on thin ice [karen/frank - marvel]

genesis [hs novella]

(In the beginning God created Heaven and Earth/For what it's worth, I think that he might've created you first)

He'd never been into a dark room, let alone in the photography attired area of the school. He knew that's where she'd be situated, every time he'd seen her in the hallways, that's where she was headed. He wondered if all the times he'd laid eyes on her, she'd known. If she stole glances of him across the cafeteria like he did when he spotted her wave of crimson hair dart from around a corner. As he strode through the doors into the art sector, these were the thoughts that occupied him.

On the wall to his right, were photographs of all the sporting teams. Soccer, star quarterback Tommy Jankis throwing a ball midfield in the shot. Cheerleading, infamous Tara Lerner stood on a bridge of smaller girls, taking her one claim to fame as the photograph was taken. Almost picture perfect. And then below, ice hockey. It was himself, raised above the ice by his team mates, holding a trophy with a bloody nose. A small smile etched itself across his face. Taken by Karen Page.

The left wall occupied art and photography, scenic sketches plastered over the wall in a multitude of medias, photographs of pretty much anything, ranging from a skyline to a pile of spoons. It was too deep for him to understand, which is why he stuck to the sporty side of things. The girls passing by him as they left their class muttered about him, stared at him, looked away flustered as he smiled at them. It was probably the shock of him having ventured into that area of the school, more than anything; what's he doing here? And I've never seen him anywhere near the arts. Does he even like them?

She was curled over a computer in the corner of the room, her hair in a messy bun as she typed away, the odd clicks now and then, a pencil amidst the curls of hair. Other than herself, the room was empty. He hauled his kit over his shoulder before walking over toward her. Blowing a breath out quickly, he gathered his nerves in one. She stood from the chair, turning toward him before he could even tap her shoulder. Eyes widening, she dropped a few tiny looking bottles.

"It's you" she said quickly, flustered, confused, embarrassed. Suddenly it was a bad idea. He didn't know where he'd got the confidence from in the first place, the dumb taunting from Ark and Dre in the locker room having been his original purpose.

He bent to the floor, gathering the tiny bottles, grasping them in his hands before returning to his stance. Her eyes were on his hands, clearly desperate to get them back from him. "You dropped these bottles, are they pills or something? Careful you don't take one too many, the number of bottles you have"

She laughed a little, taking them from him. "Thanks for the concern but they're not pills. It's film. Has my latest photos on, I was just on my way to develop them"

A smile crept on his face and he tried his best to disguise it by rolling it into an awkward bite of the lip. It wasn't any better than the original smirk on his face. She probably thought he was an idiot by now. "You're dedicated, it's almost 5PM, what are you still doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you" She replied, her cheeks flooding a similar shade to her hair. She folded her arms to look somewhat menacing, but he could tell that his mere presence sent her into a complete mess. He'd gotten used to having messy conversations with just about anyone because of it. Gabriela and Marco didn't see what all the fuss was about.

"I had practise" He answered, adjusting the strap of his kit on his shoulder. "What's your excuse?"

She shook her head, sighing. "What do you want, Frankie? If you're just here to mock me then-"

"You still owe me a date at Millie's. That's why I'm here"

She paused for an abnormally long time. "You were serious?"