19.11.25 【英语美文】第一个爱，青涩《七年级》Seventh Grade By Gary Soto

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周一主题：【英语美文】第一个爱，青涩《七年级》Seventh Grade By Gary Soto

了解今日课堂：

Seventh Grade

By Gary Soto

1.　　　On the first day of school, Victor stood in line half an hour to finally be able to list his elective; French. He already spoke Spanish and English, but he thought someday he might travel to France, where it was cool and not so scorching hot like in his hometown.　Besides, Teresa, a girl he had liked since they were in school together, was taking French too. With any luck they would be in the same class. Teresa is going to be my girl this year, he promised himself as he left the gym full of students in their new fall clothes. She was cute. And good in math, too, Victor thought as he walked down the hall to his homeroom.

2.　　　He ran into his friend, Michael Torres, by the water fountain. “How come you’re making a face?” asked Victor. “I ain’t making a face. This is my face.” Michael said his face had changed during the summer. He had read a magazine and noticed that the male models all had the same look on their faces. They would stand, one arm around a beautiful woman, and scowl. They would sit at the pool, their rippled stomachs dark with shadow, and scowl. They would sit at dinner tables, cool drinks in their hands, and scowl, “I think it works,” Michael said. “Belinda Reyes walked by a while ago and looked at me,” he said. Victor didn’t say anything, though he thought his friend looked pretty strange.

3.　　　They talked about recent movies, baseball, their parents, and the horrors of picking grapes in order to buy their fall clothes. “What classes are you taking?” Michael said, scowling. “French. How ‘bout you?” “Spanish. I ain’t so good at it, even if I’m Mexican." “I’m not either, but I’m better at it than math, that’s for sure.”

4.　　　A bell propelled students to their homerooms. The two friends went their ways, Victor thinking, man, that’s weird. Michael thinks making a face makes him handsome. On the way to his homeroom, Victor tried a scowl. He felt foolish, until out of the corner of his eye he saw a girl looking at him.　Umm, he thought, maybe it does work. He scowled with greater conviction, and continued practicing this on the way to his first French class.

5.　　　They were among the last students to arrive in class, so all the good desks in the back had already been taken. Victor was forced to sit near the front, a few desks away from Teresa, while Mr. Bueller wrote French words on the chalkboard. The bell rang, and Mr. Bueller said, “Bonjour.” “Bonjour,” braved a few students. “Bonjour” Victor whispered. He wondered if Teresa heard him. Mr. Bueller said that if the students studied hard, at the end of the year they could go to France and be understood by the populace. One kid raised his hand and asked, “‘What’s ‘populace’?” "The people, the people of France.”

6.　　　Mr. Bueller asked if anyone knew French. Victor raised his hand, wanting to impress Teresa. The teacher beamed and said, “Tres bien. Parlez-vous francais?”　Victor didn’t know what to say. The room grew silent. Victor felt all eyes staring at him. He tried to bluff his way out by making noises that sounded French. “La me vave me con le grandma,” he said uncertainly. Mr. Bueller, wrinkling his face in curiosity, asked him to speak up.

7.　　　Great rosebushes of red bloomed on Victor’s cheeks. A river of nervous sweat ran down his palms. He felt awful. Teresa sat a few desks away, no doubt thinking he was a fool. Without looking at Mr. Bueller, Victor mumbled, ‘Frenchie oh wewe gee in September.” Mr. Bueller understood that the boy didn’t know French and turned away. He walked to the blackboard and pointed to the words on the board with his steel-edged ruler. "Le bateau,” he sang. “Le bateau,” the students repeated. "Le bateau est sur l’eau,” he sang. “Le bateau est sur l’eau.”

8.　　　Victor was too weak from failure to join the class. He stared at the board and wished he had taken Spanish, not French. Better yet, he wished he could start his life over. He had never been so embarrassed. The bell sounded and Victor shot out of the room, avoiding the stares of the other kids, but had to return for his math book. He looked sheepishly at the teacher, who was erasing the board, then widened his eyes in terror at Teresa who stood in front of him. “I didn’t know you knew French,” she said. “That was good.”

9.　　　Mr. Bueller looked at Victor, and Victor looked back. Oh please, don’t say anything, Victor pleaded with his eyes. I’ll wash your car, mow your lawn, walk your dog-- anything! I'll be your best student, and I’ll clean your erasers after school. Mr. Bueller shuffled through the papers on his desk, He smiled and hummed as he sat down to work. He remembered his college years when he dated a girlfriend in borrowed cars. She thought he was rich because each time he picked her up he had a different car. It was fun until he had spent all his money on her and had to write home to his parents because he was broke.

10.　Victor couldn’t stand to look at Teresa. He was sweaty with shame. “Yeah, well, I picked up a few things from movies and books and stuff like that.” They left the class together. Teresa asked him if he would help her with her French.　"Sure, anytime,” Victor said. “I won’t be bothering you, will I?” "Oh no, I like being bothered.” “Bonjour,” Teresa said, leaving him outside her next class.　She smiled and pushed wisps of hair from her face.

11.　"Yeah, right, bonjour,” Victor said. He turned and headed to his class. The rosebuds of shame on his face became bouquets of love. Teresa is a great girl, he thought. And Mr. Bueller is a good guy. He raced to the public library, where he checked out three French textbooks.

He was going to like seventh grade.