Nino stood at the school door. His palms were sweaty. He whispered, "Bonjour." The teacher clapped her hands and the whole class shouted it back. "BONJOUR!" Nino's shoulders dropped. He walked into a bright room smelling of crayons and warm bread.
Inside, the room was full of faces turning toward him. "Bonjour, Nino!" the teacher called. Nino peeked around the edge of the door. He thought he heard his name in French. It sounded different here.
During animal day, a calico cat leaped onto Nino's desk. It purred like a tiny engine. The cat batted at his French flashcards. Nino giggled and traced the whiskers. "Le chat," he said loudly. The teacher wrote the word in green chalk.
At home, Nino practiced colors. "Rouge!" he declared at his red shoes. "Vert!" he pointed at his frog toy. His stuffed bear sat on the pillow and watched. That night, he dreamed in rainbow swirls of words.
On the magical streets of the French town, Nino walked to the bakery. He repeated under his breath, "un croissant, s'il vous plaît." The shop bell jingled. An old woman's grocery bags fell open. Oranges rolled everywhere.
Nino gathered the oranges and rolled them back to the woman. "Merci, petit garçon!" she beamed. She asked, "Tu parles français?" Nino took a breath. "Oui! Un peu!" She grinned. "Bien! Comment ça va?"
They sat together on her flower-bordered step. Nino tried, "Ça va bien, merci!" The woman clapped her hands. She offered him a fresh peach. Nino blushed but smiled wide, holding the warm fruit. The town bell chimed above.
Nino thought about all the words he had learned. School, cats, colors, oranges. They all fit together like puzzle pieces. He could do this. He could speak French.