EPIPHANY → chapter three: what will your verse be?
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FROM THE FIRST TIME HE LOOKED AT HER, FRANCES KNEW SHE COULD FALL MADLY IN LOVE WITH HIM. She had followed behind Knox once the bell had rang, monitoring her proximity to him as he led the way out of Mr. Keating's classroom. Her eyes were zeroed in on her feet, taking shorter strides than she initially would so as not to seem like a lost puppy in his wake, hardly wanting to bother her first true friend at Welton Academy — if friends was even what one would call them at all.
Yet, her newfound friend didn't seem to mind in the first place. Knox turned, glancing over his shoulder with raised eyebrows as if to make sure she was indeed behind him. When their eyes met, having sensed the girl's insecurity, he placed a hand carefully on her dainty shoulder, politely urging for her to walk beside him.
The two walked in silence, however not an ounce of discomfort lingered between them. Frances allowed a small smile to break out across her face, thankful enough for finding at least one person in all of Welton Academy that didn't make her feel like a sore thumb.
"Overstreet!"
The sudden interjection cut through their shared silence like a knife, and both the Overstreet boy and Olson girl looked over their shoulders in an attempt to find the culprit.
It was him, the same boy who had made her heart pick up such speed in her chest in the front room. He was darting quickly after them — no, Frances reminded herself, he's after his friend, not you — and she took the opportunity to get a good look at him with a bated breath. His hair was dark and short, the front of it a bit longer and she admired the way it hung lazily over his forehead. He was carrying a mountain of books in his arms, yet moving so quickly down the somewhat crowded hallway he made not dropping them look like an art.
