Crossing the line

Surprise visit

Frances nibbled at her lip, wishing, for all the world, that Tristan was here to listen to her ramblings. He already had, for hours, and she still wasn't any closer to a decision. It is a decision for yourself, he had told her before leaving for his interview. No one, but you, must make your mind about your future. And if she didn't agree in the first place – how she wanted him to be a part of her life, now! —Frances was starting to see what he meant.

She needed to keep Tristan away from that decision. No matter what, he had assured her he would seek a post in her new city, wherever it was, the next year. And if the idea of separating for a full school year was absolutely appealing, she couldn't let her heart sway that decision. How crazy would it be, to put all that work down because of a romantic whim? What if they ever split up? What if she missed her vocation for the sake of staying, only to resent him later?

Here. Now. Alone in the stifling heat of August, dying of thirst and one breath away from jumping into the river, things were starting to clear.

Option 1. Engineering school. Bad points: Industry. Oil company. Geology. Good points: Good salary, unemployment inexistent. Travels, international colleagues.

Option 2. National School as an independent – her biology catastrophic mark had ensured she couldn't get in as an employee. Bad points: Career in research and teaching doesn't pay. No money forthcoming the first three years. Good points: fundamental geology, cosmology and volcanology, yummy! No industry, not destroying the planet for money. A few travels for the sake of research?

The young woman sat on the floor, eyeing the two dossiers that awaited for her to register. Left, right. Two different lives.

A smile started to creep up her face. Option 2. Definitely option 2. Which meant...

Damn, she needed a drink! Frances stood, sundress flying around her long legs to get to the kitchen. The berberic people always drank scalding tea in the desert, and she could gather why. There was nothing like a nice cup to keep yourself hydrated. A good Sencha would relax her enough to seal that stamp, and tear apart option 1.

Which meant ... she would stay by his side. Geology rather than biology, freedom rather than a contract with the government. Love, rather than a brilliant career.

A full smile bloomed upon her face; she couldn't wait to tell Tristan. The door bell rang before she could put the water to boil. Frances froze midway; who could it be? The postman always came in the morning, and it was now 5 pm. The young woman bit her lip.

It was just her luck; Tristan was due to arrive any minute. For a few seconds, she considered playing dead until the buzz sounded again. What if it was important? A neighbour, perhaps? A parcel he might have ordered?

With a great sigh, the young woman made her way to the entrance, bare feet silent, her long braid secured around her head in a Leia like coiffure; it kept it away from her overheated skin.

How she longed for the coolness of the skating rink! But this city wasn't crazy; it closed from may to September to avoid wasting unnecessary energy. Summers in Lyon could get very stifling. It was a pity, really, because she had to keep away from Tristan at night to avoid combustion. Summer heat wasn't romantic at all.

Frances' features softened; the mention of her beloved teacher always caused happiness to dance in her heart. She pulled the door open with a smile upon her lips, intent on greeting anyone that wanted to reach for her companion with gentleness. The sight that greeted her, though, caused her eyebrows to knit. For on the threshold stood a beautiful woman, short blond hair and incredible blue eyes, whose lips formed a surprised "oh".

— "Yes?" Frances said.

The blond woman blinked, taken aback, then stuttered.

— "I ... uh. I think I didn't ring the proper doorbell. I was looking for Tristan Kristiansen."