playful grin and song opener were clearly catnip to these kids. Before the end of the song, everyone had taken their seats. Céline let the last notes play, then turned off her phone and swept her gaze over the class.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Céline Gaumont, and this is my colleague, Lauren Chapman. Welcome to English Basics.”
There were a few groans from the class, and Céline raised her eyebrows. “You object to ‘Basic English,’ right? I don’t love the title myself. After all, you guys are college students. You can speak English pretty well, can’t you?”
There were a few nods.
“I thought so. But the problem is, I bet a lot of you don’t like English. Right?”
More nods.
“So, in this course, we’re going to take you back to the basics of English, the parts that make it fun and interesting and useful. I bet none of you minded listening to the song in English just now, even if you feel like you don’t speak or understand English well. But every part of English can be as useful and as important as the English you hear in your favorite songs or shows. Lauren, would you kindly help me by passing out the syllabi?”
Lauren took the stack of papers, happy to have something to do, and began handing them out. As she did, she took in the faces of the students. Some smiled at her while others looked bored.
“This semester, we’ll read some great literature — and before you groan again, I mean that it’ll be great, not boring. We’ll work on writing the kinds of pieces you’ll actually need throughout your life, like emails and articles, and we’ll hold debates and presentations in class about topics that are actually interesting. If you don’t believe me, check out the plan for May fourth. If any of you know Star Wars , you’ll be excited.”
Lauren passed out the last few syllabi and returned to stand by Céline.
“Let’s start today with getting one thing out of the way. Very few people speak English perfectly, even native speakers, so don’t feel shy or worried that you might make a mistake. When I was in my early twenties, I once blanked on the word for ‘fork’ while in a restaurant in London and accidentally shouted a swear word. I’m sure you can guess the one. So, just keep trying and don’t feel discouraged if things don’t feel easy all the time.”
Céline’s words reminded Lauren of what Nico had said about her French. He’d been so encouraging, even when she was worried that she wasn’t pronouncing everything correctly. Now, Lauren had a chance to do the same for these students of English.
“Even I mess up my English sometimes,” Lauren said. Céline gave her an encouraging nod, so she continued. “I once accidentally autocorrected a word in a document at my old job so that instead of saying legal ‘parties,’ it said legal ‘panties.’”
It was a true story and had been a real mess for Lauren in her first week at the bank, but the way the students laughed and sat up a little straighter made it all worth it.
“Once, an Englishman on a phone did not understand me,” a boy at the back of the class spoke up. “I repeated myself a dozen times until I was yelling, ‘refund, refund.’”
“You sound perfectly understandable to me ,” Lauren said. The boy grinned and another student spoke up.
Céline let the class talk about their experiences for a few more minutes, then wrapped the conversation up.
“As I’ve been listening to you talk, I’ve been impressed by the variety of your vocabulary and grammar. I’ve also noticed a few mistakes that a few of you have made. For instance, keep in mind that past continuous would be, ‘I was going,’ not, ‘I was go.’ Let’s have a quick look at some of these mistakes, so that we can all keep them in mind for the rest of the semester.”
When the lesson ended fifty minutes later, Lauren was beyond impressed.
“Are all your classes like this?” she asked Céline as the last students filed out of the room.
“Not all of them. Some of my students are just learning their first few words and phrases in English, so those classes are obviously different. And I teach a few English classes to seniors, which are more serious and focused on academic language and composition.”
“Wow.”
“Don’t worry.” Céline grinned at her. “It’s only a matter of time before you’ll be just as confident. I can see that you’ll be a wonderful professor in no time.”
“Thanks.” Lauren blushed. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you. You really got those kids to pay attention and learn something.”
“So did you. Your story about making mistakes as a native speaker inspired some of them to speak up.” Céline glanced at her watch. “We have about fifteen minutes until our next class, so I’ll give you a quick briefing on the way. Oh, and I spoke with our staff. We’ve slotted you in to an advanced beginner French class at noon. I hope that works for you.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
The rest of the morning flew by. Lauren went with Céline to her next class, which was one of the college’s community offerings and targeted seniors who wanted to improve English or, in a few cases, learn it for the first time. Then they raced to the next class, which was creative writing in English for advanced students and English majors. For the first time in a couple of weeks, Lauren was hardly thinking about Nico at all. This job was exactly what she’d needed. Just before twelve, though, she realized that she was about to miss her French class.
“I think I need to slip out,” she whispered to Céline when the students were having a five-minute writing sprint. Céline glanced at her watch, then nodded.
“Sorry, Lauren, I didn’t keep track of the time. You’d better hurry. The building is on the far side of the campus.”
Lauren grabbed her bag, slipped out of the classroom, and hustled across campus. She didn’t want to be late for her first day of French class. As she hurried, she made up her mind to speak French as confidently as she could. If her English students were brave enough to make a few mistakes, she could be, too. And Nico had told her she was perfectly understandable most of the time.
Lauren found the right classroom at about a quarter after twelve and slipped through the door as quietly as she could. Head down, she followed the wall to a free desk at the back of the classroom and sank into the attached chair. She got out the notebook that she’d been taking notes in during the English classes — she hadn’t thought to buy one for this class — and found a worn pencil. Only then did she raise her head to take in the other students and the professor.
The students were a collection of ages and nationalities, which wasn’t surprising for a French class in Paris. At the sight of the professor, though, Lauren’s mouth almost fell open. There was the familiar dark hair and brown eyes. The firm line of a chiseled jaw. The athletic build. The briefcase on the desk. This professor was no stranger. No, the man who Lauren would be taking classes from for the next semester was none other than the man who had given her a wonderful day and night in Paris, then abandoned her in the morning.
Nico.