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    â€œGreg est allé à Tahiti,” Madame began to say, but before she could finish, a giant sneeze overtook her bony frame. She screwed up her face, gesturing at Lili with her white handkerchief, then hurried out of the room in a flurry of minisneezes.
    Lili sighed. If Greg was already surfing his brains out, it was unlikely that he would return to class. Unless his parents were plotting to ski at Val d’Isère over Christmas, his days of French conversation were probably over.
    The door swung open again, and Lili heaved another long sigh: She’d hoped Madame would take longer to blow her nose, dab at her watering eyes, and recover her Gallic composure. However, she registered quickly that it wasn’t Madame. It was a boy. A slim boy in faded corduroys and a worn flannel shirt, shouldering a scuffed backpack and holding on to a dented skateboard. A boy with fair hair, dark eyes, and an appealingly sleepy grin. Lili’s heart started flip-flopping around.
    â€œHey,” he said, dropping into the chair next to Lili. “Is this the French conversation class?” His voice was low and scratchy-sounding, as if he’d just woken up.
    She nodded, suddenly unable to speak. She glanced shyly up at him from behind her textbook.
    â€œMax Costa,” he said coolly, holding out his hand.
    â€œAshley Li,” squeaked Lili, trying to stay calm. She cleared her throat and shook his hand, her skin tingling at the contact. “Everyone calls me Lili.”
    â€œGotcha.”
    She beamed at him. Max was definitely of the scruffy-hottie variety and looked a bit like a bad boy. The kind her mom always warned her away from, which piqued Lili’s interest even more. She was tired of listening to her mom.
    â€œYou’re taking French?” she asked.
    â€œ Oui , unfortunately,” Max replied. “I flunked it last semester, so my parents are on my butt to raise my grade. I’d have been here weeks earlier, but I had to bow out of soccer first.” Big sigh. “It’s not too bad. I still get to play lacrosse.”
    Lili learned that Max was in seventh grade at Reed Prep, the coed private school across town that was known for its “alternative” policies—kids were clumped into “progress groups” instead of grades, teachers were called by their first names, and students could wear whatever they wanted because there was no dress code. Miss Gamble’s girls weren’t supposed to date Reed Prep boys out of loyalty to their brother school Gregory Hall, but Lili could see herself making an exception for him. He was capital-C cute.
    â€œYou go to Miss Gamble’s?” he asked, noting the uniform.
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œDidn’t someone almost die at the dance the other week?”
    Ugh. It was so annoying how Ashley’s near demise was such big news that even kids who didn’t go to their school had heard of it.
    â€œYeah, but she’s completely fine now.” Lili wanted to get the conversation away from Ashley and back onto herself. The others were going to freak when they found out she was taking a private class with a totally crushable boy every Monday. What was she thinking? She j’adored French!
    â€œThat’s good.” Max nodded. He smiled at her and looked as if he was going to say something more, but didn’t. The silence made Lili feel a tad uncomfortable, and she rested her chin on her hand and began twirling her fountain pen on her fingers to calm her nerves.
    When her phone began ringing suddenly, she startled and fumbled with the pen, smudging ink all over her cheek.
    â€œOops!” She turned red as she wiped her face with the palm of her hand and tried to answer her phone at the same time. Max was going to think she was the biggest klutz! So much for coming across as cool.
    â€œWhat is it?” she snapped into her phone. It was Lauren. “Slow down! You’re talking so