Second Chances

Chapter 4: Getting John a Date

Do you hear that? That's me. What time is it?

FRANCIS TIME!

That's right! It's another chapter of John and Anastasia's friendship, feat. Francis Kinloch! He's not a dick in my story, I promise!

Warning(s): Google translate French

Much Love, Krissy

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Sophomore Year (Still):

Considering it's a week until February, it's actually not too cold out. The snow on the ground would beg to differ, but John and I don't listen. Instead of staying inside, we're bundled up and taking a walk in our favorite park. I nuzzle my nose further into the scarf that my grandmother in France made for me. John chuckles and nudges my shoulder with his.

"So, Valentine's Day is coming up. You have anyone in mind?" he asks, grinning slyly at me. I giggle and roll my eyes.

"This is where we are in our friendship? Gossiping about the boys we like?" I ask, eyes crinkling slightly to show my smile. He laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Of course we are! You tell me everything and I tell you everything. That includes the boy gossip!" he says. I shake my head fondly and lean against him.

"Well, if you must know. Non, no boys I'm interested in," I respond. He hums and gives me a sideways glance.

"What about you?" I ask, nudging his side with my elbow. He groans.

"Do you even need to ask? All the guys at our school are straight as boards and a majority of them are douchebags," he says. I giggle at that, and he joins me after a moment. There's a short silence before we both get bored of it.
"Wanna race to our favorite spot?" he asks. I give him a challenging look and pull my face out of my scarf to smirk at him.

"Préparez-vous à perdre (Prepare to lose)," I say. He grins at me, and we stop, getting in position.

"On three," he says, "un deux...Trois!" We both take off running, but he's faster than me. I, however, am more agile, and I dodge around people much easier than he does. For a while, it's very close, but he quickly gets further ahead. He looks over his shoulder at me and laughs.

"John, look-" Before I can finish, he collides with another boy, and they both tumble to the ground.

"John!" I cry, catching up to him finally. He and the other boy groan, John lying on top of him. The boy is a lot bigger than John, and I'm shocked he actually had the momentum to knock him over.

"John? Chérie? Are you ok?" I ask, poking his arm. He groans and lifts his head from the other boy's chest. His eyes slowly open, and his cheeks light up in a bright red blush.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" he squeaks. The other boy opens his eyes, and his own carmel cheeks darken. Oh. I smirk slightly.

"Here, let me help you both up," I say, standing up. I offer my hand down to them, and John gratefully takes it. I yank him up, then offer the same hand to the tall boy. He smiles at me, and I smile back.

"Pardon me for asking, but are you French?" he asks me as he's brushing his pants off. I nod.

"Oui. Je suis Anastasia (I'm Anastasia)," I say, keeping my hand out for him to shake. He shakes it and his smile remains warm. He's much taller than John and I. Probably over six feet.

"I'm Francis," he says. There's a short, slightly awkward silence. I kick John in the leg in an attempt to make him speak.

"Ow! Ana!" he whines. I turn and grin at him, and Francis turns his attention on him too. John immediately blushes again.