The Essential Elements

Grapes of Wrath

Faith

Many hours of a mostly uneventful day faded away away, sliding Faith and the other students of Merlin into their lunch hour.

Because Faith is typically busy during Daily Lunch time, she chooses, more often than not, to have her lunch in her own computer at the front desk. Her "friends" are of the loosely defined kind— companions close enough to be called friends Without true emotional attachment, and people calling themselves friends in the hopes of becoming . . . something more.

Some days a girl is more than happy being alone and away from people. However, solitude somehow finds a way to elude those who want it. Her vibes seemed to always be unfortunately interrupted.

A moving blip of —what faith could only comprehend as a blue light catches her eye as it slowly enters the room, then picking up pace heading in her direction. She watches it move without lifting her head or moving her eyes. She just follows it along her peripheral vision with her attention. When it stopped in front of her desk where she and her crispy chicken salad sat undisturbed, she's hesitant to lift her eyes to it.

But when she does she's relieved and disappointed at the same time. Relieved to know that she wasn't losing her mind and imagining an E.T., but disappointed to be greeted by a high-ranking "officer" the student council who happens to have . . something for her.

"Is there any reason," the boy's Australian accent purrs, "why the prestigious and beautiful head of the student council chooses to consume her lunch in an empty office rather than with her friends in the cafeteria or the council's room?"

The boys accent, always seemed to bring attention to certain words by adding a slight elegance to them. Some would think him pretentious, which he would probably enjoy.

"Simon," the girl smiles, "the Head comes to eat alone, because the head prefers her alone time away from distractions. People seem to be everywhere though, and solitude? Oh, she's a mysterious and hidden vixen."

She continues to smile, tilting her head ever-so slightly to one side. Simon, clearly not sensing the tone, smiles as well. She would hate to actually admit it, but her smile begins to become real. She doesn't know what it is, maybe it's the accent but, she can't help but be. . . Charmed.

After a brief moment of silence, Simon takes a seat across from Faith, widening the girls eyes, "Have you done something differently with your hair hair?" He asked, his brows pulling together.

"No.  .  . Not particularly. I've done this pin up style before, it's just been a while."

This slightly tedious conversation made Faith a tad more aware of the hairs rolled into an Onyx black bun on her crown separated from the ones hanging loosely in soft curls.

Simon may not be able to pick up on hints or sense the tone, but Faith could definitely see what he's trying to do. She didn't hate it, and even though she did like his brand of attention, she could definitely do without it.

Boys are often something this girl dreads and would try to avoid, in a romantic sense, but they somehow manage to catch her off guard. She supposes that none of them notice that her mind just isn't facing that objective, that or they simply didn't care.

Simon was somehow different from the rest of the boys that relentlessly used ploys and games to pursue her. Obviously, she knew what he wanted, although he hasn't said it out loud. He seemed to want to take the slow route, trying to be a friend first instead of leaping over to the end goal. Honestly, he was growing on her. She would cut off one head and he'd slowly grow another, bearing the same pretty white smile and rosy lips, using the same soft voice.