A/N: There will be dialogue in Latin in this chapter, but directly next to it in parenthesis and bold lettering will be the translation of what’s being said. Enjoy! Xx

Chapter Song(s):
It's About Time- Young The Giant

Milena
Friday. The weekday thats supposed to make everyone happy was going to make me miserable. I can tell and it’s barely started yet. I looked down at the Latin book that I promised myself to read this morning, but the more I look at the cover the less I can convince myself to be bothered to do it. With one final push, I’d opened the hardcover of the text and snickered to myself when the sticky note of my ‘motherly adjectives’ appeared, still stuck to the inside.

“Milena? Sweetheart it’s seven thirty, hurry down and grab your breakfast or you’ll be late for school.”

I jumped in shock not realizing who the voice that called me was at first, but then settled quickly. My mum started employee hunts for a maid during week three. I find it highly unnecessary but she justified the idea to my father after especially when she used the ‘I could strain the baby’ line. She made her decision earlier this week and today is Rose’s first day.

My periwinkle purple clock ticked louder and louder as the second hand made its way around, almost emphasizing Rose’s point and since I have to walk to school its best that I leave now. I didn’t even realize how late it was getting. It takes me almost a half hour to walk to the stupid prep school in the first place and now everything will have to be rushed.

I had managed to get out of the house and not make any contact with my mum what so ever. She came into my room last night in order to wake me up and apologize for her outburst. I don’t remember much of what she said seeing as how it was three o’clock in the morning, but I do think I remember her saying, ‘when it comes to them you have to learn your place.' Even in the midst of her apology the doubts and skepticisms that I have about her continued to grow. Something about her is off besides the brat growing inside of her and I’m going to find out what it is exactly.
****

As I walked through the slowly melting snow into the building of the aged prep school, I remembered why it was so important that I actually read and finished the chapter assigned last night for my Latin class.

We have a test today.

A verbal one.

I stomped my foot in utter disappointment in myself, before I began to blame my mother. If it weren’t for her putting unnecessary stress on me and depriving me of food and proper rest, my brain would have remembered to remind me of the test before I walked through the doors.

I made my way to the classroom with books in hand to sit in the middle row and as I sat, Harold Styles made his way into the room, sitting directly front and center. He wore a black hooded jumper under his school blazer that once again shielded his side profile and wobbled a pencil back and forth between his fingers, tapping it on his desk.

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound of it is annoying and the more he taps, the more My memory pushes out the little that I read of the chapter last night.

Tap, tap, tap.

How is it that you ask ‘what is your name?’ again?

Tap tap, tap tap, ta- tap tap tap...tap.

“Can you NOT do that, please? Its irritating. You’re irritating.”

To my surprise, the tapping stopped, and his head turned in my direction. There was a solemn look on his face and just as he was about to address me, rudely no doubt, the teacher walked into the room. Harold’s eyes narrowed on me before he turned his attention to the front of the room where it belonged allowing me to have the first, last, and only words this time around.

Milena: 2; Harold Styles: 0

As the professor drawled on I tried to continue to think. I’d read bits and pieces of the chapter before, but barely remembered anything from it.

The class stood as I sat in my seat confused and panicking silently.

“Milena, find a partner.”

I quirked an eyebrow and stood to my feet while Mr. Reikland began turning the desks to face each other. The class only has eleven students in it including myself. As I turned to find a partner and saw that everyone was taken, I was once again the odd one out and segregated from the rest. Mr. Reikland looked at me and smiled, showing his chipped tooth before he spoke.

“Oh, yes odd numbers I forgot. I’ll just have another student test with you when they’re done. You’ll have a partner and won’t have to test with me. I know how nervous that make students and I want all of you to have a fighting chance.”

“Thanks,” I spoke as I sat down at my desk with now another empty desk right in front of it.

Mr. Reikland went down the line of pairs, listening to them exchange what’s supposed to be considered simple conversation for five minutes per pair before giving them their proper marks for word usage and pronunciation as I sat in my desk cursing at myself for not remembering something as small as ‘what is your name?’ However, I didn’t feel as bad when I heard the struggle of the rest of the class as well. I try not to compare myself to others, but in this case it made me feel normal.

I’m doomed just like everyone else. I won’t fail alone.

When it was Harold's turn, he and an awkward looking red haired girl spoke with ease and Mr. Reikland smiled at them both before writing their marks on the paper he carried. If I were a character judge, the last thing that I would have expected Harold Styles to be was smart.

“Milena, are you prepared?” Mr. Reikland asked with his clipboard in hand that held grading sheets on it for each student.

“Yes, of course.”

“Lets get you a partner then. Harold, would you mind? I already have your mark for the test so you won’t be punished or re-graded if you say anything wrong. I just need someone to have a conversation with Milena.”

Harold Styles’ green eyes met Mr. Reikland and his eyebrows raised in curiosity and a sense of innocents before he looked at me, pursing his lips together and then smacking them making a small ‘tick’ sound. Theres no surprise that he doesn’t want to be partnered with me, but I’d rather not have him here either, even if it is only for five minutes. If I had my choice, I would have asked the awkward looking redhead girl in the corner that was his partner. She seems quiet and nice enough to help me out with a five minute test, but then again looks can be deceiving. That was proven to me yesterday afternoon when the beauty of Katilynn Styles’ exterior showed only to be a cover for some kind of grotesque evil that I saw underneath.

Harold stood from his seat and slowly walked over to where I sat with his head down and stupid curly hair bouncing under his hood before sitting at the desk across from me.

“May I also ask that you take off your hood, Harold.” Mr. Reikland asked of him.

As he pulled the hood down his cheeks reddened in embarrassment and the skin around his eye showed to be that of a faded yellow color. His bruise was beginning to heal, but I’m sure it won’t be long before a new fresh one takes its place.

Arsehole.

“Your topic of conversation will be time and weather. Don't forget to start with addressing Harold first. You can start when you’re ready Milena. You have five minutes.”

I glanced at Mr. Reikland and then back to Harold Styles before things slowly started coming back to me.

“Salve. Qui tibi nomen est?” (“Good morning. Who is your name?”)

I spoke with confidence but Harold's face turned sour as if his tongue had been dipped in lemon juice. He was sour, sour and displeased causing my confidence to plummet.

“Quod?” (“What?”) He raised his eyebrows in confusion and turned his head to the side slightly before he mumbled to me.

“I think you said that wrong.”

“Ah, ah, ah. Only Latin Harold and don’t correct her,” Mr. Reikland warned, “continue.”

“Sorry,” he spoke before he answered me, “Mihi nomen est Harold.” (“My name is Harold.”)

‘Quid est tibi nomen?’ is ‘what is your name?’ of course it comes to me now after I get it wrong. I roll my eyes at myself, annoyed knowing that I was going to fail before I continued.

“Quid es…umm… Quid es time?” (What are...umm… what are you afraid of?”)

The look on Harold’s face was that of complete shock before he quickly replaced it and raised a confused eyebrow again while frowning and crossing his arms over his chest. It would be a shame if I said something rude to him in Latin and didn’t even know what it was to bask in the glory of another win on my part. I looked to Mr. Reikland for some kind of confirmation of a right or wrong pronunciation, but at the moment was focused on his clipboard of grades, writing in a huge failing mark in for me I’m sure.

Harold leaned in a bit closer to me in order to whisper, making sure that I would be the only one to hear him as he mumbled again.

“Why would you ask me that? Did you even read the chapter?”

“Of course I did!”

I lied, shouting at him in frustration causing him to smirk and wrap his arms tighter around himself almost as if he were giving himself a hug. I’m sure he doesn’t get many of those in hell where he and his family are from. He’s a smart ass. I can see why he gets his ass kicked now.I can’t begin to fathom why my father thought that he is ‘my kind of person’.

“Milena and Harold, this is the last time I’ll say it, loqui solum in latinum. (speak only in Latin!)
Harold, bit his lip before taking a deep breath with his arms still wrapped tightly around himself and began to answer the ‘what time is it?’ question that I think I asked him a few moments ago.

“Tu ait illa perperam iterum. Tu sunt opinata dico 'quid hora est?' non 'quid es time?' verbo 'tempus' in anglico, significet verbo 'time' lingua latina. Tempus est dimidium praeteritum nouem. Ego sum certus vos defecit per viam. Posthinc tempus pellego in capitul.” (You said it wrong again. You are supposed ask, 'What time is it?' not 'What are you afraid of?’ The word 'time' in English, signifies the word 'fear' in the Latin language. The time is half past nine. I am sure you failed by the way. Next time read the chapter. )

Harold sat back in his seat unimpressed and primped his lips before he looked at the clock and then quickly back at myself and Mr. Reikland with his eye wider than saucer bowls. Mr. Reikland quietly but quickly walked over to his desk grabbing the text book for the course in order to look through the chapter that he assigned. His face proved to be puzzled as he flipped through the pages realizing that whatever Harold said to me was surely not included in the first few chapters of Learn it in Latin Volume One.

The bell rang letting us know that class was over and Harold Styles was the first out the door before Mr. Reikland could address him, picking up all of his books and belongings as he quickly merged into the growing crowd in the hallway outside the classroom door.

The rest of the school day went by uneventfully, probably because I don’t socialize with anyone not to mention that I feel like I have a cartoon of a raining dark cloud over my head. I know I failed that test. But knowing that Harold passed and has the brain capacity to speak fluent Latin makes me feel like the score of harsh blows is even and honestly I’m not one for ties, I’m very competitive.

Milena: 2; Harold: 2
****

As I made my way back home on my usual route, I noticed that this time I was alone. There were no footsteps heard on the other end of the street and there was no Harold Styles to deal with as I walked down STYLES CT. When I passed his house and eerie feeling came over me and the cartoon cloud seemed to grow bigger so I decided it would be best if I picked up my pace and jog the rest of the way home.

When I got in my house I felt winded and piglike and its really sad because the Styles’ house isn’t even three blocks away. I walked past Rose and said a ‘hello’ smiling brightly at her when she handed me a panini.

I like Rose already.

“Rose, is my mum home?” I asked before sitting at the table with her shaking off the itchy ass school blazer.

“No, Mila she had a doctors appointment today. She left about ten minutes ago.”

I nodded my head and smiled again at the use of the shortage of my name that my father calls me as the doorbell rang and since I’m not used to Rose being here quite yet I stood to answer it before she told me to sit down and enjoy my lunch.

I love Rose already.

As I took my first bite of the fancy sandwich, I could hear Rose talking to someone at the door. Being the observant listener that I am, I turned off the television that was playing so that I could hear what was being said.

“Yes, she’s here. I’m sure that she would like it if you gave it to her yourself.”

“No, I–”

“Come in.”

I could hear two sets of footsteps making their way into the kitchen and when I looked up at who was trailing behind Rose, I almost choked on my panini.

Notes

Hi!!!! How are you all? If I had a Rose to make me panini's I wouldn't be as angsty as Milena is. Harry Speaks Latin, what's going on I wonder? (the latin might be a little rough, sorry) What did you all think of this chapter?? I don't have a chapter song this time because my brain won't work so if you see on that fits let me know?? COMMENTS AND VOTES, I need them to survive and what not! Have a happy Friday and I love you all for reading.