Fareeha attacked language learning with fervor. With charts, flash cards, and daily practice, she'd surely be fluent in French in no time. But after three months, she was more confused than ever. Fareeha was supposed to be chatting with ease, but she was just floundering about.

One day, she lost an hour to confusion after misreading "fright" as "freight" and had enough. Fareeha brought her notes to a s'mores night with her friend Fabian. They'd feed the fire now.

Fareeha charred a marshmallow black over the blazing papers, grinning at the flames.

Then Fabian turned to her. "How's French going?"