34. Who do you keep lookin' at (3)

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1. Curiosity

February arrived in Merseyside with bitter coldness and dreary downpours. The dull afternoon light offered little warmth to the students uncaged from the realm of Quarry Bank High School for the day and the rain in its passing, left the sky with a glum, grey filter. The cold, as fierce as she was, wasn't able to diminish the spirited moods of pupils en route to Monday evening freedom, where homework for many of them would be abandoned for leisure.

Celia and James were amongst the customary bustle of students walking down Harthill road, their grand school building stretching into the distance behind them. James suddenly stopped in his stride upon noticing the swarm of students flocking around the bus stop near the end of the road. A crowd like this was expected on a Friday (everyone liked to venture to town at the end of a studious week), but for a Monday it wasn't typical.

James sighed as he scanned over the crowd. A combination of Quarry Bank and Calderstones by the looks of it. There were at least forty of them. All of which James knew had the same intentions as himself and Celia.

"For God's sake, everyone has the same blimmin' idea as us," James moaned, annoyed at the spanner thrown in the works, and even more so that he hadn't thought of this probable cock-up before now. What he lacked in prospect, he gained in stupidity.

"We might have to wait for the next one,"  James added and then glimpsed at the Rolex on his wrist. "Mind you, Ce, it's probably gonna be another half hour. Shall we just try and squeeze on when it comes?"

James' question hung in the air, neglected by the forlorn girl keeping pace beside him. Celia's round, brown eyes were staring ahead with an introspective glaze over them. She appeared to have withdrawn from her surroundings and instead, retreated into her mind, where, whatever burden she held in there had pulled the corner of her lips into a permanent, disgruntled frown.

Celia had been aloof all afternoon despite her reassurance that she was fine and James didn't want to keep bothering her about it. Instead, he'd ruminated over their morning together to see if he'd done anything to upset her, but James was positive he hadn't. She'd been chuffed when he gave her that congratulatory cream bun from the bakers, just as he knew she'd be. He even managed to flirt with her a bit and he wasn't too full on with it, either. He fed her a few harmless compliments that moulded her face into that sweet, coy expression that he liked, so clearly he wasn't the problem.

Back in school everyone had been raving about some newly refurbished coffee bar in Slater Street and James thought suggesting a trip up there would cheer Celia up, but here she was wearing an expression bleaker than the blasted weather. As much as James cared for the girl, whilst she was in his company, he wished she'd snap out of her brooding. It was staring to put him in a downer of his own.

"Chin-up, champion," James said, gently nudging Celia's arm with his elbow. "You look as though you've lost a shilling and found a sixpence!"

At James' touch, Celia jolted out of her stupor and she looked up at him, her eyes blinking out of their torpid state. 

"Sorry I...I was miles away, wasn't I?"

James nodded. "You took a trip to Australia and back."

Celia apologetically smiled and then glanced down at her feet as they stepped into a puddle.

"Are you feeling alright, Ce?"

"I'm gear," she replied in the same mechanical voice she used earlier when he'd asked the exact same question.

Celia wore her heart on her sleeve most of the time.
She wasn't fine; anyone could see that, but Celia never quite mastered the skill of hiding her emotions which is why James was still staring at her unconvinced with her assertion that she was.

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