Crossing the line

I'll be back

April

Easter vacation dragged on; fifteen days to perfect every single thing she'd ever learnt. Thermodynamics, organic chemistry, geology, maths, maths and maths again. Then back to the three basic components – sugar, protein, lipids – then jumping to calorimetry again. An endless round of revisions, for each subject a slot. All very neatly planned out.

Rain or shine, Frances spent six hours a day working on her classes; the exams were drawing close. In three weeks from now, the past two years would constrict into tests of all sorts, all of them written. If she ranked high enough, oral exams would follow in Paris. Then... freedom ! At last.

For now, she was preparing the last stretch... and God it bored her ! But it was better than to think about HIM. Him, who plagued her dreams so vividly that she never wanted to wake up. Him, to whom she dedicated every single beautiful though. Him, gone for four months, but still burning in her heart.

And now came her favourite moment of the day; when she closed her eyes in the evening and could relieve those memories, imagining she was back in his arms, dancing her doubts away. Swaying against him. Every night, she coaxed her will to dream about him. It happened less and less often, but when it did... God, it was like waking in a brand new world.

This morning, Frances opened her eyes in the dark; the sun wasn't up yet. Her heart was full; she had spent the night in his imaginary arms. The young woman plunged in the recesses of her mind, trying to latch onto the emotion and keep it alive before the unavoidable fading occurred. For the moment, lying in her bed, she could almost feel his arms around her. Mmm, so soft, so warm, so masculine. She huddled in a ball, blissfull, and fell asleep again.

Today would be a good day.

She had no idea that this particular day would change her life forever.

An hour or so later, hot chocolate and cereals discarded, Frances contemplate the great weather with a sigh. Today's schedule consisted of botanic – ugh ! – in the morning, and revisions about Kepler's laws in the afternoon. What a yummy past time. So when her mother called for lunch, she was too eager to share the noon meal with her parents before getting back to frying her brain. And since the sun had decided to taunt her – it was such a perfect day, it reminded her of Mark Knoplfer's Shangri-la song – Frances gathered her physics book and climbed into the cherry tree. Up and up she went to the very last branch; an old friend who had brought her luck in the past. This is where she had worked most of her maths lessons before the Baccalauréat. The results were up to par. Perhaps, this time, she would get lucky once more.

So she was dead to the world for two more hours until her back ached – the cherry tree version of a sofa could be a little uncomfortable – and her mind blurred. What better place to learn about planets and their gravitational field ? She felt so free, up there above the roof of her house, that it was worth every single ache.

— "So you are living in trees"

Frances started; the book fell from her hands and plummeted below. In its wake, the four leaves clover that she used as a bookmark went flying in the wind.

— "Shit !", she exclaimed, launching herself forward to grab the theory of physics.

Too late. The noise of a page tearing reached her ear, followed by a loud thud that indicated the stupid book had reached the ground. Her good luck charm disappeared from view, lost. As if she wouldn't need it anymore. And she, in a precarious equilibrium in between branches, could only gape as she caught a pair of familiar eyes. Her mind screamed in glee, then in fear.

He was here.

Mr Kristiansen, in her parent's garden, standing tall in the glorious afternoon sun, the light creating a halo in his blondish hair. And his eyes, so warm, so full of life, laden with feelings she couldn't name. Hands in his pocket in a pose that was anything but casual.